Page 53 of The Games We Play
SPARK
Iwatch as she slips out of her leather jacket—one I intend to stick a property patch on as soon as she’ll let me—and smile as she slides the sweater back over her shoulder. It kept sliding off over lunch, and never has a glimpse of skin made my dick so hard.
I keep thinking of the way her nipples looked in the bathtub, the way she sighed my name. Woman has me hard half the time and doesn’t even know it. When I left Whip’s room after chatting with Iris for an hour, I had a steady chub going on, and one of the girls at the club noticed. Offered to drain the tank for me, any way I wanted it.
Refusing was easy, which was a surprise. I’d been loyal to my ex, but after what happened, I vowed I wasn’t going to give a woman that kind of monogamy again. With Iris, I find myself craving it. There’s something special about denying myself that pleasure until it’s with Iris. Steering us to a place where that happens is as big a turn-on as the event itself.
I’ll need to figure out how to get around King’s orders, so we don’t have to hide. Only I don’t have a masterplan yet. One is taking shape, where I prove to him just how extricated from Cillian’s organization she is. Or perhaps I pay a retainer to the club, a financial guarantee against trouble.
I wish it was clearer to me.
As she puts the groceries into the fridge, I get the fire going. It’s getting cool. We don’t really need the heat yet, but we will later. She’s still puttering around in the kitchen, so I go make the bed.
I got in the habit of washing the sheets each time I come up here, before I leave. Something the military taught me was an appreciation for a well-made bed. She doesn’t know this yet, but none of my brothers know about this place. It’s my refuge. My hideout. If shit goes south with club business, I can come up here and hunker down. I got weapons, cash, fake plates for the bike, and fake IDs all hidden around the place.
If big trouble hits, I’ll become a ghost.
I’m in the process of putting the final pillowcase on when Iris walks into the room. The weak fall sunlight warms her skin, and she walks over to the wall where I’d hung some photographs from my tours. “You look cute.”
“Cute?” I throw the pillow on the bed. “Can’t say I’ve ever been called that before.”
She turns to face me, then steps onto the bed I just made. It makes her taller than me and she puts her arms over my shoulders and threads her fingers through my hair. “I think it’s the buzz cut. Makes you more preppy.”
“Better?”
When she shakes her head, I’m relieved. “No. I like you better like this.”
I slide my hands beneath her sweater and white tank. Her skin is warm. Soft. I hold her for a moment, then scoop my hands down to her ass and lift as she wraps her legs around me. “You weigh nothing.”
“Or you are just strong.”
“Probably both.” I spin us so she’s pressed against the wall. I hear the picture frames rattle, and she smiles against my lips.
I’ve never chased a woman before. Not even my ex. Sam had chased me.
I’ve never waited for someone to be ready. They either were and we fucked, or they weren’t and I found someone else.
Sex has rarely had meaning. Just release.
But I know with Iris it’s going to be ... different.
And believe me, my balls are fucking blue trying to give her time to adjust to the idea of us. Her legs were wrapped around me on the bike all morning, when I wanted them wrapped around me like she is now.
The fluffy pink sweater slides off her shoulder, and I bury my face into her neck, kissing the skin that has been teasing me all day.
When her hips roll against my dick, I say a fucking prayer of thanks.
I lay her down on the bed, pop a pillow beneath her brace, and place my hands on either side of her head. “You’re gonna have to ask me so I’m clear, little chick.”
Bright eyes look up at me as a streak of pink slashes her cheeks. My little chick’s always fucking embarrassed to tell me what she wants from me. “Tyler John Hyatt, please, will you make love to me?”
I run my thumb along her neck. “It will be my fucking pleasure.”
It takes me a minute to remove our clothes, but as I stand there naked, with her eyes on me, I want to slow down time. I want to take in every minute of this. Her eyes drop to my cock, so I palm it.
Iris bites down on her lip. “You’re huge. I mean, everywhere. You’re just ...” There’s apprehension on the lines of her forehead.
“Thank you. And we’ll fit. I promise.”
