Page 50 of Devoured
“I’ve got an offer in New York City,” I said, thinking of David Mills’s nightclub. “Might have to go soon.”
“New York City?” Iris furrowed her brows. “That’s on the other side of the country.”
“Exactly.”
“Not until we’re done with the bet, right?” she asked.
I reached in my pocket and fingered that tab again. I should have taken it once I knew she was on the property. Should have been paying attention to my phone.
“I need your help,” she said.
Those words were too close to ‘I need you.’
But not close enough.
Iris needing me to help her run her business wasn’t the end of the world, but staying here, and lettingmyselfget close to her? That was a deal-breaker. I needed the distance. Everything with Lexi had happened almost three years ago now, but the mark of her betrayal had broken me from the inside out, replacing it with a vapid wasteland of denial. No one could be trusted. Because in the end, business always mattered more to people like Lexi. To people like Iris. To people like me.
I stood up, moving towards the staircase without a word.
“Roland?” Iris asked, following behind me.
“Bathroom,” I said. I gestured behind us to the white couch. “Wait here.”
Instead of the bathroom, I went straight to my office, needing the escape. Damn it. An escape from my own club should have been a glaring red flag. I couldn’t stand to face a woman who wanted me to stay, because it wasn’t about me. It was about what she wantedfromme. I didn’t take Iris to be a liar, but I hadn’t taken Lexi to be a liar either.
I grabbed a bottle of water from a small refrigerator behind my desk and popped the pill. By the time the Molly kicked in, Iris would have left and I could enjoy my trip without her. Or, if she was still here, I could get her to take some and enjoy the ride with me. Either way, there would be no discussions of the future. New York City was calling me. I was always onto the next project. I couldn’t stay here.
I started researching David Mill’s nightclub when the door to my office pushed open. I hadn’t locked it? I checked my phone again:Iris is demanding your presence, the text said. Why had my security team let her through? I shouldn’t have had my phone on silent.
Iris stepped inside, looking around. The rectangular metal art piece representing a storm hung above my desk. She stared at it.
“Come in. Come in,” I joked.
She shifted toward me, tapping her foot on the floor.
“You left me there with the chatty bartender.”
I chuckled. “I did.”
“You can’t leave in the middle of a conversation. Not when we’re discussing business.”
I tilted my head. “We’re not exactly business partners, are we, Iris? In fact, our bet states that you have to submit to me, which doesn’t include telling me what I can and can’t do.” She stepped back, her posture sagging. “So tell me again, what is it that I’m not supposed to do?”
She looked up at the ceiling in disbelief. “I’m just saying that all I did was ask you if you would help us for a little while longer, and you completely ditched me. Is there a reason you’re avoiding the question? A while ago, you seemed so invested in the club’s future. I don’t understand how you had such a sudden switch.”
With her arms crossed over her chest, her shoulders were small, tucked inside of her. That peek of her upper thighs was tantalizing, especially with the rest of her covered. There had been a picture of her in a baby doll on the Dahlia District’s website, and while it looked excellent on her, I much preferred this: the real Iris.
She tilted her chin, looking at me. She wasn’t afraid to tell me the truth, even when it came to the bet that kept us in this delicate balance, fighting for control. Passion still possessed her, urging her to fight for what she believed in.
Which made me realize something: Iris didn’t hide anything. Not like that.
“You’re right,” I said. “I did leave you there. I shouldn’t have.” I stepped around the desk, meeting her in the middle of the room. I held her hands, looking deep into her brown eyes. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”
The proximity between us was mere inches, and impatience was making it difficult to keep my distance. She looked down at our hands, wrapped in each other’s fingers, then up into my eyes, studying me. Her breathing grew deeper, catching in her throat.
“Not particularly,” she whispered.
I wrapped a hand in her hair then, bringing her towards me, the other hand groping her ass. Our lips met, and I bit her bottom lip. She flinched, but then surrendered, her muscles giving in, our tongues twisting toward each other—then she bit my tongue too. Her mouth was filled with tiny knives for teeth.
