still.
No sound but the echo of her words.
“I’ve never been this close to anyone—not like this—but I think I’ve always wanted it.” Her admission takes courage, and even though I feel a thrill of fear at what I’m about to say, I’m not letting her courage go unanswered.
“It’s the same for me.” I press my lips to hers, kissing her once, hard. “I’ve always wanted this, but I told myself it didn’t exist.”
That belief made the anger at my father easier to stomach. It justified my failure to love Rebecca the way she wanted me to. It gave me the detachment to walk away from her when she asked for more than I could give.
But all that buffering distance is gone now. With Iris, love and loss stare me right in the face. And I refuse to deny myself the love just to avoid the loss.
Even if I had the choice.
“Yes.” Iris's voice goes soft. She runs her hand through my hair and down my neck. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
I capture her mouth with mine, kissing, merging. “You’re not the only one,” I promise.
We kiss until we are breathless and writhing, hands caressing, legs entwining. My fingers stroke Iris again until her little cries are nearly enough to send me out of my mind.
“Beau, I want you inside me.”
When I thrust inside her, stoking her pleasure a third time, hearing her call my name, feeling the clutch of her legs around my hips, her arms around my back, the pounding of her welcoming heart, my eyes are the ones that go damp. This fleeting moment—this union of body and soul—is one I know I’ll never get enough of.
So as the storm rails, I make love to Iris. I make love to her as the world stills when the eye passes overhead. I make love to her when the winds shift and finally blow themselves out. It’s only when the barest pink of dawn shows herself that we collapse in sleep above the covers, our bodies slick with sweat, slumber the only relief from all this heat.
Chapter Twenty-Six
BEAU
“I want to ask you something.”
Iris is bouncing in the passenger seat of my truck. Mica rides behind us, just like he did when we went hiking. But that’s where the similarity to that day ends. My fingers are threaded through hers as we ride, and I’ve already been inside her twice this morning. Once when we woke up around ten and again in the shower—a cool shower thanks to the power still being out—but in this heat not even the cold water is really cold.
We’ve sought refuge in my truck. In the wake of the storm, the humidity is throwing a frat party, and it’s as though the wind has a hangover. It refuses to lift even the mildest breeze.
We had to open Iris’s garage door by hand, but it was worth it to get to the truck and drive—if for nothing else but the air conditioner. But there’s a dusk-to-dawn curfew, and it’s already mid-afternoon, so our joyride won’t last long.
We’re headed to St. Martinville to see if we can check on the tiny house, but with trees down and traffic lights out, we might have to turn back before we get to Lake Martin Road.
“Ask me anything,” I say, squeezing her hand.
Iris hesitates until I look at her. She’s biting her bottom lip.
“What’s wrong?” I nudge.
Even with the heat and the hassle of no electricity, it’s been an awesome day. What could possibly be wrong?
She shifts in her seat, seeming to steel herself. “What do you think about being my dance partner for the movie?”
Out of all of the possible questions she could ask me, this one I don’t see coming.
“What do you mean? Don’t they already have someone cast for that?”
Iris nods with a shrug. “Probably, but I’m way more comfortable dancing with you than I would be with anyone else.”
My chest warms, and I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb. “You can do the routine with another dancer. You know that, right?” Iris’s lack of confidence was one of our biggest challenges in the beginning. I know she can do this without me, but she needs to believe that too.
“Maybe,” she concedes, her voice edged with uncertainty, “but I’d rather do it with you. Would you be willing?”
A quick glance shows me her open, unguarded expression. I’d do damn near anything for her.
“If it would make you feel better, I’ll do it. If