the mute button to ensure they can’t hear my anger through the line.
I feel my heart rate picking up. I feel the urge to smash something or someone.
It’s becoming abundantly clear that Kirk left his wife in a compromising legal situation and with no money to cover his ass. What kind of man does that shit? He may not have hacked it in professional sports, but as far as I know, Kirk finished school, found a respectable career as a college professor, and earns a decent salary. Decent enough to cover his own damn monthly credit card payments.
"No. I'll pay it...I'll pay the debt." I have no control over the words that spill from my mouth. It's like I'm just relaying an incoming message from my subconscious mind. A message that yells to me that this shit isn’t right!
I have the means to fix it, so apparently, that’s precisely what I’m going to do.
So much for silently eavesdropping.
Iris splutters out in surprise, on the other end of the receiver.“W-what?!”
Maybe she didn’t hear what I told the persistent money-hungry douche on the line. “I will pay for it.”
“No, you most definitely will not.”
“Well...somebody's going to pay,” the assclown collector butts in.
“That'll be me,” I answer, with authority, ready to end this argument. I’m doing this, and she’s not going to stop me. I’m ashamed to call Kirk my friend at the moment. This is my way of fixing his asinine mistake. “What information do you need from me?”
“Stop, Jude,” Iris pleads. “I don't need you to—”
I ignore her refusals and carry forward, rattling off my identification information to the slightly amused debt collector. I hear Iris make an exasperated sound through the phone before breaking my eardrum by slamming down her receiver. Her small but angry footsteps sound on the stairs. I speak faster, answering the man’s questions.
I’m still on the call when Iris bursts into my room. She looks a little crazed right now. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she shrieks at me as she dives across the bed for the phone.
Startled, I roll across the mattress, barely avoiding her crash-landing.
What the hell?!
I had no idea doing her a favor would send her into such a frenzied state. “I’m helping you, dammit. How about a ‘thank you’?” What is with this impossible woman?
“Sir, is everything okay?” the man on the phone asks, his concern rising.
My feet hit the carpet. I spin toward my crazed roommate. “A-okay,” I respond.
I raise a hand appeasingly, trying to keep my cool where Iris has so clearly lost hers.
“I never asked for your help!” She hops up on the mattress and then comes at me again, leaping tree frog style.
“You didn’t have to ask. You need help, and it’s something I have the means to handle. There’s no shame in that.”
A voice comes through the phone. “Sir, is your home being invaded? Would you like me to call emergency responders?”
Iris’s sexy legs wrap around my waist. She swipes at the phone, growling viciously and making threats the whole time.
“What?! No!” Trying to keep track of both conversations is starting to become confusing, though. “Just take down my payment information, would you?” I start prattling off my credit card number from memory.
I swear, I don’t know how my free hand ends up on her ass, but suddenly, it’s there, cradling her globes, propping her up. Blood rushes through my veins like white rapids, funnelling straight into my cock.
The last thing I want to do is compromise my healing by putting unnecessary pressure on my knee. That’s the only reason why I tip forward, spilling the crazed woman onto the bed. That’s why I collapse on top of her, pinning her to the mattress with my pelvis as she writhes beneath me for her freedom.
I prop up my upper body on one wrist and clutch the phone in my opposite hand. She’s on her back, her skirt bunched up at the waist to expose a pair of perfect, satiny, voluptuous thighs. Her legs are parted, allowing me a perfect view of the wet spot at the crotch of her white panties. Her clit is a hard, tight nub imprinted against the thin cotton, practically begging to be kissed.
Fuck—I would devour that pussy like a gourmet-quality TV dinner.
I lift my gaze. Me and Iris lock eyes while the man is on the phone reciting his company’s user agreement…or privacy policy…or organ donation guidelines. I don’t even know.
All my attention is on this beautiful woman, the need in