her eyes. And she’s not fighting me anymore. Instead, she’s staring at me, lips parted, chest heaving.
Did she just circle her hips? It was subtle but I’m pretty sure she just circled her hips, rubbing herself against my rock hard cock.
In the bravest moment of my 29 years, I give a little hip thrust just to test and see. She responds by lifting her pelvis, locking her ankles behind my back and circling again.
Well, this is an unexpected turn of events.
I close my eyes. I groan.
The man on the phone is a very unwelcome third party in this situation. He’s merrily spouting off some legal information I’m not even listening to. “Man, do you have all the information you need? Because I have some far more interesting shit to do.”
At my impatient words, Iris’s trance is broken. She freezes and her eyes widen like she just realized what she’s doing.
She unlocks her ankles and begins to wiggle her way up the mattress to get away from me.
Fuck!
I hurry the man off the phone and fling the device onto the nightstand before I lose the moment with Iris completely.
She’s disheveled to hell. Her chest is heaving violently. Her diamond blue eyes pin me with pure, unfiltered rage. “You wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?”
No. I wanna kiss you. My gaze falls to her mouth. I feel my face morph into a smirk.
The feeling doesn’t seem to be mutual. Not anymore.
“You don’t know anything about me,” she grits. She scrambles to sit up and tug her skirt into place. “You can’t just come into my home and start getting involved in my private business. That’s not what I signed up for!” She clambers to her feet.
I blink for a second, and then open my mouth, but she holds up a palm.
“I am not done,” she slowly and carefully enunciates. Her hand is trembling. Her voice is shaky when she talks again, and while each word is meant to stab me, she’s no longer yelling. This is no better. I think this tone is far worse. “I am independent, and I will never again rely on any man to take care of me.” She chokes on her last word, and she spins around, trying to hide the tears that spring to her eyes.
Well, shit.
I hop up, with my stiff leg nearly locking up on me. I make my way over to her before she has a chance to run. I wrap my arms around her, holding her to my chest as her body shudders with uncontrollable sobbing. Although she cries silently, I can feel her agonizing pain. It seeps from her pores, penetrating me deeply. This is a woman who is completely overwhelmed and past her breaking point.
I hold her until the crying subsides a bit, and then I guide her to sit on my bed. Whatever sexual tension that was brewing between us earlier is completely on the back burner now.
I grab the bottle of tequila from my bag in the corner. Cracking it open, I hand Iris the bottle. Her watery gaze meets mine before she accepts it, like she's trying to figure out my intentions.
My cock is still as hard as a steel rod but I'm not trying to get in her panties. I'm more interested in figuring out what the hell is going on in her head.
Iris drinks straight from the bottle. Something I never imagined this prim and proper woman doing. She takes another big gulp, choking the bottleneck in her tight grip, and then sucks in a shaky breath. Even at her worst, she’s fascinating to me. I sit silently, listening to her breath slowly even out, as she seeks comfort in the liquor and finds her version of calm.
“Did I—did I hurt your knee?” She dares to peek up at me from under pale, wet lashes. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just…”
“My knee is fine.” I assure her with a small smile.
She takes another swig and cringes.
I perch next to her on the mattress. “What happened?” I ask softly.
She looks up at me, brows pinched. “Huh?”
“With you and Kirk. What happened?” I have to know. It’s been eating me alive.
Chewing on the tip of her finger, she shakes her head and drops her gaze.
I softly pinch her chin between my fingers to lift her face. “Iris, I need to know.” Because I've been struggling to keep my hands off of her in a show of loyalty to Kirk. I need