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Ronan
Atext from Matt had my jaw grinding.
Matt:We’re at a lounge called Vertigo. I know the bouncer. Your name’s on the list, boss.
Little shit was awfully presumptuous. He’d thought I was on a date, so why would I have chased Iris to Vertigo?
But I had already been tempted before he’d sent his follow-up text. After that, there had been no stopping me.
Matt:Ms. Adler and Ms. Hawkins have both taken a tablet of ecstasy. I’m watching them closely, keeping them hydrated. They seem fine, but I won’t leave their sides.
My control had slipped. The possibilities of what could happen to Iris in my absence had filled every crack in my armor. Matt might have been watching, but he had to have his eyes on all three women. Something could happen. Someone could get to her when his attention was diverted.
The sight of Iris in the arms of a woman had turned my feet to lead. Frozen in one spot, bodies writhing to the heady beat surrounding me, I watched as this woman touched her. Had very nearly interfered when Iris tried to step away and the woman pulled her back in.
I recognized Megan Mills from the file I’d made on Iris. I hadn’t trusted her before seeing her live and in person, and now I was darkly suspicious. She didn’t seem like she was over Iris. Her hands on Iris’s body were proprietary.
If she hadn’t left the dance floor when she had, I didn’t know what I would have done. Probably something I wouldn’t have been proud of, that was for damn sure.
Iris spun, and our eyes clashed. This was my first look at her head-on, and now I could see she wasn’t quite there. Lucid, but behind a glass wall, fogged with euphoria. Her easy smile and crooking finger beckoning me to her was a dead giveaway she wasn’t fully herself.
I had had enough, and so had she. Closing the space between us in four strides, I wrapped my fingers around her arm and tugged her against me.
“It’s time to go home, Iris.”
She shook her head slowly and smoothed her palm down my chest. “No. You should dance with me.”
“You’re high.”
Her tongue peeked out and traced along her top lip. “I taste like cherries.” Her mouth cracked into a smile. “And I’m not that high. I’ll remember everything tomorrow.”
“Did you invite her here? Megan?”
She licked her lip again and slotted her finger between buttons on my shirt, touching bare skin. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t invite you either.”
My hold on her tightened until she grimaced and her palm curled into claws. “Home, Iris.”
“Dance with me, Ronan. You followed me here for a reason.” Her head whipped around, eyes wild. “Wait, is your girlfriend here? Where is she?”
My other hand came up to grip her chin, stilling her. “No, Iris. That was my ex-wife, and she isn’t here. It’s only me.”
She stepped into me, slowly rolling her hips. “And me. It’s only you and me.” She tangled her fingers in the back of my hair, scratching my scalp and nape. “Did you like when she touched you like this? Did it make you hard?”
“No.” I peered down at the woman who’d crawled into my system right under my nose. And I had done nothing to stop it from happening. She was stunning tonight, tousled raven hair, smudged lipstick, eyes so bright and alive, they were impossible to look away from. Her dress hugged every curve, cleavage swelling over the bodice.
Her hips rocked against mine, the softness of her lower belly pressing my cock between us. “You’re hard now, Ronan.”
“I am.” My gaze on her was unwavering. I had a line I never crossed, but as soon as I’d made the decision to come here, I’d known my line was fucked. I’d taken a match to it and burned it to ashes. “I want you home, Iris.”
She held on to my neck, dancing against me, using me like a pole until I gave in, taking her waist and yanking her against me. I wasn’t high, I didn’t dance, but fuck if I didn’t move with this woman. She tossed her head back, trusting me to support her body while she swung her head around and ground her center against me.
Righting herself, her blue eyes were piercing. Lips curving into a sultry grin, she grazed them over mine. Before she could pull away, I grasped her chin and bit down on her bottom lip. Her breath hissed, nails digging into me. She did taste like cherries, and she still smelled like honey.
Iris’s tongue licked the spot my teeth had just been, and a moan that could barely be heard over the music slipped out of her.
“I need to take you home, Iris.” It was imperative. My instinct was screaming at me to take her out of this place, lock her up, keep her safe and contained—away from this crowd, the leering gazes, the whispers, rumors, danger.
She shook her head, denying me, plastering her body to my chest. “I can’t leave my girls.”
