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If that was the obstacle in my way, I’d eliminate it. I took my phone out, texting Matt to inform him Iris was with me, to tell Hope and Claire we were leaving. I tucked it away and nodded. “It’s done. Matt is taking care of them.”
Brooking no more argument, I took her hand and led her from the lounge. She came with me easily, her fingers tangling between mine. Bill was waiting out front, as were a few paparazzi. I let go of Iris’s hand before we stepped outside and used my body to shield her from the cameras. She was in the back of the SUV in moments, and I dropped into the front seat immediately after.
The drive went fast. Iris shifted around in the back seat the whole time, touching the windows, the back of my hair, my shoulder, herself. I made her drink a bottle of water from the small cooler Bill kept tucked on the floor. Through my mirror, I watched her roll the bottle between her hands and along her cleavage.
By the time Bill pulled to a stop, my cock strained against my pants. Ignoring it, I got out and helped Iris from the back seat. She glanced around, wide eyed.
“This isn’t home.” Her hand slipped into mine, despite her protest.
“This is my home. I’m not leaving you alone tonight. You’re staying with me so I can watch over you.”
“I don’t need that.” She swirled around, maybe to get back in the SUV, but Bill zipped away from the curb as soon as I shut the door. He was gone, and Iris wasn’t going anywhere.
Stepping in front of her, I shoved my hand under her hair, squeezing the base of her neck. She moaned and tipped her head back, watching me from under hooded eyes.
“I’m not arguing with you. Not tonight. You’re coming inside with me. If I have to toss your pretty little arse over my shoulder, I will.” Not waiting—because I knew this girl now, and she would fight me for the hell of it—I tucked her under my arm and strode into my building. She stumbled, but my hold was so firm, there wasn’t a chance for her to fall. Her toes barely skimmed the ground, and she clung tight to my jacket.
I should have been ashamed by how much I liked her clinging to me, but I wasn’t. Not in the least.
The elevator ride was fast, and I kept Iris in my arms. She shoved at me, but not hard enough to call it a real protest. And when she stopped fighting, her fingers worked on my tie, tugging the knot loose and running her fingers along the silk.
Once I had her in my apartment, door locked, alarm set, I released a heavy breath. Iris separated herself from me and walked into the living room like she owned it. Kicking off her shoes on the way, her toes curled into the plush carpet in front of my couch.
I held my hand out to her. “C’mere.”
To my surprise, she came, grasping my hand and stepping on my toes. She looped her arm around my neck and hopped up to wrap her legs around my waist. I gripped her bottom on instinct, but once I was there, I squeezed each cheek. Iris wasn’t a big woman, but her arse was a perfect peach, soft and round, an exact fit for my hands.
Her lips crashed into mine with a moan. She kissed me like the wild woman she was, not giving me a goddamn second to catch up. My first real taste of the beautiful woman was a narrow bridge without rails on a windy day. Dangerous, tumultuous, but so fucking tempting to throw myself over the edge and take my chances with the fall.
But I had never once given in to the kind of intrusive thoughts that urged me to listen to my base instincts, forget everything, and take the reckless path.
Fisting her hair, I yanked Iris’s mouth away. Her eyes flashed open, half in pain, half cloudy with desire.
“No.”
Sharp nails dug lines above the collar of my shirt. “Are you thinking ofher?”
Breath caught in my lungs. My gaze bored into hers. “No one else exists right now. Not after that kiss. And ifyou’rethinking of herthen I’m not doing a very good job.”
Her nose touched mine. “I might. If you don’t kiss me again, I might remember other people and want to go find them.”
“No.” My palm warmed her arse with a smack. She squealed and tightened her legs around me. Her pussy was hot, fiery against my middle. Too high to rock my cock against, but the feel of her spread wide tested every bit of my restraint.
I walked straight to the bathroom with Iris in my arms. Kicking the door shut behind me, I turned on the shower and set her on the vanity. Her legs clung tight to me as she leaned back against the mirror, raising her arms to rest on the glass.
“You can touch me,” she breathed.
“I know I can.” I smoothed my palms up her thighs, spreading them apart until her ankles unlocked behind me, then I stepped away. “Take off your clothes,meala.”
She sat up, toying with the hem of her dress, rubbing her thighs, pressing them together. “Do you think I’m dirty? Is that why the shower’s on?”
My fingers worked the buttons on my shirt, but I never took my eyes off her. “Iknowyou’re dirty. I don’t want you clean. I want you sober and in my bed. Now, take your clothes off and get in the shower.”
“Are you getting in the shower with me?” She slipped the straps of her dress down her shoulders and shrugged her arms through them so the fabric pooled at her waist. All it took was a sway of her hips for the dress to drop to the floor, leaving her in a strapless bra and panties so tiny and sheer they left nothing to the imagination.
Iris was a sight. Her skin was art, her curves were molded into an exaggerated hourglass. Full, round breasts, narrow ribcage, a nipped waist spreading into hips that didn’t fucking lie, thighs that were so damn plush, all I could think about was what it would be like to have them locked around my head. My cock pulsed with need, to plant myself inside her perfect body, to fuck her into submission, to tie her down and pound into her until she was a pliant little kitten.
“No, you’re showering alone.” I offered my hand. “Come here.”
