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She shook her head. There was a spot of plum juice at the corner of her mouth and it dragged my eyes down. Making me focus on her full mouth, filling my mind with the dirtiest image of her on her knees with her lips wrapped around my cock.
“Are you going to make me go shopping barefoot?” she asked.
“I guess so,” I said, standing up.
She stayed seated. “I can’t do that.”
I moved across the deck and pulled open the sliding doors. “What’s your suggestion, princess? Shall I carry you so your feet never have to touch the ground?”
She scowled and jumped up, grabbing a bagel and another plum. As she flounced past me, her body bumped into mine and a warm shock moved directly to my groin. She was sexy when she was mad like this, all her feathers ruffled. Stomping in front of me with her thick ass jiggling under her shorts.
“Stop smirking,” she called over her shoulder.
I didn’t bother replying. Usually I liked compliant women, the ones who did what I wanted without me even having to ask. Who wanted my money enough to say and do everything I commanded. Iris had done nothing but defy me from the moment she’d woken up on the boat to now and I couldn’t get enough of it.
I was pathetic.
Neither of us spoke while I led her down the shore to the boat. When I lifted her around the waist to help her off the dock, she sniffed loudly and shook her hair back. Her lower lip pushed out and her arms crossed.
If I hadn’t been irritated, I’d have found her defiance amusing. Instead, I pretended I had no idea why she was sulking in her seat and occupied myself with helping the crew of two men get the boat out onto the water.
Her presence was a chilly vortex. Every time I glanced over, she was sitting with her body in a knot and her brow arced.
Clearly she wanted me to make the first move.
I could give her that. It might not be the first move she wanted, but I took the ankle monitor out of my pocket and walked over. Her gaze flicked over me, and to my surprise, she didn’t speak when I knelt and snapped it around her ankle.
Heat crackled as our skin touched. Her hips jerked, I knew she felt it.
I should have walked away, but instead I slid my open palm beneath her bare foot. Her toes clenched. Heat spread slowly up my arm, bringing flashbacks of her body writhing under mine.
Fuck, I was getting hard.
My head snapped up. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. Did she see my thoughts in my face?
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
My hand moved up, encircling her ankle. Her toenails were an iridescent white and there was a tan line where her anklet sat. My pulse increased, remembering the other places she had tan lines. I’d seen them when she was naked in my bed. Three little triangles where her bikini covered her pussy and breasts.
“Stop touching me,” she said.
I released her, pulling back and rising. If she saw the half-erection in my pants, she didn’t say anything. I needed to get control of myself when I was around her because staying constantly hard was getting to be a problem.
“Do you have a foot fetish or something?” she snapped.
“No, not that I know of,” I said. “I was thinking about your cunt, not your feet actually.”
She gasped. “How dare you!”
“Pretty easily actually. I’ve got a tendency to dare all over the place.”
“What?”
“Never mind, princess,” I said.
I sank down on the bench opposite her and crossed my ankle over my knee. She found my stance annoying, I could tell by how sharply her brows arced.
“Are you always this irritable?” I asked.
