25. Iris
25
IRIS
“Sweetheart, waiting isn’t an option.”
Instead of answering, I close the shower door and drop to my knees in front of him.
“Holy shit,” he whispers.
I lick my tongue along the length of his hard shaft, refusing to be the only one who receives this kind of pleasure.
“Iris, you don’t have to?—”
He chokes to a stop as I take him deeper into my mouth, and he mutters another curse. I draw back and look up at him.
“I want to, Jake. I want all of you.”
He’s adjusted the shower head so it’s hitting the wall, but the steam envelopes us, and his lids are at half-mast as his chest rises and falls.
“You’ve got me,” he manages with a raspy breath.
If I’m being honest, I’ve never felt comfortable with this kind of intimacy. There’s a level of trust in taking a man into my mouth. It makes me feel physically vulnerable, and I don’t trust people easily. Especially men.
But I love the taste and feel of Jake. The way he keeps murmuring my name like a prayer. The fact that I—uptight, awkward, stick-in-the-mud, Iris Dixon—can make a man like preternaturally charming Jake Byrne wild with desire.
And there’s no doubt I’m doing that to him. His hips have started pumping slightly like he can’t control himself. Because of me. It’s a powerful feeling, and I know enough not to take it for granted. To take this connection we have for granted.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he tells me. “So good, Iris. So fucking good.”
I might not have a lot of confidence in my own sexual skills, but I’m a quick learner. I revel in every moan and shudder that goes through him and adjust my rhythm in response. Then I reach up and cup his balls with one hand, massaging them gently. He rewards me with another string of cursing that’s strangely gratifying.
He jerks back suddenly and reaches around me to turn off the water. Before I can protest, he yanks me to my feet and lifts me into his arms.
“I’m just getting started,” I tell him, and he groans again.
“I need to finish inside you, Iris. And before I do, I’m going to make you come again. So fucking hard.”
He walks the two of us, soaking wet, out of the bathroom toward the bedroom across the narrow hall.
“I don’t think I have it in me to come again so soon,” I say with a laugh as I kiss the underside of his jaw.
“That sounds like a challenge,” he growls. “One I’m happy to accept.”
I smile as he pulls back the covers and lays me across the sheets, but then I prop up on my elbows. “Jake, I’m dripping wet. I need a towel.”
“You haven’t seen dripping, but we’re going to get you there.”
“Big talk,” I tell him, and his eyes flash with delight.
I’ve also never had this much fun in the bedroom. I’m not super experienced, but in the past, sex has felt like something serious. Not that this doesn’t mean something. It means far more than I’m willing to admit. But the lightness of it—the fun—surprises me in the best way possible.
Fun.
Is there anything that isn’t fun when Jake is involved?
Unbidden, the image of him walking away springs to my head.
But he’s no longer seventeen-year-old Jake who I watched drive away with my brother, both of them headed for the wilderness camp. The rehabilitation center was supposed to help them grow and learn from their mistakes, but sent my brother into a downward spiral he barely survived.
Right now, I see this version of Jake leaving me. Because that’s what happens when I love someone. They leave.
“Don’t do it,” he says as he climbs onto the bed and balances his big body over mine. For a moment, I feel like he’s invaded my thoughts and read my mind. “Do not leave me, Dixon. Get out of your head. We’re at this service together, and it’s just getting to the best part.”
He’s right, I don’t want to think about the past or the future. I want to enjoy the moment, the fun, and how we make each other feel.
“I’m right here,” I tell him and reach out to pull him closer.
He kisses me, but instead of settling himself between my legs the way I expect, he moves down my body.
“Jake, it’s too much.”
“Not between us,” he argues, and the next protest dies on my lips when his tongue sweeps across my center.
Despite my claim that there’s no way I could come again so soon, Jake fulfills his promise to prove me wrong. Within minutes, I’m writhing on the bed from him feasting on me.
I’m so close and then…
“Wait for me, Iris,” he commands, placing a gentle kiss on my mound before climbing off the bed to grab his wallet from the dresser. He takes out a condom, sheaths himself, then returns to me.
“What happened to waiting isn’t an option?” I ask as he kisses his way up my body before centering himself between my outstretched legs.
“This is worth the wait,” he promises and enters me in one powerful stroke.
“Yes.” I’m not sure if I’ve thought the word or screamed it, but this is what I want…what my body has been craving.
How am I so close to losing my heart to Jake when he’s been back in my life for such a short time? I feel like I’ve fallen for him in a way my teenage self never could have imagined.
I know it opens me up to a world of hurt, but not right now.
Right now is all about pleasure and the two of us together, which makes it easy enough to forget the rest.
I taste myself on his lips when we kiss, which somehow adds to the intimacy of it all. His movements become wilder, and my hips thrust to meet his. It’s like neither of us can get enough of the other. When he reaches between us and flicks that sensitive spot at my core, my body shatters harder than it ever has before. Pretty sure I’m screaming now. Jake calls out my name and then goes still above me.
This is more than just sex, and I can’t be the only one who realizes it. This kind of connection doesn’t come along with everyone, right? Is it just me being silly and naive?
“Fucking hell, Dixon,” he whispers, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Which is funny, because to me it feels like being with Jake is bringing me to life in a way I’ve never imagined for myself.
I smile, my body boneless and totally relaxed, which doesn’t happen often. Or at all. “That was nice.”
He barks out a laugh. “That was amazing and awesome and mind-blowing.”
Oh. Yeah, those things, too.
“How do you feel about frequent flyer miles? We need a regular meet-up once I’m back in Austin.”
I blink. “What do you mean, ‘back in Austin’? You’re hoping to be named the head of your grandfather’s foundation. The headquarters are based here.”
He flops down next to me and stretches his muscular arms above his head. “For now. But we also have an office in Austin. That’s where everything was based before my grandparents retired to Colorado. In this age of working remotely...”
He pauses and rolls on his side to face me. I can feel the weight of his gaze, but my eyes are trained to the ceiling above us.
“Did you think I was relocating to Colorado permanently?”
He reaches out and takes my hand. I’m surprised he can’t sense the ice that’s suddenly running through my veins. He has to feel how cold I am. Or maybe numb is the right word.
“I guess I assumed…which is my bad,” I tell him.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asks softly.
“I want you to do what makes you happy.”
I sit up, gathering the sheet to my chest. Well that post-double-orgasm glow faded fast. Although my body still feels heavy with contentment, my brain has short-circuited to the point that this morning’s interlude never happened. So much for Sunday service.
“Tell me you aren’t going to take jobs away from the people in this town.”
“Oh, I get it.” His gray-green eyes narrow. “You only care about the election and me not messing that up for you.”
“I care about the people I represent and what it’s going to mean if the foundation is based someplace else. I know how this goes, Jake. Philanthropic organizations tend to fund locally.”
Damn it. How did we go from awesome and mind-blowing sex to a full-on political debate?
“That’s not necessarily true, and I can guarantee that if my father takes over, he’s going to have an agenda that won’t make either of us happy. His idea of philanthropy is getting his name on as many hospital wings and university buildings as possible.”
I nod like I understand what he’s saying, and I do get it at an intellectual level, but my heart isn’t exactly keeping up with the program. “You have to do what’s best for you,” I tell him.
“I want to do what’s best for the people our foundation serves.”
“That includes the residents of Skylark and the employees who are based here.”
“Are we really doing this right now?” he asks, his thick brows drawing together.
I tell myself to stay in the moment.
“You’re right.” I squeeze his hand. “I’m grateful for this time with you, Jake.”
I must be a better actor than I realize because he relaxes again like we’ve just overcome some huge hurdle. Maybe we have. At least now I know what he’s thinking. And despite his words and my hope to the contrary, it doesn’t involve sticking with me.