Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
SAM
A fire had stoked inside of Sam watching Iris nerd out on something she loved.
It was his singular aphrodisiac.
“Why are you smirking at me with those smirky, hot man lips?” Iris’s eyebrow rose in challenge.
He chuckled as his hand found her cheek in the dim hallway light. “No reason.”
“Oh, come on. What is it?” She stuck her chin out, daring him.
“You’re pretty sexy when you can’t help but nerd out.” He crowded her in the doorway of the hotel room, staring at her lips.
Her jaw dropped in indignation as her eyes lit up with laughter. “I am not a nerd.”
“Oh, yeah, you are, Bertone. A sexy, hot, know-it-all nerd.” He leaned close, kissing her jawline, her neck. “You’re passionate and smart. And your eyes turn this shade of navy, like an angry ocean storm when you want a fight.” He pressed her back against the doorway of the room and her eyes crackled. “Like right now.”
He pressed his lips to hers with a growing urgency. Tracing her lip with his tongue, he buried his hand in her hair. The silky feel of her waves felt best when he’d rake his fingers up through it and get that little moan of hers. “Your eyes light up and you come to life. You become…you.”
She leaned her head away so he had better access to her neck. Her arms wrapped around him, pressing him closer, and he could feel her smile. “At least I’m not a sapiosexual.”
He interlaced their hands and brought them above her head. She stared up at him with swollen lips, biting the bottom one through her smile.
“I bet you can’t wait to tell me what that is,” he said, capturing that mouth that tortured him. Her tongue met his, searching, seeking.
Christ, this woman was perfect. He needed to bite every last part of her, feel her under him. One hand held her wrists in place while the other moved to her breast, and she pressed into him, urging him on.
“Someone turned on by nerds,” she said with a gasp as his mouth moved to her breasts, needing to kiss or lick or suck them. Anything. Iris’s tits had haunted his thoughts for years, and he’d never get enough of doing exactly what he wanted. He ran a tongue between her cleavage. Her skin tasted salty and smelled sweet, like the vanilla lotion she wore.
He nipped her as he unbuttoned her jeans. “That’s it, tease me more. It only makes me think of all the ways I want to fuck you.” He slid her jeans down over her thick thighs, dropping to press a kiss to her panty line as he helped her step out of them.
He lingered there, wanting her scent everywhere as he pressed his face into her with a kiss. Ten years he’d been thinking about this. She wore dark purple lace panties, and his tongue itched to slide underneath her panty line where it met her skin. Take them off with his teeth.
Fuck . He was an animal. Just wanting to take and fuck and claim her. “I’ve dreamed of doing something for years,” he muttered against her thigh, fucking gone for her.
“Yeah?” she said with a sly smile and an arched eyebrow as she caressed his face. “Is it finally winning an argument?”
His teeth playfully dug into her, delighted. “No,” he warned. “It’s this.” He grabbed her upper thighs, lifting her up and tossing her onto the desk next to them.
“Holy fuck, Sam.” She grabbed for him, and he yanked her ass to the edge of the desk so her panty-covered clit met the bulge of his cock in his jeans.
He ground her against him, their foreheads together. “Every time we’d argue in college, I’d have this flash in my head seeing all that passion. I’d imagine hauling you onto a desk.” He pulled down her shirt and her bra, exposing her breasts. “And I’d taste it all for myself.”
He kneeled and swept her panties out of the way. Her pussy was pink and soaked with desire. Spreading her legs wide with his shoulders, he held them apart and started teasing kisses along her inner thigh.
He teased hot breaths against her pussy, and her hips arched up to meet him, searching for him.
He held her more firmly in place.
“Larsson,” she gasped. “I swear to god.” She grabbed her nipple for relief.
“Bertone,” he chastised. “I want my face soaked, but I didn’t say I’d make it easy on you.” He kissed above her panty line and nipped along the crease of her thigh, blowing on her clit as he passed from side to side.
She pulled his head down, but he resisted. He had to savor all that pink perfection glistening for him. He wanted her begging and wild for him. His hands dug into her ass. Iris had perfect, wide hips. He’d thought about bending her over and spanking her round, thick cheeks.
She moaned, sitting up and grabbing both nipples, her face pinched with need.
He nipped along her thigh, letting his stubble graze her skin. He swirled his tongue as he kissed her, moving closer and closer to her pussy. His hand moved to stroke closer and closer, just on the outside of her entrance. She clenched and sought his fingers, but he teased and teased.
He wanted to see his Iris. The passionate storm that was all-consuming.
His breath puffed against her pussy, hovering just above her clit and teasing her. It was wet and begging for his tongue as she ratcheted up.
With a whisper of a touch, his tongue barely made contact with her clit. Just enough to edge her into wanting more. To drive her out of her brain and into her body.
“Sam,” she moaned, arching off of the desk with need. She threw her head back in agonizing pleasure at being made to wait. She lay on the desk, tits arched in the air as she grasped his hair. “Please, please, please,” she begged him, losing control like he’d always wanted to see.
Moaning just for him.
Finally .
He let her push his head into the hot, wet heaven of her pussy. She gasped as he licked and sucked every inch, screaming in pleasure. His shoulders held her legs open, and she looked wanton and perfect as he ate and ate.
Her hips moved hard, up and down, up and down, riding his face.
A passionate storm just for him.
He licked up, finding her cheat-code spot from before. She cried higher, arching closer to him. He teased her with his tongue with tiny licks, slowly in and out of the corner of her clit. Edging her toward craving him.
“More,” she begged, gasping as her hips bucked against him. He was stingy, though, wanting to prolong the agonizing pleasure.
Cock aching in his jeans, he was about to come from looking at the writhing, passionate mess in front of him. Her tits bounced as she bucked against him, searching for more and more.
He sucked punishingly hard on her clit, and she threw her head back, arching off of the desk like a live wire. Christ, I can’t take it anymore. He gave in and lowered the zipper of his jeans, needing to tug on his cock while he watched the show in front of him. He’d always wanted her like this, wild for him.
He brought her closer and closer to the edge until she couldn’t take it any longer, screaming and begging for him. Sweat slid down her breastbone as she grabbed his head, fucking his face. He licked it off her stomach, salty and so fucking hot. He slid a finger inside.
“That’s my storm,” he murmured against her thigh before he sucked her so hard she climaxed, screaming and clawing at him.
With more than a little pride, he reached in his pocket for the condom there. He tore it open and rolled it on, his mouth barely leaving her as aftershocks racked her body.
He stood and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, bringing her face up to him. She met his mouth with a hungry kiss, and he teased his cock at her entrance. “You’re my tempest, Iris. I want every scream and every claw mark. I want all of you.”
Her stormy eyes connected with his as she held him closer, gasping. “Sam,” she whispered, her eyes closed in pleasure. His forehead landed against hers as she grabbed his hand and put it on her heart. “You’ve always had me.”
He slowly pushed into her—hot and tight perfection—and his eyes rolled back in his head from the pleasure.
Her legs wrapping around him, he slid in deeper, and they both gasped, marveling at each other. She was the wind and rain, whipping him bare year after year until they finally uncovered this between them.
Has it always been this simple?
He pulled her head back to meet his eyes. “I can take whatever you’ve got. It’s me,” he said with a slow kiss as she clenched hard around him. “ Fuuuuck ,” he growled. “Yeah, like that. I want you , Iris. All of you.”
He pulled back and slid in harder as her legs tightened. He pulsed hard, slamming his hips against hers.
“I know you’re like me,” he growled. He tightened the fist in her hair and she moaned, clenching around him. “All that passion inside needing to get out. You want to be fucked hard, don’t you, darling? You need it.”
Her mouth locked on his with a moan. “Yes, yes,” she whispered.
He wanted to claim her, fuck her into being his. Fill her up and watch her drip with his cum.
Wrapping his hands around her thighs, he picked her up and fucked her against the wall, slamming and slamming into her as a lamp crashed off the desk. Her legs tightened around him, bringing him back harder and harder, with her scratching his neck, his back as she etched herself into him. Around him.
He needed more. Harder. “Need to feel you come around my cock,” he panted.
He moved them to the bed. He sat down with her straddling him, and she sank down further with a moan. His hand wrapped around her chestnut hair, and he pulled back with a smirk. “Do your worst, darling.”
She pressed him backward with a challenging eyebrow and moved over him with a slow, cat-like smile until her tits were over his face.
Ah fuck. He couldn’t last long.
She was a goddamn dream straddling him, her hips round and thick over him so he could see his fingers dig in. Her breasts were full and ripe, needing his mouth on them. Begging to be sucked.
She ripped off her shirt and caged him with her hands on either side of his head, riding him hard, tits bouncing. He pushed her down onto his cock harder and harder while she ground her clit hard against him, and he wanted to feel her ripple around him.
Sweat dripped off of her, and their bodies were slick with it. He sucked on her nipple as she slammed into him with abandon, grunting and moaning. Fuck yes. Lose control with me.
He pistoned inside her with an animalistic need, fucking her harder, faster, until she was moaning higher and higher. He slid a finger between them. He got one circle in on her clit as she broke and cried out, clenching his cock so hard that he saw stars.
“Iris,” he groaned her name. A waterfall of pleasure shot down the base of his spine, and he arched off the bed with Iris on top of him, getting every last fuck in.
Collapsed on the bed in a sweaty, tangled heap, Sam wasn’t sure if he’d maybe died. He held her head against his chest as she gasped for breath and leaned over for a long kiss on her temple.
Finally, my Iris.
* * *
It’s her passion , Sam realized, that has me by the balls.
Iris was a curvy goddess with a face like a sultry angel, but he’d never get tired of her passion. Iris felt strongly about everything. She loved it or she hated it. She had no poker face, and she never lied as a rule.
That had to be it.
That was the reason he’d found himself planning out their future in his head.
That was the reason he’d thought about calling Ben and pulling himself out of the running for the D&D role.
She sat in front of him, gesticulating wildly as she listed the insights from her historical tour that afternoon.
“And then even though she’d been written in as a joke,” she said, slamming her fist down on the table, getting excited, “she argued there was a loophole in the logic that women couldn’t vote but could serve, and went on to be the first female mayor in the state. Annnnd I’ve completely lost you.”
“No, no. I’m listening,” he said, sitting back in his dining chair. “I feel like I can now finally tell you you’re just adorable when you get excited, and I was distracted with some other thoughts.”
“I knew as soon as we had sex, I’d lose all credibility,” she said, smirking over her tea.
“Quite the opposite, in fact.”
He broke off the end of what would be his third piece of pumpkin bread. They’d opted to attend the fall-inspired tea that afternoon. She’d been late to meet him, which had given him time to arrange a small surprise he hoped she’d enjoy.
“Your credibility is one of the sexiest things about you. Well, that”—he popped the pumpkin bread in his mouth—“and your bun-buns.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
She kicked him under the table as he laughed.
He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the night before and this morning, and again this morning. He smiled to himself. She’d pried herself away from him to attend the “can’t miss” town tour as part of her reporterly duties.
“What did you do this morning?” She asked.
“Sorted through the photos to weed out the bad ones.”
He’d also spent an embarrassing amount of time looking at the candids he’d snapped of Iris. Her laughing, talking with people who worked at the orchard or at the general store. He’d saved several, putting them off to the side. They could make good headshots for when she became a big-shot writer.
And, of course, he’d starred his favorite: one of the many in which she’d been staring directly into his camera while she flipped him off with what he now knew as eyes that didn’t hate him. Eyes that were as hopeless about him as he was about her.
Iris pushed back from the table and stretched. “I should probably write this afternoon. Get some thoughts down from the past few days.”
“But I was really hoping you could do something else with me this afternoon,” he said with a wink.
Iris’s cheeks tinged pink, and she leaned forward and whispered, “I’m a little sore from this morning. It’s been a long time since I’ve…”
“Had your lede buried? Claimed your byline? Covered your local beat? Wrote a nut graf ?”
“Oh my god, stop,” she said, putting her hands on her face.
“I can go all day, got a million of them. But no, horndog, that’s not what I had in mind. It’s started to rain,” he said, pointing to the window full of gray light in the dining room. “And I have it on good authority that the library lounge”—he stood and held out his hand for her—“has a tin roof.”
“Ooh.” She shimmied her shoulders as she stood.
He interlaced their fingers as they meandered out of the dining room. “And I asked Chef Beverly, who said they have fifteen Kentucky bourbons on hand.”
“You somehow just got hotter,” she said, curling against him.
He held up the bag he’d grabbed from behind his chair as they left. “I also went by the bookstore and got the new biography of Nellie Bly for you.”
“Gimme gimme gimme.” She made grabby hands at the biography.
Called it. Such a nerd.
“Finally, I took the liberty of pulling out your comfy pants and putting them on the bed upstairs. I will order us two bourbons on the rocks and be down here when you’re ready to read by the fire, listening to the rain.”
Yes, nailed it. I am the best fake-slowly-fading-into-not-fake boyfriend ever.
She spun around to him with wide eyes and a smile, poking him in the stomach. “Oh…you like me like me, Larsson.”
He swallowed a smile as he pulled her in by her belt loop on her corduroy pants. “What gave it away?” He leaned in, whispering in her ear. “Was it when I couldn’t take my eyes off of you earlier, or when I wore your thighs like earmuffs last night?”
She melted against him. “Maybe I’m not that sore.”
He kissed the top of her head, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him hard. “Go,” he said, swatting her ass. “There are comfy pants to be had.”
She practically skipped to the elevator.
As Iris snuggled into his side ten minutes later, a blooming warmth settled somewhere in his chest. She was already knee-deep in the Nellie Bly biography.
They lounged on the velvet sofa as thick raindrops hit the metal roof of the library. The pitter-patter of rain intertwined with the crackle of the fireplace in front of them, warming their feet. Guests milled about, going to and from the reservation desk with soft, murmured voices—the perfect soundtrack to reading.
Chef Beverly had selected a smoky and sweet bourbon for them. As it hit his tongue, he felt the snort of Iris laughing beside him while reading.
He realized with a start that this was damn near perfect.
He’d backpacked Asia, shot assignments in the Middle East and Europe, and spent leisurely summers in the Adirondacks, but if he had to choose his favorite moment, he’d pick right now over all of them. He was sated, settled.
Happy.
He brushed his lips over Iris’s hair and they lounged quietly. Nothing against the alien smut in his hands, but he reread the same two sentences over and over again as his mind whirled.
You’re almost done with the trip.
It’s never been better than this. You had the best sex of your life with the woman you’ve never been able to get out of your head.
He looked down at her as she was enthralled in the book, a finger caught in her mouth as she speed-read through it. Such an adorable nerd.
She was enthralling, all-consuming, sexy, funny, and talented, and he’d finally grown up enough to realize it. He’d read in his Psych 101 course that girls matured faster than boys through a combination of societal expectation and basic biology. He’d scoffed at the time, thinking that he was just as mature as any girl he’d known in college, but as a montage of their arguments flashed in his head, he realized that Iris behaved in much the same way that he remembered from seven years ago.
But he’d changed.
Now he was smart enough to realize she wasn’t someone to beat, and if he played his cards right, she might be the best partner he’d ever have.
The people he’d dated after college had largely been fine. But due to the instability of his job, he’d ended up having to leave them a month or two later. Now, however, he still had six months on his lease in Boston and currently had no plans of leaving. He wanted stability in his life, and if that meant turning down international assignments, then that was fine.
He hadn’t breathed a whisper of what would happen after this was all over in a few days.
Just enjoy the ride , he told himself, but he didn’t want to let her go.
He squeezed her closer to him.
She looked up over her shoulder with a smile. “This is the best night ever.”
He rubbed a hand up and down her arm then tipped her chin up to kiss her. It was a slow, lingering, sweet thing. The spicy, sweet aftertaste of bourbon was on her lips, and he licked her bottom lip, wanting to savor it.
“Agreed,” he said as he pulled away with a whisper.
His best date ever.
Sam realized with regret there would only be three more nights of this. Three more nights of a gorgeous woman who he loved to tease, running her ice-cold fingers under his shirt as they cuddled together.
He sighed at the possibility that one of them would get the role at Discover & Dwell , which would make things awkward. He could see Ben favor a photographer/writer combo instead of just a writer.
Do I even want the job?
Maybe.
But one thing was certain.
After fifteen years of waiting for Iris, he wasn’t letting her go without a fight.