4. Jackson
Jackson
Iwas completely fucked. Iris was settled into my house, and I had to keep talking my dick down so she wouldn’t notice the massive tent in my pants.
It’s just that her toothbrush was next to mine on the bathroom sink, her clothes were in my bedroom, and she’d insisted on making dinner to “pay me back” while she was here.
Seeing her in my kitchen, tending my stove with my favorite meal—which of course she knew—was every fantasy I’d ever had come to life.
“You should call up Cole and Hunter and invite them over. Hunter probably hasn’t had a good meal since he went to prison.” She glared at me, amber eyes fierce against her bold features. With her hand on her hip, waving a spatula at me and meddling…that was wife shit, right there. It was killing me.
“No.” The word was out before I could think better of it. Having my idiot brothers acting as a buffer was the smartest move, but I didn’t want to deal with either of them right now.
Her chin notched higher in the air. “I’m going to bring them something after dinner, then.”
“Only if I drive you.” Hunter had talked a good game earlier about cleaning up his act, and no fresh needle marks marred his arm, but his friends were no better than Sue’s. Hell, they might be some of the same crowd. If Hunter had brought any of that shit to Cole’s, Iris wasn’t going near it.
“Fine.” She turned back to the stove.
The next few days were going to be pure fucking torture. I needed to figure out where Sue was hiding out and run that bitch off ASAP before my dick hijacked my brain and I did something utterly stupid, like walk up behind Iris and start kissing a line up the side of her neck.
She slid two full plates onto my rickety table and turned to me. “Here. Hope you like it.”
Goddamnit. Of course she fixed me a plate. I sat, thankful the table would hide my erection, and dug in with a grunt.
The meal was a crime against high-quality meat, and I didn’t care one bit.
After dinner, I insisted on doing the dishes, and Iris busied herself with putting servings for Cole and Hunter in Tupperware.
She chose my nicest Tupperware, too. Those bastards better not forget to give it back.
And they better not say shit about how overdone those steaks were.
I wasn’t having Iris insulted on top of everything else today.
Cole didn’t live far from me, so the drive was short. I’d texted to let him know we were on our way, and to make sure Hunter didn’t have any of his old crew over.
Hunter’s sat up in front of the tv. Says he hasn’t controlled the remote in four years and the novelty hasn’t worn off yet.
Well, that was a bit of a surprise.
Iris grumbled at me about giving Hunter a chance to prove himself, as if I hadn’t heard the same speech half a dozen times from Cole.
Inside Cole’s apartment, Iris set everything at his kitchen table, then cooed all over Hunter, who gruffly thanked her for the food, his eyebrows knit together. “Since when did you move in with Jackson?”
Iris blushed. “Oh, no. It’s not like that. My mom showed up last night and is being…well…she’s acting shady, and I’m crashing at Jackson’s place for a few days until she leaves town again.”
Hunter shot me a look over Iris’s head. I shrugged. He narrowed his eyes. “Sure, right.”
I glared right back.
Cole poked at his steak. I already knew it was tough as old leather. When he opened his mouth, I kicked him under the table.
He glared at me. “Well, Iris, if Jackson gets on your nerves as much as he gets on mine, you can always crash here instead,” Cole said. “Wait, is that why Savannah called me last night to pick y’all up? ’Cause of your mom?”
Hunter rolled his eyes at Cole, and I could almost see him thinking, So that hasn’t changed, either.
“Yes, that’s why Savannah called,” Iris said, at the same time I said, “You’ve got enough going on over here without adding her to it.”
Iris rolled her eyes. “Which is Jackson-speak for ‘it’s time to leave.’ He’ll get even crankier if we stay.”
It was Jackson-speak for, I’m not letting Iris out of my sight until Sue is out on her ass again. But since she was giving me what I wanted and ending this visit, I let it slide.
Back at the house, Iris changed into pj’s that must have been designed specifically to drive sexually frustrated men crazy: an oversized T-shirt that looked like she could have pulled it out of my closet and teeny-tiny shorts that barely covered her generous ass.
Wait. I squinted at the faded logo stretched across her breasts. “Is that one of my shirts?”
Red stained her cheeks. “It’s one of your shop’s shirts. I don’t remember where I got it from.”
With that, she marched to my hall closet, pulled out blankets and pillows, and arranged them on the couch. I was just thinking what a sweet little thing she could be when she crawled under the blankets.
“Uh-uh. I’m taking the couch; you get the bed.”
She shot me a look. “Why the hell would I be in your bed?”
Of course she had no business in my bed, but I wanted it anyway. “Because I’m not having you knot up your back and legs on my couch.”
She drew the blankets tighter around herself. “You shouldn’t knot up your back and legs, either. You’re bigger than me, and you’ve got to be under cars all day.”
“You’re a guest,” I said, the words sticking in my throat, when all I wanted to do was toss her over my shoulder, carry her off to bed, and explore all those lush curves for a few hours.
Or days. Maybe weeks. However long it took for her to be mine.
Mine enough that she wouldn’t care what I’d kept from her.
“Oh, for god’s sake, we’ve known each other forever. I’m practically family.”
I hid my wince. Family was how I should have been thinking about Iris. “Get in the bed, girl, and quit arguing with me.”
“Only if you join me.”
Every muscle in my body froze. “What?” The only thing keeping me sane right now was the assurance that our attraction was one-sided. If it wasn’t…I didn’t know how long I’d be able to hold out.
She rolled her eyes. “If you can be stubborn, so can I. Either I sleep on the couch, or neither of us does, but it sure ain’t gonna be you.”
Jesus. I’d always known I was weak when it came to Iris, but this moment showed me exactly how weak, because I couldn’t bring myself to keep arguing. “Fine, have it your way. Just don’t complain if I snore.”
She snorted. “I’ve heard you snore plenty, and I lived. Besides, maybe I snore.”
She could snore directly in my ear all night for all I cared.
I let her get comfortable in bed before I joined her. She scooted to the farthest corner, which made my heart twist and ping, even though I knew it was for the best. Hell, I planned to do the same thing.
Not that I expected to get much sleep with Iris a few feet away, wearing my shirt and little else.
I must have fallen asleep eventually, because I woke up the next morning with the biggest hard-on I’d ever had in my life. Shit. I needed to take care of this before Iris woke up and screamed.
I eased out of bed and snuck into the bathroom, locked the door, and jumped in the shower, praying the sound of the water covered any noises I might make.
With my head leaned back on the cold tile, I stroked myself off while thinking about everything I shouldn’t do.
Head back into my room, pull the covers off Iris, and bury my face in her sweet pussy. She’d be surprised at first, but then I’d eat her until she stopped caring and came for me.
My dick jerked in my hand, and I tightened my grip, pumping hard, pleasure gathering at the base of my spine. Then I’d bury my dick in that slick cunt and ride her hard and fast until she screamed my name.
I busted all over my knuckles, rinsed the spend down the drain, and finished showering.
Fuck. I hadn’t bothered to grab clothes before I came in here, too used to not having to worry about it in my own home.
I dried off, wrapped a towel around my waist, and hoped Iris was still asleep.
She was, kind of. She rolled over, looking at me with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. “Mornin’.”
“Mornin’.”
Her eyes opened wider, fixing on my naked chest.
My dick twitched in response, and I tried to think about literally anything else except her dark eyes trailing over my body. “I’ve gotta…”
“Oh, right.” She blushed, then ducked her head. “You probably want some privacy, too.”
Before I could tell her to stay where she was, she popped out of bed, still wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt with my company’s logo all over it and the tiniest shorts known to man, and traipsed out of the room, giving me an eyeful of an ass I wanted to bite into.
My dick was at full mast again. I was going to beat myself raw if she stayed here. With a groan, I palmed it, trying to remind it we’d already had our fun, and we had shit to do today.
Willing away my erection, I dragged on some clothes and went out to the living room.
Iris was already fixing breakfast, and my heart kicked. Was this what a lazy Sunday with her could be like? If she decided she liked overbearing assholes and I wasn’t hiding a massive secret?
“Shower’s all yours,” I said.
She startled, but kept her gaze on the stove. “Oh, yeah. I’ll grab one after breakfast.”
I cursed myself yet again. If I had to spend the next fifteen minutes watching her eat while she was braless—I couldn’t finish that thought.
Since Iris was determined to “make herself useful” by cleaning my already-clean house in thin yoga pants that hugged her curves and another oversized T-shirt, I made myself scarce. After telling her not to leave until I came back, of course.
“I’m not a child.” She crossed her arms.
“No, you’re a target.”
“You’re making my mom sound way more dangerous than she is.”
“You don’t know who she’s mixed up with.” I stepped closer and couldn’t stop myself from running a finger down her cheek. Heat raced along my fingertips from the small point of contact. “Stay put for a few hours. Please?”
She sucked in a breath, eyes widening, cheeks flushing. “What if something happens?”
“You call me.”