4. Her Table #2
She refused to let him intimidate her. His words were harsh, but she could tell by the arousal simmering in his gaze that he was by no means done with her.
He wanted her. Of that, she had no doubt.
She tilted her head to the side. Maybe there was more to this than she first thought.
More to him than the villain she made him into in her mind.
With a newfound resolve, she turned away from him, taking slow, deliberate steps toward the living room.
Each footfall seemed to punctuate the silent space, a sensual clicking marking her every step.
She slowed down, enjoying the tension that roared between them.
Reaching the couch, she paused, allowing the anticipation to swell like a wave about to break violently against the shore.
Then, with an almost feline grace, Iris bent over the back of the couch, her hands gripping the soft leather.
She arched her back, presenting herself to him in a bold display she never would have dared to do three years ago.
Hell, she wouldn't have done this three hours ago.
Something had shifted inside of her. And she had no desire to fight it.
She was going to wrestle some semblance of control back over her life.
The sheer fabric of her thong left nothing to the imagination, her readiness an open secret for him. And by the deep growl he let loose, he approved of the action. She ducked her face into the leather to hide her triumphant grin.
This power... It was addictive.
She held her breath, waiting for Nash's next move, her body humming with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Would he take the bait this time, or did he have yet another twist in store for her? She didn't have long to wait.
Just then, she heard the quiet steps behind her. She let out the breath she was holding. Yes. He was playing his part in her play perfectly.
Nash's presence loomed just behind her, his breath a warm whisper against the nape of her neck.
She felt the heat radiating from his body as he leaned down, enveloping her in an invisible embrace that set her senses alight.
His fingers, deft and insistent, traced the dampened silk of her thong, skimming upwards to glide along the slick folds that betrayed her arousal.
He gathered her essence with an almost clinical movement.
Then he brought his fingers up, and she looked over her shoulder to see what he was doing.
With wide eyes and heavy breaths, she saw there was nothing clinical about his actions anymore.
He stood there, inhaling the scent of her desire before leaning over her form and licking her earlobe gently—a silent praise for her offering.
"Guess again," he murmured, his voice laced with a playful dominance that sent shivers down her spine. "That’s lovely, but it’s not what I want."
Confusion knit her brow, Iris' pulse quickening as Nash withdrew his warmth, only to seize her hand, spinning her around like a dancer in his arms. She caught a brief glimpse of his eyes—dark and intent—before his hands found her hips.
In one fluid motion, he hoisted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he anchored her to him.
The unexpected strength in his grip rekindled memories that danced at the edge of her thoughts.
The penthouse blurred past them, a gallery of opulence and echoes of laughter now hushed by the thick tension that clung to the air.
With each step Nash took, Iris could tell they were leaving the games behind them and moving towards something all together new.
Something raw, something real. The familiar path to their old bedroom passed by them, and she couldn't hold back the memories. No matter how hard she tried.
Four Years Ago
"Ricky?" she called, while walking down the hallway. Hoping he was finally home after a long business trip.
"It's me, ma fleur." His deep voice answered.
He closed the distance between them with quick feet.
"I was hoping you would be awake still. I've missed you.
" His lips crashed down on hers. She smiled against his lips and let herself fall into his embrace.
Giving him the welcome home he deserved.
"So much. No more trips. I can't stand to be away from you for that long. "
His words sent delicious shivers down her spine. It was rare he ever admitted to something so vulnerable. She smiled brightly at him. " Really?" She could scarcely believe it. She hated when he left. Knowing he too disliked the time apart soothed something deep in her soul.
He pulled back and met her smile with a small but genuine of his own.
"Really." He assured her. "If a trip is unavoidable, you'll just come with me.
" She could scarcely believe her ears. It was like a dream come true.
She'd love nothing more than to travel with him.
The few trips he'd let her come on before were some of her best memories. And now? She'd get even more.
A flood of warmth rushed through her. Knowing he wanted her, valued her, was like a balm to her soul.
"Oh Ricky, I love you!" She whispered desperately while flinging her arms around his shoulders.
Unable to hide her emotion from him. Not to mention how little she wanted to.
She wanted him to know how he made her feel.
"You make me so happy." She pulled back and grinned up at him.
His eyes were warm, but his lips were just slightly lifted up at the edges.
If the smile didn't match the eyes, she ignored it. Unwilling to ruin the moment.
With a shake of her head, she cast off the memory.
There were dozens just like them. Moments she clung to.
Moments that made her believe he loved her just as much as she loved him.
Before her world came crashing down around her.
She forced herself to return to the here and now.
There was nothing in the past except the remnants of the broken heart he left in his wake. This was a new start for them.
To center her back in the moment, she ran her hands over his chest and shoulders.
She could feel the muscles of his torso flexing beneath her fingertips, his heart beating in a steady rhythm against her own.
Anticipation curled within her, a tight coil waiting to be sprung as they crossed the threshold into the room she never thought to see again.
Iris's eyes scanned the room that haunted her dreams. It's adorned in rich browns and dull golds.
Masculine touches of deep black accents throughout the space gave it an overall bachelor pad feel, but not so much so that a woman couldn't imagine herself living there.
Iris certainly could, seeing as how she'd lived here for years.
Looking at it again, she couldn't help but frown. How she hated it.
Why did she never change it? There was nothing particularly wrong with the colors and furnishings, but also, there was nothing particularly right, either. She lived here for years and never made herself at home. Why?
Her mind was drawn forward from memories best left forgotten when they reached the large, expansive bed that would dominate any other room.
But with the sheer amount of space in this one, it seemed right at home.
With a gentle but unrelenting force, Nash lowered her onto the sea of deep brown silk sheets that adorned the bed.
She opened her mouth, planning on asking him what they were doing, but the intensity in his gaze caused her to close her mouth.
Staring into his eyes from this close distance became her whole existence.
The world outside the room seemed to vanish, leaving only the raw edges of their desire.
He placed a sweet, chaste kiss on her lips before leaning back.
He straightened his back and looked at her naked form sprawled out before him with hunger in his eyes.
His eyes maintained locked on hers while he began undressing.
His hands made quick work of his suit, stripping away the layers of fabric that were the armor of his day-to-day battles, revealing the chiseled angles of his physique.
She swallowed past a dry throat, her eyes locked on his form.
He was always fit before, but now? Now his body was rippling with muscles upon muscles.
As if he had spent countless hours toiling away in the gym.
Exorcising some sort of demon... but what could possibly have happened to him in three years that caused so much angst?
Iris was distracted from her inner musings by his voice skating along her nerve endings.