I blink my eyes open, but then blink again. Darkness. I pop my head up.
“It’s okay, chère,” Beau says, running a soothing hand down my back. “The power’s out.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
BEAU
“Did we do that?” Iris’s voice is playful, but her body has gone tight—a different kind of tension than the one that fired through her limbs a moment ago when she conquered every last part of me. She’s nervous, alert to the strengthening storm and, bless her, balancing it with jokes.
I laugh, giddy with her, with this moment. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Bad news is it’ll probably be out for a while.” The air has already gone still around us. At least the house is cool as we head into the night. It won’t start getting too bad until the sun comes up tomorrow.
But I couldn’t care less.
If I had my way, this night would never end. Yeah, the winds are just getting angry. I can hear the old oak in Iris’s front yard groaning in protest. A branch that probably should have been trimmed before the storm saws erratically at the eves, making a haunting racket.
But, all in all, we’re safe. And we’re alone. Together. No one is going to barge in on this night. Hell, it’ll take some doing for anyone to even reach us by phone.
Lying naked beneath Iris, I don’t even know where the hell my phone is. Who cares? I’m in heaven right now.
I run my hands over her back, memorizing this feeling. Her body on mine. It’s like a drug. My muscles are heavy, drunk on pleasure, soothed with her weight and warmth.
“You okay?” I ask, mid-stroke. She seems okay, but a lot has happened today, and shit, we’re still in the middle of a hurricane.
She’s propped up on her elbows like a sphinx on my chest, her focus on the west-facing window. My eyes have adjusted, and even in silhouette, she’s every possible definition of beauty. She looks back at me, and I can barely make out her smile.
“That sounds intense,” she says, her voice a whisper, as if we need to hide from the storm.
I nod. “It’s intense, but we’re safe.”
Her hands grip my biceps—just like she did when I was inside her. “Are you sure?”
I squeeze her tighter. “I’m sure the house can handle this storm,” I tell her. It’s the truth. I mean, there are no guarantees the hurricane won’t deal us a rogue tornado, but if that happens, we’ll take cover. No need to have her worrying about that now.
“You sound pretty sure.” Her body relaxes against me, and she rests her head on my shoulder. God, she feels good.
The rain beats and the wind howls. Iris touches me the way I touch her, continuous light caresses. But as light as they are, they still send sparks through my chest. Because she’s choosing this.
She’s choosing me.
My God, I’m crazy about her.
She runs a finger down my sternum, sending electricity along each nerve. “It’s never been like that for me,” she whispers in my ear.
What?
I need to see her face. I roll her into the couch so we’re both on our sides. “What do you mean?”
Lightning flashes, and I see Iris biting her bottom lip as clear as day for one instant.
“Good,” she says softly. Even in the scarce light, I can see her shyness, I can see her hesitation. “Like that.”
“Never?”
She buries her face in my shoulder, and I know if there were enough light, I’d see her blushing.
“Not with anyone else.”
Holy shit.
I stare at her—what I can see of her. Right now, she looks so young. So unsure of herself. But the woman who just made love to me knew exactly what she wanted. And she claimed it, holding nothing back and driving me out of my fucking mind because I’d never felt so wanted.
“That was the best I’ve ever known,” I tell her honestly.
She turns, peeking one eye up at me. “Really?” She sounds genuinely surprised.
I chuckle. “Hell yes, Iris. You were incredible.”
She pops her head up, bringing her face level with mine. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted it that much.” She quickly shakes her head. “I know I haven’t.”
She’s so adorable, I can’t stop my smile. “That makes two of us.”
Her eyes go wide, their whites glinting in the near darkness. And then she smashes her lips to mine, kissing me like I’m what she’s been missing her whole life. Or maybe that’s just what I feel about her.
Damn, it’s true.
She pulls back with just as much force and presses a hand to her forehead. “Shit,” she mutters, shaking her head. And then again. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask gently, hooking her tighter around her middle, but peace and rightness suffuse me. Nothing about this is wrong.
She looks up at me from under her hand. “I… I don’t really know what happens now.”
Like a sniper in the shadows, fear drives an arrow all the way through me. For me, there’s no doubt what happens now. We’re together. For as long as we can be. That’s what I want. No doubt about it.
But for the first time since we kissed, I recognize that Iris and I might not be on the same page. And that scares the hell out of me. Is what happened after our hike going to happen again? Where we just go back to being friends? Dance instructor and student?
I don’t think I can do that now.
My heart squeezes like a fist. I know I’m going to lose Iris eventually. She’s going to leave. But from the moment she said that she’d made a mistake in turning me down, my heart signed on. Bought a ticket on the fucking Titanic and climbed aboard.
Certain doom, but what a ride.
But we haven’t even left the dock. Is she pushing me away already?
I swallow and force myself to face whatever comes. “What do you want to happen now?”
Iris drops her hand, and she stares into me, searching. What’s she looking for? A way out? Hope?
I stare back, willing my fear to quiet. I’m falling for her, and she’s worth the fall. For however long it lasts before I hit the ground. I want to give her whatever she needs, whether that’s one night or an uncharted future.
“I-I’ve never done this before,” she stammers.
“Done what?”
Iris inhales and sighs out a breath. “Wow. This is embarrassing.” But instead of burying her face in my shoulder, she presses her forehead to my chest and hugs me. I hug her tighter and kiss the top of her head.
“No, Iris, don’t be embarrassed.” I squeeze her again. “You can say anything to me. What’s going on?”
She doesn’t move. Instead she speaks against my chest. “Ask me how many people I’ve dated.”
I frown. “How many people have you dated?”
She pops her head up and meets my gaze. “None.”
“Like long-term?” I ask, confused.
Her right brow climbs. “Like at all.”
I swallow, wanting to make sure I understand. “You’ve never had a boyfriend—or a girlfriend?”
“No. No boyfriend. No girlfriend.” She smiles. “I love that you asked, but I’m not bi.”
No boyfriend. I’m hit with so many questions. “But you’ve—You weren’t—” I unconsciously scan the length of her still-naked body, heart in my throat. “You weren’t a virgin, right?”
Good God, did I hurt her? I wasn’t careful. I should have—
“Oh, no.” She shakes her head briskly. “No, that V-card was lost long ago.”
Now I’m wondering who took it if it wasn’t a boyfriend. Was he an asshole? Did he hurt her?
“But—”
“I’ve had two one-time things.” Her words come out in a rush like she wants to say them and be done. “I’m not proud of that. And I seriously skipped over some developmental milestones by working all the time and doing high school online. So that means I…”
She frowns and locks eyes with mine, her own full of worry and doubt.
“I don’t know
how to… be with someone.... like that.”
I run a hand up her back and over her shoulder before gently kneading her muscles. “And that worries you?”
She nods frantically.
I grin. “You know, there isn’t a rule book,” I say, meaning to soothe her.
Her brows draw together. “I wish there were. I’m a fast reader.”
Laughter shakes from me. “People just make it up as they go along. I think that’s more fun.”
Her frown doesn’t ease. She stares at me for a long time, and I think she’s debating her next words.
“What?” I prod.
Her lips pinch together. “Do you think… Do you think it’s bad that I’ve never been in a relationship with the guys I’ve slept with.”
“No.”
An expression I can’t name—maybe it’s regret; maybe something else—passes over her face. When she speaks, her voice is soft and so fragile, I’m afraid it’ll break.
“After today, I think it is.”
Is she ashamed? God, she shouldn’t feel ashamed. “Iris, I’ve had one-night stands, too. It’s not a big deal.”
She shakes her head, but she’s wearing a pained smile. “That’s what I mean. Those other times weren’t a big deal, but this—”
She halts herself and draws her lips between her teeth like she’s said too much.
And it hits me, what she’s been driving at this whole time. I’m such an idiot.
Gently, I cup her chin, holding her gaze with mine. “This is nothing like those other times.”
Her eyelids flutter. “No.”
A slow smile conquers my lips. “Iris?”
“Yeah?”
Now I’m smiling full strength. “Would you be my girlfriend?”
A giggle escapes her. “Yes.” She giggles again. “Oh, wow.” She moves in and covers me with laughing kisses. “Oh. My. God. I have a boyfriend.”
Laughter sacks me, and I gather her in my arms, planting kisses on her mouth, her cheek, her neck. “Oh. My. God,” I mimic her. “I have a girlfriend.”
And just like that, she turns it into a meme.
“Oh. My. God. My boyfriend is naked.”
I crack up at her theatrical surprise. There’s no keeping up with Iris. No way I’m ever as funny as she is, but I have to try.
“Oh. My. God. My girlfriend is observant.”
“Oh—” She tries to keep going, but she’s laughing too hard, and it feels like a win.
Just being with her feels like a win.
And Oh. My. God. Iris Adams is my girlfriend.
With the help of the flashlight and our phones, we make a dinner of tuna salad lettuce wraps—Iris’ suggestion—and marinated olives. Iris and I split one of the ninety-nine percent cocoa chocolate bars for dessert.
It’s not my favorite meal ever, but the company beats anything.
A little after eight, Mica scratches at the back door, but when Iris opens it to reveal the tempest, he shies.
“Buddy, if you hurry, it won’t be too bad,” Iris encourages. Mica doesn’t budge.
But I don’t blame the dog one bit. The night is black and wild. Lightning strobes the sky, revealing shapes that must be smaller trees whipping like maniacs. Even though the back door opens onto a small covered patio, the rain blows in slanted sheets, misting our faces.
“I think I’ll have to go with him,” Iris says, moving into the doorway.
I grab her by the wrist. “Let me.” I gesture toward her mane of hair that fell out of its messy bun while we tangled on her couch. “Your hair is finally dry from this morning.”
Before she can protest, I whip off my T-shirt and undo my fly.
“What are you doing?!”
“I only have one more dry change of clothes. I’m not blowing through these yet.” I drop my shorts.
Iris’s face lights with amusement. That amusement turns to shock when I shuck my boxer briefs.
I grin at her. “Get me a towel, would ya? C’mon, Mica.” I grab the flashlight and step outside, rain hitting me even under the overhang. And fuck if it isn’t cold. “C’mon, dog.”
With stinging rain hitting my elbows, ass, and balls, my tone is less than patient, and the dog comes, tail tucked between his legs. I step to the edge of the patio, and Mica cowers at my calves.
“Fuck.” I shine my flashlight out into the yard proper and step into a grassy puddle. “Go do your business,” I bark, gesturing to the yard, and Mica scurries, braving the elements.
Even though the air temperature is at least eighty, now that I’m soaking wet, I start shivering. I wipe water out of my eyes and make out Mica lifting a leg on a bush. I sweep the yard with the beam of light. Leaf and twig debris is everywhere, and there are a few smaller branches here and there, but no trees down. A couple of Iris’s neighbors must have back-up generators because I spot small light sources at a few houses.
Another look at Mica shows me his squatting figure. Good. At least he should be all set until morning. Just when I think he should be wrapping it up, the dog lets out a yipe and tears for the house. Lightning splits the sky—blowing up the world in white—the next instant thunder explodes, rattling my every bone.
I’m under the patio. I don’t even remember moving, but my two feet are hauling my naked ass into the house.
“What the fuck?! What the fuck?! Are you okay?” Iris knocks the flashlight out of my hands, and it goes spinning across the floor, turning the kitchen into a dance club.
I slam the door behind me. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” But her hands are all over me, running down my arms and over my chest. Just not in the good way. She’s freaking out.
“Shit, that was close,” she chokes out. She reaches up and pats my head. “Your hair is sticking up.”
Yeah, it was close.
“I think it hit your neighbor’s tree,” I admit, letting her finish her examination. When she’s satisfied that I haven’t been electrocuted, she thrusts a towel in my hands and grabs another.
“You’re lucky,” she says, dropping down and covering Mica in a towel. “And you, too, buddy,” she coos to the dog. “Oh, you’re shaking all over, my poor boy. Oh, but you were so brave to go out in the storm. Yes, you were.”
I towel my chest and arms, watching Iris fawn over her dog who preens under the attention. As though he realizes the indignity of all this fussing, he gives a full-body shake, snuffs a sneeze, and darts out from under the offending towel.
Iris rises, wiping her hands. “Seriously, that scared the shit out of me.” She picks up the flashlight and sets it on the counter. “No more going out until this thing passes.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, scrubbing the towel over my face.
She steps closer, her voice softening. “Well, for a minute there, I was pretty worried,” she says, laying her fingertips on my chest. Her touch steals my breath. Against my chilled skin, each finger is a stamp of heat. “I mean, I don’t want to lose my boyfriend on the first day.”
I crack a smile and wrap the towel around my waist, hopefully concealing how one touch from her affects me. A lightning strike pales in comparison.
“I’m not going anywhere.” This couldn’t be more true. I won’t be the one to leave. That’ll be her. The blow bangs like a gong in my chest, but I just let the feeling wash over me. I’m not holding back. It’ll hurt like fuck when she leaves, but until then, I’m going to let myself love Iris Adams and regret nothing.
What else is there? No one gets a guarantee. There’s nothing to say that a bolt from the blue won’t hit me tomorrow. Or that my mind won’t start falling to pieces before I barely go gray.
I’m here now. Iris is here now. And I’m not wasting any time.
“I’m right where I want to be.” I grab Iris’s waist and lift her. She may not be a ballerina, but she’s as light as one. And even though she gives me a startled look, she doesn’t miss a beat, hitching her legs around my waist and gripping my shoulders. “Take the flashlight,” I tell her.
When she grabs it, I shift one hand to her ass and head for the hall.
Making love to Iris on her couch was mind-blowing, but it was also like a train car off the rails. Out of control. Desperate. Hurtling over the edge at break-neck speed.
What I want to give her now requires time and space. A bed and all night.
“You look like a man on a mission,” she teases.
I grin. “You could say that.”
I carry her into her room, and even in the sparse glow of the flashlight, the sight of her double bed humbles me. She has let me in. She trusts me. Knowing what I know of her—of her mother and her father and the cutthroat world she inhabits—trust shouldn’t be easy for her to give. And after what she’s said about her experience with guys, I don’t think it’s ever been easy.
So the fact that she’s giving her trust to me feels like she’s handing me the Holy Grail.
And as if my fingers were closing around a sacred vessel, I don’t take it lightly.
“I’m crazy about you.” Yeah, I’m taking the coward’s way out, telling her I love her without saying it point blank. But I’ve only been her boyfriend—her first boyfriend—for a handful of hours. I can’t lay this on her now. But I can let her know her trust hasn’t been misplaced. “I need to show you how much.”
“I might already know,” she says softly, “because I’m pretty crazy about you.”
I settle her upright on the bed and take the flashlight. “We should probably save the battery. That okay?”
Iris grins. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”
I click it off. Shadows swallow us, and the sounds of the storm only magnify.
“Jesus,” Iris gasps, groping for my shoulders. “I spoke too soon. That sounds terrible.”
“I’m right here.” I put a knee on the mattress and lean in. She sinks back, her hands threading into my hair, the breath leaving her.
“Lucky me.”
Two-Step Page 27
