“Thank you for saying yes to coming,” Roman replies. He slides his hand in mine, prompting me to look at him, and when our gazes meet, Roman flashes me a smile that’s so panty-melting, I reflexively hurtle myself at him. We kiss for a long time, as birds chirp and flowers bloom and the waterfall thunders around us. As our passion ignites, and our lips and tongues devour, we run our hands over each other’s cheeks and hair, like we can’t get enough. But unlike earlier at the trailhead, Roman doesn’t take things further than first base this time, which somehow makes the moment feel that much sweeter and more romantic.
After we break apart, we find a comfortable spot on a rock, where we enjoy the view, chat, and dig into our snacks and sports drinks. Mostly, though, we savor our stunning surroundings in comfortable silence.
After being left to my own thoughts for a few minutes, I’m suddenly struck with an epiphany about myself:I’m a people pleaser to a fault.I’ve always known I’m accommodating and compromising by nature. I prefer avoiding conflict, if possible. But suddenly, I can plainly see how much my natural tendencies have gotten out of control over the past several years. Ever since the shocking loss of my mother, I’ve taken a back seat in my own life. In terms of my relationship with Brandon, I slowly became a doormat. More intent on keeping the peace and not making waves than being happy myself. Why did I ignore so many red flags?
“What are you thinking?” Roman asks.
“Hmm?”
“You look like you’re thinking deep thoughts over there.”
“I am,” I admit. “I just realized something. No,decidedsomething.” As Roman looks at me expectantly, like he’s hanging on my every word, I take a deep breath and speak on my exhale. “From this moment on, I’m going to do what I want and not worry about what anyone else thinks about it.”
“Atta girl. Good for you.”
“As long as I’m being true to myself, that’s all that matters.”
“Love to hear it. Absolutely.” He runs a fingertip down my forearm and smiles. “Go, Iris, go. Earn that blooming-flower name of yours to the fullest.”
My heart stops. My mother always said she named me Iris in the hospital, instead of the name she’d initially planned, because she took one look at me and thought,You’re prettier than the prettiest flower.
Roman takes my hand. “You can be anyone you want to be, Iris. Always remember, this is your life and nobody else’s, okay?”
I nod, stuffing down tears. “Thank you so much for taking me here.”
“Trust me, the pleasure has been mine.”
I scoot toward him on the smooth boulder and press my lips against his bare, broad shoulder. “I’ll never forget this day with you, Roman. Thank you.” It’s a true statement. But if I were feeling comfortable enough not to hold back at all, I’d probably have said it differently:I’ll never forgetyou, Roman.Considering the temporary nature of this fling, though, and the way I’ve already overshared and said far too many stupid things, I think the incomplete truth I’ve admitted out loud is good enough.
I’m not going to date for a long while, once I get back to Denver. I’ll take time to work on myself and become the blooming flower my name implies. But after this unforgettable day with Roman, I’m thrilled to realize I feelcapableof loving someone again. One day. In the distant future. And that in itself, considering where I started out the day emotionally, feels like nothing short of a miracle.
Chapter 17
Roman
The evening airis thick with humidity, floral fragrances, and the scent of my own wanton lust. I can’t remember a time when I wanted a woman this badly.I’m fucking feral.
I open the car door for Iris, and the moment she’s standing, I pull her into a passionate kiss. Instantly, a forest fire ignites between us. With my mouth still on hers, I pull Iris up by her ass, kick the car door shut, and make my way toward the bungalow with the hottest woman alive in my arms and my mouth devouring hers.
I stagger inside with Iris wrapped around me like a baby monkey, too turned on to make it all the way into the bedroom in the back. With my heart pounding, I lay Iris down on the couch, peel down her shorts and panties, and slide my hand desperately between her legs to get a read on her. She’s already soaking wet and swollen for me—as ripe as a summer peach.
I don’t normally jump straight to fucking. Almost always, I prefer getting my partner off first as an appetizer. But today with Iris has felt like one long, mouthwatering appetizer—a sexy slow burn of foreplay that’s kept my blood at an endless simmer and my skin perpetually buzzing.
Panting with desire, I massage Iris’s hard, swollen clit around and around, and then slide my fingers in and out of her slick wetness, getting her beyond ready for my aching cock. When I can’t wait a second longer, when my blood feels on the verge of a rolling boil, I rip off the rest of Iris’s clothes and mine, get myself wrapped up tight, bend Iris over the back of the couch, and sink myself inside her from behind.
As my body stretches and fills hers, Iris lets out a sexy growl that’s nearly as loud as my own. With one hand buried in her sandy hair and the other gripping her hip bone, I fuck Iris hard, until she’s making inhuman sounds and I’m dizzy and gasping for air.
As our passion intensifies even more, I grope her neck, breasts, and nipples with one hand while rhythmically stimulating her clit with the other. And the result on Iris is so plain to surmise, I’m already on the cusp of losing it.
“He’s an idiot,” I grit out, trying desperately to hang on. “If you were mine, I’d fuck you so often, I wouldn’t have time to even think about cheating on you.”What am I saying?It’s nothing but dirty talk. The unthinking nonsense that hurtles out of a man’s mouth in the heat of the moment. But damn, that’s the first time that specific brand of unthinking nonsense has hurtled out of me. I need to get a grip on myself.
Or do I? Because in response to the crazy thing I said, Iris growls with ferocious intensity and releases an orgasm around my cock that rockets me into my own release on her heels. With a deep groan, I crumple over her back, gasping for air, as her innermost muscles ripple, warp, and squeeze all around me.
Jesus.
After catching my breath, I straighten up, pull out, and turn Iris around to face me. Rather than speaking, however, I take her face in my palms and kiss her once again. I feel addicted to this woman. I feel high. What’s happening to me?
Before I manage to speak, my phone on the floor rings with an incoming call. I’ve got my phone set to Do Not Disturb other than for calls from Cameron, my mother, and Maverick’s mother, Vanessa—so that call’s got to be from one of the three. Still breathing hard, I lurch toward the phone and make out Cameron’s name as I pick it up; but with Iris here, I let the call go to voicemail.
