Iris doesn’t knowwhat’s “real” when it comes to me?
How’s every inch of my dick feel, for fucking real? Is the hardness of my dick for her honest enough?
I’m fucking her with her thighs resting on my shoulders. And I’m not doing it gently. Which is why the room is now filled nothing but primal, animalistic sounds. Iris moaning. Me grunting. Our flesh slapping together with abandon. I’m determined to fuck this woman so outrageously well, she won’t want to fuck anyone else after we part ways tomorrow. Yes, my brain understands the timing isn’t right for Iris and me, but that hasn’t stopped my body from raging at the thought of anyone else doing this to her. Not to mention, at the accusations she hurled at me at dinner. What the fuck?
Okay, yes, I can understand how it looks to her like I’ve lied. Like I’ve totally fucked up. I get that. But now, as my parting gift, I’m determined to give Iris the best night yet—one she’ll never forget. One she’ll hopefully look back on with regret once she realizes she’ll never get fucked this good again, thanks to her decision to turn me the fuck down. Not technically, I suppose. The conversation was all hypothetical. But her words felt like a stark, acute rejection to me all the same. “Zero,” Iris said at dinner. She’s gotzerodesire to date me, after we leave here, huh?
And to think I stupidly thought Iris would be overjoyed to find out about Maverick! Given how much she loves kids, I foolishly thought my revelation, once made, would make her like me more, not less. So much more. Hell, I actually thought she’d findout about my son and beg to visit me in LA! When I let the fact of Maverick’s existence slip out, I actually thought,Oh, shit, Roman, now Iris is gonna beg to keep on seeing you, and how are you gonna find the strength to turn her down?Ha! I was a fucking fool.
“I’m close,” Iris grits out as I continue pounding her. “Oh my God.”
She’s already had three orgasms since we got back from the restaurant, but she’s done that before, so I’m determined to surpass that number tonight. Which is why I’m fucking her without mercy. With everything I’ve got. Even when Iris lets out a desperate wail of ecstasy that sends goosebumps skating across my slick skin, I stay the course and continue fucking her like my life depends on it.
“Roman,” Iris gasps out. “Oh, God.Roman.”
My name bursting from Iris’s lips, dripping with such ragged desperation, is almost too much for me to bear. But somehow, I hang on, if only by the barest of threads. Until finally, after what feels like an eternity, Iris violently arches her back, digs her nails deliciously into my forearms, and releases a primal shriek of rapture that’s so maniacal and tortured, I’m momentarily worried I’ve been too rough with her.
“Baby?” I blurt anxiously, gasping for air. “Did I hurt you?”
I’ve no sooner gotten the question out than Iris’s innermost muscles begin squeezing my cock with such force, I’m hurtled into my own blissful release right along with her. Warm fluid squirts out of Iris and all over me, as I’m coming inside her, as she rides her own pleasure.Good luck finding someone else to fuck you like this, Iris Benedetto.
As I crumple over her body, quaking and gasping for air, Iris’s name hurtles from my mouth. “Iris.” And as soon as the syllables leave my lips, I’m deathly afraid I’ve got it backward: thatI’mtheone who’s not going to be able to find someone else who’ll fuck me the glorious wayIrisdoes.
When my body goes quiet, I lift my swirling head and gaze into her gorgeous face. She’s tear-streaked and sweaty. Exhausted, for sure, but also quite obviously in a state of abject euphoria.
After taking a long, steadying inhale, I slide her legs off my shoulders, feeling unexpectedly emotional. “I’m gonna miss you,” I confess, my voice strained.
“I’ll never forget you,” she whispers back.
I pepper her face with soft kisses, feeling like my heart is bleeding out, wishing she’d beg to come with me tomorrow, even though I wouldn’t be able to say yes—and Iris holds on to me like she’s holding on for dear life.
I’m probably an asshole for trying to ruin this poor woman for sex with anyone else when I know I can’t make time for her in my life. But I couldn’t help myself. I spent all week romancing this woman, trying to help heal her, trying to make her smile and come every which way, and what did I get for my efforts? “I wouldn’t date you, Roman, not even if you begged me.”
My phone on the nightstand buzzes with a call, but I ignore it. Now that Coach is locked in and the Thunderbolts and I have reached verbal terms, I’m not going to waste a single minute of the time I’ve got left with Iris. Even if she hates me now.
A couple seconds later, however, when Iris’s phone on herside of the bed buzzes, followed by mine pinging a second time, curiosity gets the better of me. As Iris reaches for her phone, I do the same.
Shit. Cameron’s the one trying to get ahold of me.
And it’s not good news.
Cameron:Heads up. Some asshole teenager posted a photo of you and Iris at a restaurant tonight, and now, the internet is going apeshit with speculation about Roman “Ribbed for HerPleasure” Maguire being the Horny Runaway Bride’s railer and insides scrambler of choice.
Chapter 25
Roman
After my shower,I throw on the clothes I laid out for today’s travel day and pack up my toiletries. I do a final check of the bedroom and bathroom and then head into the living room with my luggage, ready to say my final goodbye to Iris. When I enter the room, however, Iris is sitting on the couch with her phone to her ear and a look of anguish on her face.
“It wasn’t a sex tape, Roberta,” Iris says. “It was a photo of me on a date at an upscale restaurant.”
Shit.
So far, that photo of Iris and me on the internet hasn’t hurt me at all. In fact, despite Cameron’s initial paranoia about Iris pulling me into her shit tornado, it seems the world has nothing but eye rolls for me at worst and bro-ish admiration at best when it comes to the possibility of me giving Iris what she said she wanted in that video. Since college, I’ve had a bit of a reputation as a ladies’ man, so this new brick in the wall has only enhanced my image, I’d say, rather than tarnishing it. But after hearing only a few words of Iris’s phone call, I’ve got a feeling Iris isn’t getting quite the same treatment.
“Please,” Iris pleads, wiping her eyes. “A few vocal parents shouldn’t be allowed to—Yes, I know. But—” She takes a deep breath. “I’m flying back to Denver tomorrow. Let’s please meet first thing Monday morning to talk about this face-to-face.” Iris rubs her forehead while the person on the other end of the call speaks. After a while, Iris replies, “I understand, Roberta. I couldn’t disagree more, but I understand your logic. Please, tellanyone who asks about me ...” She chokes up. “That I really loved working there and never wanted to leave.”
Oh, fuck.
