“Want to see?” Iris put her laptop down on the kitchen island and sat down at it. Her hair was clipped up, tendrils escaping and she was make-up free. Every time I saw her I thought again that she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
I left my seat to stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her and kissing the side of her head. “I’ve wanted to see them since you took them. I wasn't sure if you were pretending they didn’t happen.”
She shook her head. “I felt shy showing you them. I’ve done some editing on one or two – the ones we can show others at some point.”
“Not now?”
She tipped her head to look at me. “If anyone sees these, they’ll have questions.”
I had questions too.
I looked at the first few photos that were documenting me stripping Iris of her top, her eyes on mine, her smile for me. They told a story, mine being completely obvious. Even I could read my thoughts, the lens capturing my expression, my darkened eyes, lust-filled.
Love-filled.
She paused on a photo where I was undoing the front-fastener of her bra, my eyes locked onto the camera, my handcovering her breasts. Her cheeks were pink, her hands on my arms, one of her arms stretched up.
I knew I was photogenic, the camera liked me and I’d always enjoyed posing for it, something that’d brought endless amusement to Finn and Roe. Iris could’ve made a career from being in front of the camera rather than behind it, so the photos looked like something from a planned shoot already. But there was more to them, something a planned shoot would never have been able to give, and that was the chemistry between us.
My breath hitched when I saw the first photo with us both topless, Iris’ tits full and on display.
“No one else gets to see this.” My words came out too harshly.
She turned her head and looked at me. “Why? It’s a gorgeous picture.”
“Because I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this apart from me.” My eyes flicked from her to the screen.
“How about this one?” She forwarded quickly through a few photos, the sight of them making my pants feel tighter in the groin area.
My hands moved to just below her breasts, my thumbs brushing the underside of them through her T-shirt, remembering how they felt in my hands.
The photo she stopped on was perfect. One of my hands cupped her opposite breast, my arm covering most of the other. My other hand was resting on her stomach. Iris was looking up at me and I was looking at her.
“That’s pretty nice.” For a writer, I was remarkably shit with words sometimes.
“I think we should get it printed. Frame it and put it up. You can’t actually see anything and it’s a gorgeous picture.” She wriggled out of my arms and stood up from the stool. “And I think we should have that one printed too.” She forwarded through a few more photos, landing on one which was side on,my hand obviously holding her breast, her stomach showing an ever-so-slight curve that wasn’t yet noticeable. The photo hinted at sex, at a sultry moment, leaving the viewer wondering what happened next.
“No one but you and I can see that.” My words came out firmer than I’d intended.
Iris looked up at me and shook her head. “Possessive much?”
I’d never been called that before. “I’m not possessive.”
Her smile grew slowly, her hand on my chest. “But no one else can see my boobs but you?”
“Correct.” I was aware I was contradicting myself.
“That’s being possessive. Do you want to pull the ‘while you’re carrying my baby’ card?”
Thankfully she looked amused instead of annoyed.
“No.” My hands went to her waist. I was wrong footed. I needed to correct this and find some control in the situation. “But I think you like me being possessive.” It was almost a shot in the dark. Iris was a free-spirit, she’d always done her own thing; I wasn’t sure how much she’d like being requested to do something.
“Maybe I do. Sometimes.” Her eyes were heavy with something. “I’m not used to it though.”
My heart was setting a record pace for number of beats per minute when I was only standing.
“I don’t want anyone but me seeing you like that.”
