“Okay. You do that.”
We were having a stand-off, clearly.
My eyes slipped back to them. “How sore are they?”
“Tender. Heavy. You’d need to be gentle with them.”
I nodded. “I can be gentle with my fingers and my mouth. Just little touches, you know. Nothing rough.”
Her expression stayed stoic.
I glanced down at her underwear. They were champagne in colour, apart from between her legs, where it was darker.
Fully aware I had a notable erection, I looked her up and down, lingering on her pussy and tits, the slight curve of her belly cooking something inside me that I hadn’t felt before.
“You might need to give yourself some more relief. You look needy.” I pointed between her legs.
She glanced down and then looked at me. “I’ll appreciate the water pressure while I’m in the shower then.” Her wink nearly broke me.
It was fun and infuriating in equal measures for the rest of the day. We made as many excuses as possible to be physically close to each other, body parts being brushed, a lot of skin onshow and a distinct lack of a bra on Iris’ part. I spent the day with a constant semi, which became painful in parts I wasn’t sure had previously existed. The banter that’d been there before Iris’ request returned, turning into banter with an undertone of flirting.
Teasing.
Jesting.
Briefaccidentaltouches while we were both in the kitchen area, Iris seemingly coming up with any excuse to touch my ass or my abs, my hands often on her hips or her shoulders, a whisper into her ear so it tickled the side of her neck – tension was built like a tower of cards, and it would only take one deliberate kiss to have it toppling down and setting our worlds on fire.
“All you have to do is ask and I’ll help you have an orgasm,” I said, as she looked at the photos of us for the eleventeen hundredth time. I wasn’t sure if she was looking at them for a reason, or she was trying to torture me.
Or both.
Probably both.
“I imagine your hand’s suffering from repetitive strain injury by now. I know what it’s like to live with me – sheer torture.”
She looked up from her laptop. “You are rather full of yourself, aren’t you?”
I gave her my best blue steel gaze. “I can’t help looking like this.” I gestured down my torso, which was bare. I’d turned the heating up to make it bearable as it really wasn’t warm outside.
Iris sat up straighter and assessed me with eyes that weren’t full of lust, which was disappointing.
“Do you have a spare hour?”
I frowned. “To give you orgasms?”
She laughed and shook her head. “No – to take some photos of you.”
The frown stayed etched on my face, possibly permanently indenting lines on my forehead. “With or without clothes?”
“Without. Humour me.” She put her laptop down on the sofa next to her and stood up. “Between you and me, Zoey wants me to do a boudoir shoot with her, which I haven’t done for ages. I need to use a house as I’ve said I’ll sort the venue because the flat above the Puffin Inn isn’t appropriate, so I was going to ask if I could use here.”
“Of course. I’ll go and work at the inn for the day so you have privacy here. Back to excuses to see me with no clothes.” I gave her a grin, but it wasn’t as full on as before.
Iris nodded, stretching, which did nothing to help the continued state of arousal I was still in, her white vest stretching over her tits, her nipples almost obvious.
“I want to test the lighting.” Her smile bloomed. “And see you naked. Not going to lie.”
I nodded, feeling slightly nervous about it. “You know I’m going to be hard while you’re doing this.”
