“That’s a really…”
“Oh…”
“Really…”
“Oliver!”
“Good…question.”
“Oh. My. God!”
“And I think you know the fucking answer.”
A keening cry rips from her throat as she lets go.
I love how noisy Iris is. The way she claws at me. Writhes under me.
“That’s it, baby. Oh shit, I’m coming.”
My release barrels through me, and I have to plant both forearms on the table, around Iris’s shoulders to keep me from collapsing on top of her.
For a second, everything goes fuzzy. All the pain and frustration and ache pour out of me, replaced by pure bliss. A pure, unbreakable connection between Iris and me.
And then, peace.
So much peace and a sense of intense well-being like I’ve never felt before.
“Oliver?” Iris’s delicate fingers stroke through the short hair on the back of my neck. Comforting. Sweet.
“I’m still here…kind of,” I say with a laugh.
The fuzziness dissipates, and I can now see straight, but the feeling of happiness still pulses through every cell in my body.
Iris has been flat on her back long enough. Carefully, I take her hand and help her to stand. She leans against me with a laugh.
“I’m a little wobbly, I think.”
“Take a breath,” I say gently, smoothing her hair down.
She sighs. “I must look like a wreck.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth.”
I tip her chin up and kiss her mouth one more time. “You’re beautiful.”
She blinks up at me. “We’re naked, Oliver.”
“That tends to happen.”
We laugh as I clumsily put my jeans back on. I don’t bother with the shirt, slinging it over my arm.
Iris throws her shirt on, which is an oversized one reaching mid-thigh.
“I’d better go shower and have a bite to eat, then get some sleep. Big day tomorrow,” she says. That shy awkwardness has returned.
“A dress fitting?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m helping my friend Skylar with her booth tomorrow. She’s trying to open a bookstore, so she’s doing a pop-up thing at the festival to spread the word.”
