by Emma Renshaw
I pull Iris closer to me, laying her head on my chest and kissing the top of her head. “Birdie, you were alone. Your entire world had just been ripped from you. You can’t blame yourself for wanting someone to look out for you.”
“If I had taken the time to actually get to know him instead of seeing the expensive suits, dinners that weren’t noodles in a cup, and the pretty presents, I might have saved myself. I didn’t though. He promised he’d take care of me, and two weeks after we met at the gala, I was his wife and went from living in an old trailer to a mansion.”
Iris lifts her head from my chest. Her jaw is set tight and firm. “If it had happened right away, it would’ve been easier. I would’ve left right away. It didn’t though.”
“What didn’t happen right away?”
I tense, knowing that it’s coming. Whatever happened, wherever this led to, I know that it’s about to come out of her beautiful mouth. “The first year was wonderful. I did fall in love with him. I did everything I could to keep him happy. I tried to be the perfect wife. The absolute perfect wife. I was so thankful for him. One day, my perfect wifedom slipped. I didn’t feel well, so I didn’t get his clothes from the dry cleaners. That’s when it happened. That’s when he hit me.”
That’s when he hit me.
Those words are like a sucker punch to my throat, knocking the air from my lungs and seizing it tight as I battle for just one more breath.
“Birdie,” I whisper. My forehead lands against hers. Her tears aren’t falling anymore. Her eyes are glazed over as if she’s lost in the memories.
“He apologized right after. It was a slap. One slap. That’s the way I justified it anyway. I looked around at my life, at this man I thought I loved, who seemed sorry, and wondered if I should throw it away for one slap. For one mistake.”
Iris swallows, clenching her jaw. “It wasn’t a mistake though. It wasn’t one slap. It kept happening. Again and again. He never took me to the hospital. He paid a private doctor to look after me when he’d beaten me so badly I was bedridden or unconscious. I tried to leave a few times. I tried to go to the cops, and somehow my reports always went missing. No matter who I spoke to.”
Jesus. My chest is tightening with each word she speaks and it’s getting harder to breathe, harder to sit here and not go looking for that asshole and annihilate him limb by fucking limb.
“I had to save myself. I started a bank account in my name, got a burner phone, and found ways to learn website design and coding online without him noticing. It took me two years to have enough money squirreled away to actually leave.”
“How did you leave?”
“Every time I left the house to go to the store or wherever, I’d take something with me—a T-shirt, a pair of shoes—and I would hide them in my car in a duffle bag. After a week or so, I had enough to get by for a little bit. I went to the store, parked my car, got out my duffle bag, and walked away. That’s when Carmen found me, brought me to her place, and helped me.”
Iris bites her bottom lip and sucks in a rattling breath. “I started filing for a divorce right away. Pierce fought it. He made promises and tried to drag me home over and over. I escaped each time he managed to steal me and bring me back to the house. Finally, we had to go in front of a judge, since Pierce kept contesting it, and the judge granted it. Pierce didn’t give up. He vowed I’d never be with another man.”
And now she is.
“A few months after the divorce, the harassment stopped. He left me alone. He’s been leaving me alone for about a year and half now. I thought it was over. And now, it’s not. He was just biding his time. He wanted me to feel safe so I could come back here and make it easier for him.”
Or got so pissed he saw you with another man, he’s upping his game. I don’t say my thoughts aloud. But I have a feeling he’s never stopped watching. He gave her space for whatever reason, but when she met me, it crossed a line.
“It’s not about me though. He took offense that I left him and embarrassed him. I was property, not a wife. I also know too many of his secrets. If I told anyone though, he wouldn’t only kill me, he’d kill everyone in my life.”
“What secrets?”
Iris’s chin quivers as she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip debating. “You can’t tell anyone,” she whispers.
“Okay,” I say.
“I mean it, Callan. If he thought you might know, he’d come after Brae and there would be no way to stop it.” Her hands fist in my shirt, pleading with me to understand the weight of what she’s about to tell me. “Promise me. Swear it.”
“I swear, Iris.” My voice is scratchy and suddenly I wish Brae was here with us so I could have both of them under one roof and making sure they’re both safe.
“He doesn’t exactly make all of his money through legal means. To be honest, I don’t know everything, I didn’t want to know. It scared me too much, but he deals in firearms. And, not just selling a gun or two on the streets. He ships hundreds of crates overseas.”
Mother fucker. I take a deep settling breath.
“I won’t let it get out,” I say. I mean it, too. It’s not something I’ll share when I call Maddox. I lived for years with men who would do anything to keep their crimes a secret. Brae and Iris’s safety is on the line and that information can’t get into the wrong hands. I brush my hand up the column of her neck, letting my thumb hover over her pulse point. “I’m proud of you for getting out. I’m so sorry it happened to you.”
Iris lifts her chin and nods. “Thank you.”
“I’ll never hurt you that way. You know that, right?”
“Yes.” She brings her hand up to my face and runs her thumb over my cheekbone. Now that she’s finished speaking, her eyes look tired and red rimmed.
I stand up with Iris in my arms. I walk to my bedroom and lay her on the bed before turning to my dresser and grabbing a shirt and a pair of sweatpants for her to wear. “You’re staying here until we know you’re safe.”
“I can’t do that, Callan.” She starts shuffling to get off the bed, but I stop her.
“Yes, you can. And you are. I’m keeping you safe. I can do that better if you’re in the same place as me.”
“I-I’m not ready for this,” Iris says, her eyes falling to her lap.
I cup her cheek and lift her face until her eyes meet mine again. “I’m sleeping on the couch. We take this as slow or as fast you want to.”
“Can I have a kiss goodnight?”
I lean in and touch my lips to hers for a quick kiss. Before I can pull away, her hand weaves into my hair, deepening the kiss and deepening my vow to protect her.
Chapter 21
Callan
I tighten my arm around Iris’s waist as I wake up, inhaling her sweet scent. She’s been staying with me for two weeks. Last night, we fell asleep talking in bed before I could get up to move to the couch. It’s the first time we’ve woken up in the same bed. I’ve taken up residence on the couch. Iris has only gone home to get clothes and more art supplies. My living room is overrun with paint-splattered canvases, Converse with painted designs, and just about anything else they can put paint on.
When I left my wallet on the counter, Brae even tried to paint that.
Iris’s pert ass is nestled against my hard dick. I suppress a groan and the desire to grind my hips against her ass. She isn’t ready for that yet. Her kisses have been setting me on fire for two weeks, but I’ve kept my hands on her waist, her back, and her face. And I’ve kept my dick in my pants.
Except in the shower when it’s in my hand and thoughts of her flood my mind.
I called Maddox after putting Iris in my bed two weeks ago. Her apartment hadn’t been broken into, and leaving a note on the door isn’t technically illegal. His hands were tied, and there wasn’t anything he could do, but if anything ever happens there’s a record of this.
I only left out Iris’s ex-husband’s past. I trust Maddox, but I don’t know the men he works with.
It’s been quiet for the last two weeks. No notes. Nothing.
I sat down with Brae when she came home the next day. I didn’t tell her everything, but I made sure she was more on guard than usual and told her that Iris would be staying with us for a bit.
She didn’t mind at all. She’s happy to have another girl in the house. She stayed at a friend’s house again last night. It’s just Iris and me this morning.
Iris stretches. I feel her body slowly wake up. Her ass presses against my dick and freezes. She slowly looks over her shoulder with wide eyes.
I chuckle. “Sorry, birdie. Can’t help it. I have the most beautiful girl in the world in my arms. Shit’s going to happen.”
Iris licks her lips and her eyes move down to my mouth. When her eyes meet mine again, they’re heated and her pupils are slowly dilating and a deep blush is rising up her neck and to her cheeks.
Iris turns until she’s facing me. Her hand falls to my naked chest and caresses my skin, moving up to my neck. She watches her hand’s movements before meeting my gaze again. My breathing picks up speed as if I’ve never been touched by a woman before, and she’s only touching my chest.
Christ.
I lean in to kiss her, but she pulls back, covering her mouth. “Morning breath,” she mumbles behind her hand.
“Don’t give a fuck,” I growl, tugging her hand from her face and kissing her. Her mouth opens for me with a gasp. I take the opportunity to plunge my tongue into her mouth. Her tongue slides against mine as we tangle with our control.
She moans, gripping my hair tighter and snuggling her body closer to mine. I roll her to her back, moving on top of her, holding myself up with my arms and keeping my weight off of her. I look down at her and take in every piece of her.
Long, dark hair is spread across my pillow. Her face is soft with full lips. She smells extra sweet this morning, and her hazel eyes have turned into a burning amber. I want to kick my own ass for not getting us to this point sooner. I can’t imagine that a man could’ve ever had a woman like Iris in his bed and harmed one single strand of hair on her head. I want to cherish and worship the woman beneath me and fight every single army if I could hear her laugh just once.
“Fuck. You’re gorgeous.”
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and a delicious pink spreads from her chest to her neck to her cheeks. I bring my head down, planting my lips just below her ear and skimming my tongue down her neck.
Iris’s legs part for me and my hips fall between them. I groan. I can feel the heat of her through my boxers and her sleep shorts. My hand falls to her leg. Her skin is silky smooth. I follow a smooth path all the way up to her hip, her waist, the side of her breast and, finally, her neck. My hand winds up behind her head, lifting it to mine as I take her lips again.
My heart is about to beat out of my chest just from kissing her and feeling the smooth skin of her leg. Iris rolls her hips, and I just about come out of my skin. I’ve only had her mouth, and I already crave everything about her.
She rolls her hips again, her heat hitting my cock. She moans when I meet her rolling hips with a thrust of my own.
Iris pushes against my chest. I sit back on my knees, trying to gather my breath. I took it too far and moved too fast for her. My chest is rising and falling rapidly. I run a hand through my hair.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry. Let’s slow down.”
“No.”
My eyes whip to hers. She’s sitting up, staring at me. The only time her eyes break contact with mine is when the shirt is ripped over her head. It takes every fucking ounce of willpower I possess to keep my eyes on hers and not sliding inches lower where I know she’s bared.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Her whispered words fill me with even more desire and urgency to feel every part of her. My eyes skim down her face, the long column of neck, and her chest and finally land on her full, perky tits.
“Christ. You’re perfect.”
Her tits are high on her chest, the perfect size for my palm. Rosy nipples harden beneath my hungry stare. I lick my lips and prowl toward her on the bed.
I kiss her again. My thumbs run over her nipples. Her back arches toward me, one of my hands moves to her back, and I lay her down again. My lips work their way down her body to her nipple. I suck. Hard. Grazing my teeth over the point. Her hands clutch my shoulders and she moans my name.
My name spilling from her lips in a husky, lust-induced whisper makes me want to pound on my chest like King fucking Kong.
I move to one breast, licking around her nipple, and cup her other breast, twisting the nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
Iris grinds her hips against me, whimpering.
“Need more, birdie?”
“Yes.” I lift my head and watch her heaving chest as she pants her answer.
I lower my mouth to her breast, tickling her skin with my fingers. My mouth traces a path from her waist and hips, down her flat stomach, and inside her shorts.
I brush the pad of my finger over her slit through her panties. Her fingers dig into my back. I sit back, ripping her shorts and underwear off. She’s lying in front of me completely naked, and I’ve never seen a sight so beautiful.
I’ve never been treated to something so mesmerizing.
Her eyes pop open. She tries to close her parted legs, and her arms fall to her breasts, covering herself. I keep her legs open and remove her arms.
“Never hide from me. Never.”
She nods, and her hand touches my chest, slides down my abs, and goes to the waistband of my boxers. I grab her wrist and shake my head. “This is just for you.”
Before she can answer, I lean down, kissing her again. Kissing her and tasting her, our tongues dueling and her hips grinding against me to seek friction.
I kiss my way down her body, using my shoulders to spread her thighs even more. My finger runs along her slit. I coat my finger in her wetness and rub against her clit. She bucks at the first touch.
I lower my head, sucking her clit into my mouth and rolling my tongue against it. One finger sinks inside her as I continue to lick and suck. My fingers and tongue work her until she’s at the edge. My eyes are glued to her face, watching her as I taste her sweetness.
My dick has never been as hard as it is right now, and she hasn’t even touched me. Watching her get off is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Her back arches and her hand comes to my head, fisting my hair. I growl as I fuck her with my tongue while she tugs on my hair.
Her eyes open, finding me between her legs. They stay locked on me as her mouth falls open and she moans my name through her orgasm. I slow my ministrations and work through every quake, taking one final taste before I crawl up her body and kiss her.
Her breaths are still heavy as she reaches for the band of my boxers again, but I shake my head. “Just for you, birdie.”
Her cheeks turn even pinker. I roll us to our sides, bringing her flush against my body, and I memorize the feel of her tits against my chest, her silky legs tangled with mine, and the way our breaths are timed perfectly with each other.
“Your cooking has really gotten better, James,” Brae says.
James lifts his eyebrow and mock-glares at her before shoving a bite of food into his mouth. James and I used to try to cook for Brae, but mostly it was disaster after disaster.
“Can you make a cake that’s straight now?” Brae asks while chuckling.
“Still tasted good,” James mutters.
Tate smiles and bumps her shoulder with Brae. “I don’t think I’ve heard this story.”
Since Tate found out about James’s past and met Brae and me, she’s been hounding us for stories of the big guy. Every bit that she can soak up about him, she does. She’s the reason I forgave James and now I’m glad that he has her in his life. He deserves someone as good as her.
“It was my birthday and these guys decided to get fancy and bake me a triple-layered cake. It was so uneven, completely uncooked
in the middle, but one layer was burnt. The frosting was sliding off because it was tilted so far to the side. Still one of my favorite birthdays though,” Brae finishes on a whisper. I couldn’t always give her something she wanted, but I tried with everything I had to give her something. The table erupts in laughter. I grab Iris’s hand and squeeze it.
An hour later, Iris and Tate are laughing on James’s back deck. They’re curled under blankets in rocking chairs with glasses of wine. Iris, Brae, and I had dinner with James, Tate, and Corbin. Corbin and Brae are watching TV in James’s living room. James wandered off to do something. I’m sitting in his kitchen, watching the women through the window.
Iris throws her head back laughing. Her long neck arches, reminding me of this morning. My cock starts to harden behind my zipper, but my fantasies are interrupted by my phone.
It’s an unknown Chicago number.
Anger boils in my gut. I’m done with this shit. I accept the call instead of ignoring like I have been doing.
“What the fuck do you want?” I answer with a hiss, keeping my voice low. Iris and Tate don’t look toward me. I look over my shoulder. Brae is watching TV, and Corbin is watching Brae.
“It’s been a while. How’re those holes?”
Fuckin’ dick. Luca Mancini, son of the mafia boss.
“Closed up.” The two bullets he drilled into me didn’t cause any lasting damage, except for some scarring. “What the fuck do you want?” I repeat, keeping my tone low. “I’m fuckin’ out. Daddy know you’re calling me?”
“Father can choke on his own dick. This isn’t family related.”
I lick my lips, listening against my better judgment. If Luca isn’t calling me about the mafia, then why the fuck is he calling me? To catch up? Fuck that.
“So I repeat, again, why the fuck are you calling me?”
“You could have some manners. Ask how I am.” Luca’s tone is amused and casual, like we really are just two friends catching up on life. We’ve never been friends. Luca saw James and I on a street corner and knew we were both desperate. He took advantage, took us under his wing, and gave us more than any either of us could’ve gotten at any other job we would’ve been qualified for.