He palmed her butt, squeezing and rocking against her, loving the sounds coming from the back of her throat while he devoured her mouth. Iris arched her body, her nipples swollen against his bare chest. He knew he’d be a goner at any minute. Her breaths came in short spurts and her hands moved more frantically on his back as she flowed with the rhythm he’d started, her moves threatening to take him over the edge.
“Nash,” she whimpered.
To hell with it. He needed to feel all of her. Without breaking contact, he went for her belt buckle, anxiously loosening it. She cried his name more breathlessly and he sensed she was nearing her release. He let go of her belt and increased his pace, wishing he were inside her rather than bumping and grinding like two teenagers. But hell, he was barely hanging on and couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.
Iris tore her lips from his. “Nash!” she cried out, her eyes shut tight and her head thrashing back and forth while her nails clawed into his bare shoulders. A strangled scream swooshed through her lips. He silenced her, covering her mouth roughly with his as waves of ecstasy roared through him. Her body shook and trembled, hammering against him. Within seconds, a low growl tore from his throat, and his body convulsed and jerked viciously as his own release rocked him to the core.
Nash fought to get control, his heartbeat pounding double-time. Panting, he wrapped his arm around Iris’s waist, placing his other arm against the wall, holding them both up. This...whatever the hell they had just done...was the most intense experience he’d had in a long time. Too tired to speak, he just held her, loving how good she felt in his arms.
Still trying to catch his breath, he placed a light kiss alongside Iris’s temple. Her head lay against his bare chest and her hands heavily gripped his back belt loops. He knew what it meant to be weak in the knees. Right now, he could barely stand and it didn’t help that his damp briefs were plastered against him. If he didn’t think it would freak Iris out, he would laugh. Though he wasn’t a stranger to living his life on the edge, this was definitely a first.
He glanced down at Iris. She had surprised the hell out of him. Never in a million years would he have expected this amount of passion from her, which made him want her that much more.
And hot damn...she’s a screamer.
Chapter 7
Iris had collapsed against Nash’s sweaty chest, not believing what they had just done. In all of her thirty-four years, she would have never thought she was capable of something so lasciviously erotic. And in a public gym, no less. Oh, my God, what was I thinking? A shiver skittered down the length of her body when her mind wandered to the memory of her orgasm. Her release, both exhilarating and mind-numbing, was so over the top she thought her heart would jump out of her chest. Okay, so I wasn’t thinking...I was feeling.
She snuggled closer, her arms wrapped around his narrow waist, not caring that they both were a sweaty, wet mess. They’d been standing in the same spot for the past few minutes, while aftershocks were still fluttering within her and her mind was still trying to comprehend how they ended up in each other’s arms. “Don’t think, just be,” Janna often said. Iris sighed with pleasant exhaustion. The wildest part in all of this was that she felt no shame.
A door to the gym opened and then closed, but for the life of her she was unable to move. It wasn’t because Nash had her pinned to the wall. It was because she didn’t want to move.
Iris startled when someone behind them cleared their throat. Nash didn’t move, except to place a kiss against her temple as if he could care less about who had intruded on their intimate moment.
Iris lifted her head and glanced over Nash’s shoulder. Oh, great. Stacey.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I didn’t want to leave before saying goodbye to Nash.”
Iris leaned back from Nash without removing her arms from around his waist. He met her gaze. “Is she serious?” he mumbled, his voice huskier than usual.
Iris almost burst out laughing at the face he made, but she held herself in check and nodded. With Nash as her cover, she hurried and stuffed her shirt into her pants and fastened her belt.
Without moving one hand from the wall or the other that held her in place, Nash looked over his shoulder. “Goodbye, Stacey.”
Not to be ignored, Stacey said, “I see you’re a little busy, Nash, but I was wondering if maybe you would like to go out sometime?”
Iris’s mouth dropped open and her heart pounded hard against her rib cage. Here Nash was, half-dressed and with her pinned against the wall, yet Little Miss Redhead had the nerve to ask him out? Who the heck did that? The more Iris thought about it, the more indignant she became. It was going to take a few line-backers to keep her from tackling Stacey.
Iris attempted to step around Nash to handle this woman once and for all, but he tightened his grip around her waist, cementing her in place.
“Relax,” he whispered against her lips. Without taking his eyes from Iris, he said, “No, thanks, Stacey. All of my free time will be consumed by Iris.”
* * *
The next morning, Iris stared off into space, her spoon clanking against the inside of her cereal bowl. Her second week of “vacation” was off to a good start thanks to Nash. Their date the night before was one she wouldn’t forget. She couldn’t ever remember enjoying herself so much with a man. Showing him around the center, playing basketball in the new gym and... Heat spread through her body at the thought of what they had done in the gym...against the wall. Her explosive orgasm spoke volumes of Nash’s ability to turn her on and take her to a point of no return. Even now, just thinking about his hands on her body, his lips against her lips, and the way he...
“You might want to get another bowl of cereal. I don’t think coffee and cereal go that well together,” Iris heard Tania say.
Iris glanced up, surprised to find Janna and Tania standing in the kitchen. “Hey,” she said, and then gasped when she looked down at her bowl of cereal. “Oh, my God, what is wrong with me?” Her cereal swam in coffee instead of milk.
“You must have had a helluva night, sis,” Janna teased, laughing as she strolled over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water.
Iris narrowed her eyes at her sister, daring her to continue.
“Sooo, you came in kind of late. Did you get your...” She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Cover your ears, Tania. Better yet, go to your room.”
“Why?” Tania frowned.
“Go!”
“Aw, come on, Janna. It’s not like I don’t know what Iris and Uncle Nash did last night.”
“Girrrl!” Janna chuckled and Tania giggled as she bolted out of the room with Janna chasing behind her.
Horrified, Iris covered her face with her hands. Tania had known that she and Nash met at the community center to work on the bookcases, but Iris wondered what else Tania thought she knew.
Janna hurried back into the kitchen and sat on the barstool next to Iris. “You got some, didn’t you?” she whispered conspiratorially. “I want to know everything. Well, maybe not everything, but I want some details. And don’t try to deny it because I saw that lovesick puppy-dog look in your eyes. As if the coffee in your cereal wasn’t enough.”
Iris covered her face with her hands and groaned. Could people really tell just by looking at her what she had done and how she felt?
“I need some water,” she mumbled and shot out of her seat. With shaky hands, she grabbed a glass from the cabinet and knocked over a couple cups that tumbled out.
Janna almost fell off the stool while laughing. “Dang, girl, was he that good? He’s got you in here blushing, you’re flustered and you’ve screwed up your breakfast.”
“Stop... It wasn’t like that.” Iris poured a glass of water, careful not to cause any other catastrophes, and reclaimed her seat. She took a sip of the ice-cold liquid and sighed. “
We hung out at the community center for a few hours and then we went out to eat.”
“And then?”
“And then I came home and went to bed...alone.” Technically, she had been alone, but in her dreams, Nash was sharing her bed and doing unthinkable things to her body. Her cheeks burned. Lying beside her, he had stared down at her naked form, his hazel eyes burning a path from her kiss-swollen lips down to the tips of her manicured toes. She had shuddered when his desire-laden gaze ignited her blood, and her body heated without even being touched. How was it possible that a simple look―in a dream, no less—could have her dangling on the edge of control?
In her mind, he had lowered his mouth over hers and hungrily devoured her lips, his tongue stroking hers until a groan rose from her throat. His hand was skimming over her breasts, tweaking and fondling the hardened buds before settling over her stomach. Instinctively, her body had arched against his cool hand when he had slid it down to the opening between her thighs, his fingers teasing the wisp of hair covering her mound. Her heart thundered and she moaned against his mouth, as her legs opened wider for his fingers to explore.
“Nash,” she whispered.
“Iris,” her sister called out several times, then slapped her hand against the countertop. “Iris!”
Iris jumped. “What?”
Janna studied her with a critical squint. Iris tried to ignore her unwavering gaze, especially since she wasn’t sure if she had actually called Nash’s name out loud. What she really wanted to do was tell her sister everything, every tongue-tangling, toe-curling, bumping-and-grinding thing that happened yesterday. Instead, she lifted her glass to her lips and gulped down her water.
“Well, you and Nash did something. Though you’re acting weird this morning, you actually look rested...and you’re damn near glowing.” Janna eased off the barstool and grabbed her large handbag from a nearby chair. She headed out of the kitchen, but stopped short and glanced over her shoulder. “Whatever he did to you, or for you, tell him that I said to do it again.”
* * *
A sweet, soulful melody flowed through Nash’s lips while he pulled his saxophone case from the trunk of his car and whistled as he sauntered into Platinum Pieces–Midtown. He knew the house band would be rehearsing later and decided to do a few numbers with them before their set tonight.
Nash entered his office and was surprised to find Nigel sitting behind his desk, talking on his cell phone.
“It sounds like someone’s happy,” his friend said when he hung up. “You’re whistling and you have your sax case. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you so...so, oh, I don’t know, happy. What happened? Did you hit the lottery or something?”
A vision of Iris flowed to the forefront of his mind. “Almost.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed being with a woman as much as he liked hanging out with Iris. And though he had mixed feelings about the incident in the gym, they were combustible together, even with their clothes on. He had no doubt their lovemaking would be just as explosive if they ever hit the sheets.
Nash sat his briefcase and sax next to the sofa. “What are you doing here so early in the morning? It’s not even seven-thirty.”
“Remember, we changed the meeting to eight instead of twelve-thirty. I figured I’d come here and take care of a few things while I waited for you, instead of going downtown to Dupree Enterprises and then having to stop and come back here.
“That makes sense.” Nash started the coffeemaker that sat in the corner of his office on the built-in credenza.
“What did you get into yesterday? I tried calling you, but kept getting your voice mail. Speaking of which—” he pulled his cell phone from his pocket “—I need to email Luke about the photo shoot for the new club in Buckhead.” He glanced up. “Sorry about that. What were you going to say?”
“I hung out at this community center down near College Park, played some b-ball―” he shrugged “―and messed around a little before heading home.”
“Man, you should’ve called me. I haven’t played ball in a couple of months. Who’d you play with, anyway?” Nigel glanced at him and then went back to typing something into his phone. “And why’d you go down south when we usually play at the fitness center?”
To Nigel, anything south of downtown Atlanta was considered down south.
Nash toyed with the saxophone paperweight sitting on his desk, a gift from his housekeeper when he opened his first nightclub in Los Angeles. “I played with Iris Sinclair.”
Nigel stopped fiddling with his phone and gave Nash his full attention. “Iris? Iris, as in the hot defense attorney who’s taking care of your kid? That Iris?”
Nash nodded. “That would be the one. She finally agreed to go out with me, but only if she planned our date. We met up at Mercy Youth Community Center, where she does volunteer work.” Nash scooted down in his seat and rested his head against the back of the chair. “She wanted me to help her assemble bookshelves.”
A flashback of him pinning Iris to the wall, dry-humping her like a damned dog in heat, blazed through his mind. He had been so caught up in the moment that he didn’t think. She wasn’t like the other women he dated. Iris was special. Yet he had treated her like a quick lay, not taking into consideration where they were, how she felt about him or how she’d feel after the fact. To his surprise, she hadn’t seemed bothered by the experience at all. If anything, it had loosened her up and she let down her guard.
Nigel propped his elbows on the desk and interlocked his fingers. “Let me get this straight. You asked out the woman...the woman who has agreed to care for your child over the next couple of months in order to keep her out of foster care? Man, what were you thinking?”
Nash sat up and glared at his friend. “What do you mean, what was I thinking? She’s an amazing woman. Why shouldn’t I have asked her out?”
Nigel slammed his palms against the desk. “Come on, Nash, you know your track record with women. The last thing you need is to get involved with this woman, break her heart and risk Tania being sent to a foster home.”
“It’s not like that... Iris is different.” Nash leaned forward, rubbing his forehead. True, he didn’t have the best history with women, but he’d never been with a woman like Iris. “I can’t explain it, Nigel, but I really like this woman.”
“You really liked them all. How can you possibly—”
“I know what I like.” Nash stood and moved around the room. “Iris is not like the other women I’ve gone out with. She’s real, man. She’s not caught up with what I have, or trying to trap me into marriage, nor is she concerned about what I can do for her. Heck, after leaving the community center, she even chose to have dinner at the Waffle House instead of some expensive five-star restaurant.
“Still...”
“Nigel, she’s amazing. She’s as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside, and she genuinely cares about people. I have too much respect for her to do anything that would hurt her. But that’s all beside the point. I’m still getting to know her and I don’t even know if she’ll go out with me on a real date. So this whole conversation might be a moot point.”
Nash respected his friend’s opinion. They were closer than most brothers and shared their opinions of the other’s actions, whether solicited or not. He knew Nigel meant well, and it wasn’t that Nash himself hadn’t thought about the ramifications of getting involved with Iris; it was that he couldn’t help himself. He was drawn to her like a magnet to a steel beam.
Nigel stood, shaking his head. He eased around the desk, his hands shoved into his pockets. “I don’t know, Nash. I think you’re taking a big risk in pursuing her.”
Nash hunched his shoulders. “You know me. I’m Mr. Risk-Taker. I might not be looking for anything serious right now, but I’d like to get to know Iris better. She’s good people.”
“That’s just it. She doesn’t come across as a woman who’ll partake in one of your noncommittal affairs. You said it yourself, she’s not like the others. From what I’ve read and heard about her, I bet she has too much respect for herself to get involved seriously with the likes of you.”
Nash’s eyebrows drew together. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re not the marrying type, but she is. Like Picasso once said, ‘There are only two types of women—goddesses and doormats.’ Iris is definitely not in the latter category. If you’re not looking for anything serious, you should leave her the hell alone.”
I would leave her alone if I could stop thinking about her.
Chapter 8
Iris pulled her Mercedes C63 AMG onto the grounds of the private school Tania attended and fell in line behind the other luxury vehicles. Kids hurried out of cars, some even before their parents came to a complete stop. No doubt they were trying to get away before Mom planted an embarrassing kiss on their cheeks.
“Okay, so your uncle is going to pick you up after school and drop you at the apartment. I might not be there, but Janna will be there.”
Tania sighed. “You do know that I’m not a little kid, right? You don’t have to make sure someone is there when I get out of school. I have a key.”
Iris tried not to laugh at the incredulous look Tania gave her. She, too, remembered the days of feeling as if Mama Adel treated her like a baby, preparing her lunch and some days walking with her to the bus stop.
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