A Message For Iris : (Gods of Olympus Book 3)

by elda lore

  “I can’t see you,” she moaned over my lips as delicate fingers wrapped around my thick shaft. The black was so thick in this dark room, it should have been suffocating, but the feel of Iris against me made me weightless and free. A feeling I couldn’t ever remember experiencing.

  “Do you need to see me?” I muttered, drawing my lips away from hers and tracing mine down her neck. By way of touch, I found treasure when my fingers skated up her thighs and hit dampness. Sight wasn’t a sensation we needed when we had touch. A subtle grunt as one digit slid over delicate elastic and into deep heat proved this.

  “Let touching lead. Sketch me,” I mumbled over her sweet, scented skin, that refreshing mixture of lavender and rain.

  “But the girls,” she replied, her voice hitched. “They’re just down the hall.” Her hands cupped my head.

  “Better there than in here,” I joked, as my mouth found her breast and gently nipped over her tight cotton tee. She yelped, and my mouth returned to hers, sucking in the sound, as a second finger slipped in and out of a place I longed to know more intimately. She pushed down my jeans and boxers enough to expose my hips, and I shoved her thong to her hips. She shimmied to slip the thin material to her ankles. As she stepped out of it, I spread her knees with one of mine.

  “Are we moving too fast?” My breath exhaled with a silent plea that she wouldn’t stop us, but knowing I would if she asked. Her hands covered my jaw, and she dragged my lips to hers, giving me the answer I needed.

  “I haven’t been with anyone for a long time.” My voice trembled and I cleared my throat. “I promise to make this up to you,” I whispered before I entered her with one sharp thrust forward. She cried out, lowering her mouth to stifle the cry in my shoulder.

  “You don’t believe in promises,” she muttered. My hands cupped her ass, shifting her as my knees bent, our heights not aligning perfectly. Wrapping one leg around my hip, I slipped to the hilt, surrounded by a warmth beyond any sun.

  “Oh, I believe,” I muttered. “I believe.” I briefly looked down where we were joined, making out only the outline as my eyes adjusted to the dark. I stroked fingers through her hair, marveling at what this beautiful woman was giving to me, filled instantly with hope for things I didn’t deserve and didn’t realize I needed.

  “So warm, Iris. So bright,” I whispered, finding her mouth as I plummeted in and out of heat like none I’d known. She was sunshine melting away the rain, and the darkness around us shimmered.

  “Riordan, I…” Her short nails scratched at the back of my neck, sending currents of rippling color down my spine.

  “You’re so colorful, Iris. Share that color with me,” I pleaded, sounding cheesy, but fucking loving the sensation of her wrapped around me. She stiffened and stifled another cry in my neck, the moan vibrating down my jugular to another equally taut vein. Thrusting deep within her, I nearly saw stars as I came.

  She shuddered against me, and I lowered her shaky leg to the floor as I reached for the wall by her head to steady myself. Still inside her despite our finish, I pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

  “Dear Iris, thank you.”

  I couldn’t get enough of her. While we circled one another at work, I found any reason I could to pull her into a room and kiss her senseless before releasing her to ink a customer. I’d moved too fast by taking her against the wall, and in an attempt to be better toward her, I asked her out to dinner one night. I explained again how I abused the privilege of drinking and took a pass when she asked if I wanted to go to a bar afterward to listen to a local band. Instead, we went to get ice cream.

  “I dare you to get sprinkles,” she teased. “The colorful, bright mixture that melts on your tongue.” Her eyes dilated as she flirted with me.

  “I know something that could melt on my tongue.” My eyes roamed her body, desperate for a repeat of what we’d done a few nights prior. Kissing her was plenty to satisfy me, but I was coming undone with the desire to enter her again, under better conditions than a dark studio. I wanted to know every inch of her body, every color inked on her skin. Her face pinked under my appraisal. Iris was so different from Henny. Absolute opposites, and yet she made me feel complete. I hadn’t known someone so carefree, so willing, so open to letting me be me.

  “Well, I dare you to get chocolate ice cream covered in only chocolate sprinkles. Everything all one flavor—dark.” My eyebrows wiggled at her as I slipped a hand around her hip and tugged her to me.

  “There’s nothing wrong with vanilla,” she smiled, her eyes dilating further, the violet color I liked disappearing slowly. “But I love an assortment of flavors. I’m always willing to experiment.” I groaned in response. This girl was going to cause a problem right here in the ice cream parlor. My wandering eyes assessed the stability of a flimsy, circular parlor table, and she caught me.

  “I’ll have rainbow sherbet, please, with sprinkles as a topping.” She looked up at me, letting her mouth curl sheepishly after she ordered. “See, I like a mixture of flavors and textures, all bursting in my mouth at once.” I tugged her tighter and nipped at her neck. She wore a form-fitting dress, sleeveless to expose the art on her body, and the curve-hugging material had me hard all through dinner. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out now that I’d had a sample of her. I wanted to skip the sprinkles and lick her all over, instead.

  “I’ll have the same thing,” I ordered. “I’d like to experiment with a burst of colorful flavor as well.” Thankfully, the young girl waiting on us didn’t understand our double meanings. We sat at the small table I’d assessed for stability earlier. Watching her take the first lick unhinged me. She sucked in the ice cream, drawing the sweetness to a sharp tip, tempting me with those lips wrapped around something cool and delicious. I followed her lead, letting my tongue linger on the frozen treat as I swirled around the scoop. Swallowing, I paused.

  “Mmmm...this is delicious.” I took another lick, and then another. I couldn’t get enough of the fabulous flavor. I looked up to find Iris watching me. “What?”

  “You should see your face. It’s like you’ve never had ice cream,” she teased. And suddenly, I felt like I hadn’t, like I’d never experienced anything like my tongue tickling over something so sweet. With only a little left above the cone, I swiped the ice cream on her knee. Her mouth opened in mock horror, completely startled at the cool sensation. Lowering my head, I pushed back in my seat, but my eyes never left hers. I watched that periwinkle darken to a bright purple as my tongue stuck out and I lapped at her sherbet covered kneecap. I sucked up the colorful dessert, lingering longer than necessary, swirling my tongue to make certain I hadn’t missed a drop.

  As my head lifted, my eyes remained trained on hers. “I’ve never had ice cream so sweet before, and I’d definitely love more.”

  Her lips twisted, a smirky smile brightening her face. She lowered her cone and swiped in on my nose.

  “There you go,” she said, bursting into laughter as bright as her skin, as flavorful as the ice cream. I reached for her, ready to wipe my nose on her neck. She squealed like a child. The sound so surprising, the noise so startling, I forgot my intention and laughed in response. It felt good to laugh, like a light summer rain that patters at a window. With ice cream dripping off my nose and the smile of a beautiful girl aimed at me, I felt like I’d stepped out of my dark past and felt the sunshine for the first time in a long, long while.

  We made plans to go on an evening picnic after work, but we argued about my bike.

  “I’m not getting on that death trap,” she snarked.

  “Well, we can’t all have a bad-ass ten-speed,” I teased, noting Iris’ preferred method of transportation, as she only lived a few blocks from the studio.

  “It’s not a ten-speed, it’s a surf bike. Maybe we should bike up the mountain instead of hike.”

  Bike riding wasn’t an option. I had something special planned, and I needed more storage than a non-motorized two-wheeler could provide.


  “Motorcycle. Now, Iris.” Her brows rose so high her forehead wrinkled, and I stepped toward her to ease the harsh tone. “Please.” When her surprised face lowered, I went in for the attack, unable to keep my mouth from hers. I loved kissing her, touching her, feeling her arms wrapped around me. We hadn’t had sex again, but the next time we did, I knew it would be more than up against a wall. I moved too quickly the other night, but there was something about Iris, something I sensed I needed, and it involved more than a physical release.

  Handing her a helmet, I helped her with the chin strap before adjusting my own. I slipped a leg over the seat and held up a hand for hers. She straddled behind me, her inner thighs pressing forward around my legs, and I was ready to scrap the bike and take her home. But I promised myself that I’d get to know more about this colorful girl before I took advantage again. When her arms wrapped around me, my heart leapt, and my palm caressed over her forearm, sighing in unwarranted relief that she held onto me.

  We took off at a slow pace, winding through the narrow roads off Front Street before crossing the highway and heading up into the hills. As we climbed, the weight on my shoulders grew lighter. The wind at my face, a girl at my back, wheels under me—what more could I need? I didn’t want to answer my own question. Redemption. Forgiveness. Peace. They were things I wanted, but wouldn’t allow myself to have, but with this girl, it seemed those things might find me.

  “You seem familiar with this area,” she yelled over the roar of the engine. We wove upward, finally arriving at a place I’d discovered in my wandering rides when I first came to Maui. We pulled over and parked.

  “I have somewhere I want to show you.” I helped her off the bike and watched as she tugged off her helmet, her raven hair blowing free in the breeze.

  “Where are we?” she asked, observing our surroundings.

  “You’ll see,” I teased. After I removed a blanket and a small sack from my saddlebag, I grabbed her hand. We walked slowly, side-by-side, as we climbed the rocky path to a landing. Eventually, we stopped, and Iris sucked in a breath. Taking in the view of the ocean from the higher altitude, she seemed pleased with our secluded position. Despite the openness of the space, the natural observation deck was somewhat hidden from the road below. Only a local would know of this spot, and it was perfect for a sunset picnic.

  Spreading out the blanket, we sat.

  “Are you okay?” Iris had grown very quiet, and I didn’t know how to read her yet, but I wanted to read every line of her, every ink-covered line.

  “It’s so peaceful up here,” she sighed, scanning the scenery around us before looking up at the sky.

  “I discovered it as I learned the island.” Her face spun slowly to mine.

  “You haven’t been here long?”

  “Only a month or two.” I passed her a small cup with lemonade-iced tea combined.

  “Do you move around a lot?” she asked before taking a sip and smiling as if the drink held a secret.

  “I was born and raised in Chicago, and thought I’d be there all my life, but then…” I didn’t know if I should tell her all my truths. Some realities were just too harsh. “Cash lived here and asked me to come stay, so I did.”

  Lowering her cup, she looked up at me. Those purple eyes shifted color with the fading sun. She stared at me, waiting for the rest of the story, knowing there was more.

  “I had some trouble in Chicago.” I coughed to clear my throat, memories threatening to choke me. “It was time for a change.” She turned her head slowly away from me, staring out at the open sea.

  “Change is good, right?” The question seemed rhetorical, and she didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ve moved too often in my life. It’s made it hard to settle.”

  Suddenly, I feared she was trying to tell me something. While a relationship was the last thing I wanted, having Iris was what I needed. I felt it deep inside me, and I wasn’t ready to let her go.

  “But you’re settled here, with the shop and your letter writing?”

  Violet-colored eyes pierced me. I didn’t have another reference for her advice letters, but she seemed to sense I was degrading the work.

  “What else should I call it?” I softened my tone.

  “Messages of love, I guess. Letters of hope.” She shrugged as if she didn’t know herself how to describe what she did.

  “How do you get the letters?”

  She was thoughtful a moment, staring out at the setting sun. “Have you heard of Bottle Beach?”

  I wasn’t local long enough to know the idiosyncrasies of the island. I shook my head.

  “Down the beach from the strip, there is a cove. Legend has it that people found messages in bottles there. Why there specifically, I don’t know, but a structure was eventually made out of recycled bottles. It was safer for the environment, and people could leave their messages.”

  I watched as she spoke, her face bright from the fading sun but heavy with the burden of helping others.

  “Why Dear Iris? I mean, I get that that’s your name, but why you?”

  She breathed deep, contemplating her answer.

  “Iris is the name of the messenger goddess from Greek mythology. I…She delivers messages between another world and this one. Like a message in a bottle, people write their pleas for help or final thoughts and leave them at Bottle Beach. The letter writers didn’t originally expect an answer. It was more like a prayer.” She shrugged. “But it evolved into Dear Iris once we started answering their letters.”

  “I think it’s very noble.” Her face swung to me. “You’re trying to help all these people. Complete strangers will find answers about love, comfort in life, or hope after death. I couldn’t be that dedicated to others.”

  A slow smile lightened her face. “I bet you’re more devoted than you’d like to think.”

  If only she knew; I hardly committed myself to anything. Sure, I’d been in a serious relationship, because it seemed the right thing to do, not because she was the person I wanted. I had a decent job, because it was what was expected of me, not because it was the life I desired. I’d gone to traditional universities because my parents insisted I get a four-year degree, not because that was what my dreams required.

  Her smile faltered as she looked at me.

  “Maybe things aren’t always as they seem, though.” Her eyes squinted as she watched the falling sun. Heavy clouds to the south looked ready to collide with the glowing orb.

  “Looks like another storm.”

  “There will be,” she muttered. She looked down at her hands and picked at her shorts.

  “Shall we eat before it’s too late?” I asked, but when her dilated eyes looked up at me, I had other hungers.

  “Charlie,” she whispered, and it was all the invitation I needed. I nearly dove for her, knocking her softly back as my body pressed against hers. Her mouth melted beneath mine like the setting sun. She was so warm. Spread beneath me, my hands wandered the treasures of her body. My mouth wanted to be the next explorer, and it wandered down her neck to her exposed breast above her fitted tank top. Lowering to her stomach, I pressed up the hem of her snug tank to expose the flat of her stomach, kissing an arch over her waist. Her hands combed through my hair, cupping the back of my head. I travelled lower, taking down shorts and underwear in one tug. Her knees opened readily, and my tongue teased her entrance.

  Her head rolled on the blanket as her fingers tugged my hair. The pinching pull spurred me on, and I delved into her, lapping and licking, sucking and kissing, drawing her heady flavor in deep, the aroma of spring rain ever-present, even between her legs. I drank her up as she curled forward and burst, whimpering my name.

  Brushing tender kisses to the insides of her thighs, I pulled back to find her watching me. My hand ran up the flat of her stomach and slipped under her shirt, between her breasts.

  “Your heart is racing.”

  “Because of you,” she said. For me, was what I wanted her to say instead.

  Sever
al nights later, she told me she had to work with the girls.

  “You’re a workaholic, Iris,” I teased, kissing her shoulder. She’d taken me to her house, a few blocks from the shop, for a quick dinner. I liked her home. It was colorfully decorated like the skin on her arm, but tasteful. Red chairs sat across from a deep gray couch covered in pillows from every color of the rainbow, which found their way to the floor, as that’s where we’d just been making out like teenagers. It was almost shameful that I hadn’t gotten her to a bed yet. I couldn’t keep my hands off her, craving her heat and the tingling feeling she gave me.

  “You’re insatiable,” she whispered, pulling back her hair and swirling it into a messy bun at the base of her neck.

  “I’m only hungry for you,” I murmured, tugging her to back to me and kissing her neck again before finally releasing her. The tasting of her lips was only an appetizer for what I wanted from her, but she didn’t have time for the full menu.

  “Let me come with you. Maybe I can help.”

  “No, Charlie, I explained it to you.” When she used my given name, she knew she had me. I couldn’t put into words what it did to me. The sound was a caress, licking my skin and curling my toes in pleasure. My heart beat faster; my breath grew deeper as if it recognized her voice in some cosmic way.

  Her hand trailed down my T-shirt-covered chest, tracing over the rippled scar beneath.

  “What happened?” she asked, her hand fluttering over the puckered skin she couldn’t see.

  “I had a weak heart. I eventually had surgery.” At those words, she looked down at her hand and tugged up my shirt to trace over the surgery line. The tip of her finger delicately followed the rugged path. Her lips shadowed her lead, lowering to kiss tiny pecks down the line before travelling lower and lower. She skimmed along the soft hairs of my treasure trail, and all thoughts of the surgery escaped me.