“Trying for round two already?” Iris asked in a sleepy, amused voice. She turned her head to look up at me, a smile on her gorgeous lips. I hadn’t even realized she was awake for all the time I’d spent looking at her. Everything had seemed so quiet and still that I almost didn’t want it to end.
“I’m up for it if you are,” I chuckled, leaning in to gently plant a kiss on her, my hand caressing the line of her jaw. “Though I might do better with a shower first.”
Iris gave me another smile and nodded, running her hand through my hair as the two of us lounged in her bed together. Her pretty eyes stared up into mine, two gorgeous jewels glimmering in the morning sunlight. I couldn’t recall ever seeing a sight more beautiful in my entire life than Iris’s body lying across her crumpled sheets.
“How’d you sleep?” she asked as she traced her fingers along the swell of my bicep. “Good, I hope.”
“Best I’ve had in a long time,” I said. I toyed with a few strands of her hair, wondering how after all this time I’d never actually stopped to enjoy the feeling of waking up to a lover in my arms.
Something inside of me felt strange—different than anything I’d felt in the last decade. In fact, the feeling was so foreign to me that at first I almost didn’t recognize what it was. My chest felt lighter, and I couldn’t for the life of me wipe this ridiculous smile off my face. Every second felt new and fresh—exciting, even. It only hit me after a few moments that that must be what it’s like to finally be happy. It only made sense; Iris had been the missing piece of the puzzle of my life, and now that she was back in the picture, everything else was finally falling into place.
For the first time, I began to consider my future and the things that life might actually hold for me beyond my next sexual conquest. I felt as though a door had been opened up right in front of me, leading me out into a wider world of possibility, and it was all because of Iris.
“I wanted to thank you,” she whispered, running the tips of her fingers over my pecs. “No one’s taken care of me the way you did last night. I felt close to you for the first time in a long time.”
“I felt the same way,” I said as I gently pressed my lips to hers. “I don’t think I’ve felt this close to anyone… not in the last seven years.”
“I guess you should have stuck around, then,” she giggled, returning my kisses tenderly, drawing closer to my warm, muscular body.
She’s right, I thought, pulling her nearer and stroking the silken locks of her hair. If I’d just stayed and taken care of my problems like a man, I could have saved myself all of this trouble.
I sighed, resting my forehead against hers as she snuggled in, seeking my warmth. There was so much I had to make up for, so many sins against the people I loved that needed to be mitigated. I knew, deep down, that the road to forgiveness would be a long one, but I also knew that the first step had been making things right by Iris, which meant telling her a secret I’d been keeping since before I’d left home.
“Iris,” I whispered to her as she rested her head on my chest, “can I tell you something?”
My heart was racing, nervously thudding in my chest as I stood on the precipice of revealing the one thing I had tried never to admit, to never fall for.
“Of course, Slade,” she whispered softly, caressing my stubbled cheek. “You can tell me anything.”
I felt a warmth blossoming in my chest, something I’d not felt since my mother died. I’d almost forgotten that kind of hazy warmth even existed, that deep sense of caring and contentment—the feeling of truly being loved.
“I love you, Iris,” I whispered to her, the words just barely audible as I breathed them out into the quiet of the morning. “I’ve loved you for so long, but I was so angry with my dad that I used that love as something to hurt him with. I should never have done that to you. I love you so much.”
At first, Iris was silent. She just looked into my eyes, her expression frozen in place in what I assumed was shock. The songs of birds and dull roar of cars from the road the only sounds that filtered through the window of her apartment, filling the gap that I had left by my confession. My chest tightened as the lull wore on, as I began to fear that she didn’t feel the same way. It seemed like an eternity, waiting for her to respond.
Without warning, Iris’ lips crashed into mine, and she rolled me over onto my back as she straddled my waist. Soft, gentle sounds escaped her as she laid kiss after kiss on me. I kissed her back eagerly, wrapping my fingers up in her hair and pulling her in closer.
“I love you too, Slade,” she whispered back finally, looking deep into my eyes before slowly and deliberately kissing me one last time. “I always have.”
Finally, there it was—the fulfillment I’d been looking for, the way to fill the void in my heart I’d carried with me for damn near my whole life. I wanted to make love to Iris again, to show her exactly how much I cared. Besides, there was something I hadn’t done for her yet—something I’d been aching to do ever since she’d shown up at my hospital back in the city.
“I think this is cause for celebration,” I said, rolling Iris off me and onto her back on the bed.
She giggled, but that sound soon dropped to a low, breathy moan as I linked her knees over my back. I smirked, opening her thighs so I could delve into her folds, spreading them with my fingers, my wrist on her mound.
“Slade,” she said, biting her lip, “you don’t have to…”
“I know,” I said, studying the perfect, pink interior of her slit. “I don’t have to do anything, Iris. Not for anyone or anything. I’m doing this because I want to.”
Iris gasped as I gently lifted the hood away from her clit, exposing that shiny pearl to the tip of my tongue. I reached out to flick it, sampling a taste of my stepsister’s pussy. It was even sweeter than I remembered it, like honey and strawberries, but with a kick that reminded me of some kind of spice—saffron or cinnamon, maybe. Something that made my tongue tingle as I pressed it to her again.
“Fuck, Slade,” she moaned, her hips gradually relaxing as I started to lick her in earnest. “Nobody’s done this for me since…”
My cock hardened against the sheets as I recalled the circumstances surrounding the last time I’d done this to her. Her eyes had been all wide and shocked when I’d suggested she should let me bestow upon her the greatest pleasure known to womankind. I think she thought I was exaggerating, right up until she let me under her skirt.
Iris wasn’t clothed now. She was naked, exposed, like a platter of the finest delicacies laid out for my tasting. I loved the way she was spread, so shameless and inviting. I buried my tongue in between her folds, flicking rapidly, driving her toward those cliffs of blissful madness just because I could.
It gave me a rush, making her squirm and writhe. And when she came on my face—when her juices flowed over my lips and tongue like the sweetest nectar—my dick spasmed in eager reply.
“Fuck me, Slade,” Iris begged, biting her lip with her bangs dangling in front of her eyes. “Again. I want you to fuck me again.”
And who was I to deny such a desperate command?
I climbed up my stepsister’s body, kissing my way over her taut tummy, her full breasts, and taking one of her puffy, pink nipples into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around that very sensitive tip, making her buck and cry out for the satisfaction of my cock inside her. I hadn’t been bareback with anyone since her, and God, it had been so exhilarating to slide into her without a barrier between us—to give myself to someone that way. It didn’t hurt that I got to cum in her pussy, either. There was something so satisfying about that on a primal level. I didn’t want it to stop.
I took each of her legs in one hand and bent them back until her knees touched her shoulders. Iris looked up at me, a little grin on her face, as I slid my shaft up and down her wet slit. “Planning on going deep?” she purred at me.
I smirked, slapping my tip against her entrance. “Only because I know that’s how you like it, sis.�
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Iris arched off the bed as I plunged into her, giving her no quarter as I bottomed out. She shrieked as I hit her cervix, raking her nails down my arms the way she had in the pool house seven years ago. I groaned as her pussy clenched, milking at my rod. Going this deep with no condom, and with her so wet and wanting—I knew I wasn’t going to last long.
And when she started playing with her tits, all bets were off.
I growled and dug my fingers into her calves, sawing my cock in and out of her pussy to the cadence of her delighted squeals. I loved that I could look down and see my cock pistoning in and out of her, could see her pussy swallow me whole with each stroke. Iris was the only one who could take me like this, who could accept all of me not only without complaint, but while begging for more. No other woman had been able to handle my giant cock, but with Iris, it was second nature.
“Shit. You got me ready to cum,” I told her in a low, guttural groan. It was true—my balls were already tightening, getting heavier and heavier as I stroked in and out of her tight cunt. “Oh, God, Iris, I’m gonna fill you up…”
“Yeah,” she grunted, licking her lips as she, too, watched the steady rhythm of my dick fucking her. When I pulsed in warning, a shudder ran through her perfect body, beckoning me deeper, harder, faster. “Do it, Slade. Cum inside me. Make me yours. I know you want to…”
I snarled and bucked in and out of her, making Iris scream until the volume of my voice almost matched hers. With a strangled cry, I pulled back so only my tip was inside her and stroked my remaining length, a hot, sizzling pleasure running through me as I dumped yet another thick load into Iris’ pussy.
Only this time, I hadn’t been all the way in, and most of it came dripping back out. I moaned, watching my cream pie seep out onto the sheets, the sight of all that jizz trickling down her thighs serving to heighten my pleasure. I shot a few more ropes into her, then leaned back, kissing her feet.
“I’m going to step into the shower,” I said, laughing as she stretched out beneath me, a pout on her face. The way her breasts hung so perfectly made them impossible not to squeeze. She grinned and I buried my face in her cleavage for a moment, inhaling her scent—she was sweet, like honey and lavender. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”
“You’d better be,” she teased, begrudgingly allowing me to slip out of her so I could pad naked and barefoot into her bathroom. I turned on the shower as Iris sprawled across her bed like a lazy cat, knowing that no matter how steamy the water was, it wouldn’t compare to the heat I felt all over every time I looked at her.
When I was with Iris, I felt invincible. Like nothing could ever go wrong.
Looking back on it, that kind of idiotic thinking was probably what jinxed us.
~ THIRTEEN ~
Iris
I was still reeling from getting fucked in half sideways when my phone began to ring. I totally wasn’t ready for it, either. I was sure I couldn’t stand, let alone try to talk to someone. Besides, it was probably my dad, and he was the last person I wanted to talk to with Slade’s cum dripping out of me.
He’d left the bathroom door open and I peeked in from my position on the bed, watching him wash himself behind the glass shower door. There was only my stuff in there, so I knew he’d come out smelling like me, which didn’t bother me one bit. It felt like I was staking a claim to him, in some way.
My phone was ringing again. Shit. Whoever it was, they were awfully persistent.
I picked my phone up off of my nightstand, pushing my wild hair out of my eyes and squinting at the number. My jaw sagged. Holy shit. It was Kellan.
I sat straight up in bed, all the leadenness lost from my limbs, that pleasant spinning sensation dissipating from my brain, and picked up the call, thankful he hadn’t quit after the first time around.
“Kellan! Jesus Christ, where have you been? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come pick you up?”
Kellan laughed. It was a harsh, choking sound. He sounded like he’d been smoking since he was three, and not at all like the boy I’d grown up with—my baby brother. “Shit, sis, no. I’m good. Just wanted to call and say what’s up.”
I wrinkled my nose. “‘What’s up?’ Uh, what’s up is that you left home almost two weeks ago and nobody’s seen you since. That’s ‘what’s up.’” Then I stopped myself. Yelling at him would just make him hang up. I couldn’t let him do that, especially not before I’d told him that everything our stepdad had said about Slade was wrong. “Listen, I have something I need to tell you…”
“I got something to say, too,” Kellan told me, but then didn’t say anything, so I cut him off.
“What Dad told you about Slade—about me and Slade—it wasn’t true, Kellan. What we did was consensual. I know it sounds weird, but… we were in love.” Kinda, I added inwardly. One of us was…
“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Kellan said, as though I hadn’t even spoken at all. He sounded bleary, like he was just waking up, or like he hadn’t slept in days. He probably hadn’t, knowing him. “I’m sorry for everything. For all the times I ran away. For failing you and our family. I suck, Iris. I just… suck. There’s no getting around it. I’m useless and… and you’re all better off without me.”
I frowned. “Jesus, Kellan, that’s not true.” My stomach felt sick. What the hell was he talking about? Where was all this coming from? “We love you. We just want you to come back home.”
“You remember when we were kids, Iris? How we used to talk about growing up, and what we were gonna be, and we were both gonna be, like… really awesome? Well, only you turned out that way. I’m not awesome. I’m not awesome at all.”
Kellan cursed. It sounded like he’d stumbled over something, or maybe a lot of somethings, because the noise echoed for what seemed like forever. “Where the hell are you, Kellan?” I asked him. “Please tell me you’re not in that crackhouse.”
“It’s not a crackhouse,” he protested. “I don’t do crack, Iris. Is that what you think? You think I’m a crackhead now? Maybe I should be. Already fucked up so much that, hey, might as well…”
“Just tell me where you are,” I repeated, anxiety grasping my chest tighter with each passing moment. “I’ll come get you. We’ll talk about how much you suck in the car. It’ll be fun.”
“I’m with friends,” he muttered, then groaned like he was lying down. “But not for long. Soon I’ll be far away, and nobody will have to worry about me then, because I’m leaving, Iris. For good.” He laughed bitterly. “Hey, just like Dad did, right? Dear old Dad. Pops. The absentee father. How long did we play hide and seek with him? You can come out now, Dad! Shit, how many years…”
I heard Slade shut the water off. “So you are at that crackhouse—or whatever, right? You’re there with those guys you hang around with?”
“I’m nowhere,” Kellan mumbled. “Nowhere and no one. See you around, sis. I love you. Be good, okay? Be good for Mom.”
“Kellan, wait—” I began, but he had already hung up. I tried calling him back, but his phone went straight to voice mail.
“Fuck!” I hissed, slamming my cell phone down onto the bed and burying my face in my hands. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he doing this to me? Why was he putting our family through this shit? He had to be strung out. There was no other explanation for it. He hadn’t even been listening when I’d told him about Slade. The only way Kellan was ever going to come to terms with what I had to say—or hear it at all—was if he was sober. I fell back onto my pillow and groaned as I realized Slade and I were going to have to go to that damn crackhouse.
I heard the bathroom door open and looked over to see Slade, still damp and with a towel wreathed around his narrow waist. He grinned as he looked me over—I’d thrown the covers off and my breasts were exposed, not to mention it was a little chilly in here.
“Now that’s what I like to see,” he murmured, letting his towel drop. I sat up as he climbed onto the bed beside me, snaking his hand up to cup
one of my breasts, but he stopped when he saw the look in my eyes. I thought I saw a flash of fear cross his face. “You’re having regrets again, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head so hard I thought my brains would come spilling out my ears. “No, it isn’t that. At all. I just got a call from Kellan. He sounded… weird.”
“Kellan’s a junkie,” Slade said, as if that was the only explanation my statement warranted. When I shot him another, more withering look, he shrugged. “Okay. Weird how?”
“Well, you’re right. He was high. He must have been. Or he was coming down. Either way, he was babbling about being a failure.” I was reminded instantly of Slade’s confession the previous night. “I think he’s feeling pretty guilty. He said…” My throat tightened. “He said he wasn’t coming home this time, Slade.”
Slade frowned. He released my breast and sat up straighter, his brow furrowed pensively. “What exactly did he say, Iris?”
His tone worried me even more than I already was. Fuck, my nerves were frayed. “He talked about our childhood some, how Dad left. Then he said he was sorry for being a fuck-up and that he was going to stay away for good this time. That he was no one, and we were all better off without him.” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Almost sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”
Slade didn’t answer. His brows had knit together, casting shadows over his eyes. “What is it?” I asked him.
“We’ve got to go find Kellan,” he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and searching for his boxer briefs. “Right now. You said you knew where he was, right? Or at least, you thought you did?”
Dread slithered through my veins, icy and heart-stopping. I felt like my stomach had fallen out at my feet—like I was plunging into the Arctic Ocean from a great and terrible height. “Slade, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Those things Kellan said,” he answered, pulling up his jeans, “I’ve heard them before, from junkies, from straight-edge guys, hell, even from new moms with the ‘baby blues.’ It never ends well.” When I just stared at him, he pressed his lips into a grim line. “I don’t mean to scare you, Iris, but that’s the kind of shit people say when they’re gearing up to kill themselves.”
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