by Melissa Blue
“What?”
“Guess not.” He finished the chicken in a few bites and licked the sauce from his fingers. “I'm going to steal more off that plate.”
“Make your own.”
He reached forward and she knocked his hand away. Her next move was to pick up the fork. After a few half-hearted bites, she put it back down. She swallowed twice then said, “I'm hurt and embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?”
She caught the flash of temper before he snuffed it out with his unreadable expression. “Logically, I'm aware my father is strict. So was my mother. I had hoped he'd give this once.”
His nod was slow as though he was considering what to say next. “And what he said about me not marrying you?”
She glanced at him. His face remained blank, but she could almost hear the question. “I don't expect a ring.”
He narrowed his eyes. “But you'd stop feeling embarrassed if you had one.”
And that was the hard truth—she would. It wouldn't mean she knew him better, trusted him more. She would once again look good on paper. She’d be a woman her father accepted. At the end of the day, the truth was Porter didn’t love her and she didn’t love him. She had a bottomless pit of lust for him and that wasn’t how she wanted to start a marriage.
She tilted her head back, scouring his face for any kind of emotion or a tell of what he was thinking. “I'm an asshole, aren't I?”
“A little.”
She laughed at his unvarnished honesty. “Seriously. Go to your friends. They'll wonder where we went and come inside.”
He leaned back in his chair and gripped his nape with one hand. Tats decorated the skin behind his bicep too. The ones along his forearms were sketched-in lines like blueprints. She had no idea what it could build or what they meant outside of the obvious, but the ones on the sensitive skin leading to his armpit were a nucleus surrounded by an element composition.
“They wouldn't come in,” he said. Iris lifted a brow and he lifted one back before a smile broke through. “They'd just make a bet about what we were doing.” He shook his head. “They've probably already made several.”
“I used to think those bets you guys had were fun whenever Eva and Ashley told me about them.”
“It’s Oliver’s fault, but he needs a vice.”
“So what’s our bet?”
“There’s probably a wager on the fact that Junior will surprise us all and really be a girl. You're going to cuss me out before the day is over. Or run in the other direction now that you're an honorary member of the Goon Squad.”
She dropped her hand to her stomach. “And what do they think about all this?”
He dropped his arm to his lap. “They want me happy.”
Had her father, even once, considered this situation could work out for the best? That she and Porter would be great co-parents?
That she'd be a good mother?
Did he think she could be happy?
God. She was going to cry. “As what has become the norm, I need the restroom.”
“Mi casa es tu casa. No matter what, you’re family now, Iris.”
“Thanks.”
Once again, Iris waited until no one could see her to break down and cry.
Elliot + Olivia
Porter’s patio, maybe for the first time in ever, looked like Grady's place. His sister talked with her hands as she sat between Victor and Oliver. Took two seconds to realize she was offering tips on how to beat some game they were into at the moment.
Grady and Eva were whispering to each other. Their baby slept in the carrier. The intimacy between them was thoughtless, from the small touches to finishing each other's sentences.
Porter should have been relaxed as a sense of home and contentment filled him, but his mind strayed to Iris. Fucking, Iris.
She was a bundle of complications.
The women he tended to date were sleek and sophisticated...and easy—not in the sense they readily had sex with him. He'd pamper them, act the gentleman, be honest when the inevitable question “Where do you see our relationship going?” When things ended they tended to part amicably. His relationships, his life, for the most part, all fit into a nice, neat, and easy box.
The Iris he’d slept with had given him the impression she didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of her. Then again their time in the hotel room seemed to be... Life outside of it didn’t matter. He was a man with an appetite, and she was a woman who didn’t mind sating his hunger.
Now she was a woman he’d gotten pregnant, who didn’t have familial support from what he could see, and was hungry for touch but nothing else.
A woman who was probably in his bathroom bawling her eyes out because her father was a dick. And he still had the need to take care of her, because who else would? His sister wouldn’t do any better than him. She’d turn mama bear and break some shit. That was out.
So that left him keeping his mouth shut and taking care of her himself. As much as it warmed him to have his family here, he had to take care of the one that couldn’t take care of itself just yet.
He stepped off the threshold and went to where his mother had taken up residence next to Wade, who sprawled on the porch chair, a water bottle dangling between his fingers. His blue eyes were clear.
“You scare her off already?” Wade asked. “That didn't take long.”
Knowing his friend was pulling his leg, Porter scratched his eyebrow with his middle finger. His mother narrowed her eyes but didn’t say anything. He said to his friend, “I thought finding your other half was supposed to mellow you.”
“My other half isn't here.” Wade sighed then made a face. “She's helping someone else get their career together. I miss her and it makes me grumpy. How the mighty have fallen and all that.”
Too amused by the ramble, Porter patted his friend's shoulder. “It happens to the best of us.”
His friend's gaze narrowed. “You?”
“Make a to-go plate,” Porter replied and focused on his mother.
She’d twisted her kinky curls for the occasion and set them free. She looked happy for him. He’d never truly realized how lucky he’d been until now.
“Porter,” his mother chided, “be nice. Wade, behave, you troublemaker.”
“I don’t play nice with Wade, and he doesn’t either. When are you going to accept that?”
“Never,” his mother said.
He wanted to linger in this moment, but he couldn’t. “It’s time for everyone to head out.”
Like any smart woman, she glanced toward the house. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he let the lie roll out without guilt. “The day has just been long. There’s enough leftovers for everyone to take a plate home.”
She stood and patted his cheek. “I’ll round everyone up. Go check on her.”
He cupped her face then placed a kiss on her forehead. “Thanks, mom.”
Wade said, “Awww. He loves his mommy.”
Porter laughed. “You’re an ass.”
His mother sighed, a sound he knew all too well.
He shrugged. “Kick him out first, mom.”
She shook her head, but turned to Wade. Knowing his mother would get everyone shuffled out without too much fuss, he went back into his home to find Iris. She wasn't in the downstairs restroom.
He closed the bedroom door and crept to his bathroom. He leaned against the doorjamb and knocked. “You okay in there?”
The toilet flushed and the sink turned on. He already knew she’d open the door, fake a smile and hoped he didn’t ask about her nose and eyes being red. Six months—no, three months ago, he would have let her. His friends were all the trouble he courted in his life. He preferred a no-drama existence.
How the fuck did he end up here?
The door opened, and there was the fake smile. The scent of vanilla and almonds reached out to him, and yeah. That’s how he ended up here. Lust had bypassed logic and principles. He’d wanted to run his hands o
ver her naked skin. He wanted to lick and bite every inch of flesh. That sure as shit hadn’t changed.
Only it was worse now. He wanted to protect her, protect their baby. In the scheme of things, he barely knew her and she had him all twisted up on the inside.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said.
He brushed his thumb over his bottom lip, as though he could still taste her on his fingers. “Like what?”
“You left the get-together.”
“I gave them the boot. You seemed like you needed a break.”
Something like lust flashed in her gaze. He shifted forward. She stepped back. “I guess I should go too. I met your mother.”
“And?”
“I think she held a whole conversation with my belly button, so I guess I pass muster.”
Sounded about right with his mother. “She’s a good parent. If I can be half as decent, then everything will be all right.”
“That’s it? You believe it and that makes it so?”
“I didn’t say it would be easy. Nothing worth fighting for is.” He thought about his next step in making her feel better and the thought might have bypassed logic. He tugged the dress. When she didn’t budge, he fisted it and dragged her to him. “We didn’t get a chance to talk about what happened this morning.”
Her breasts rose at her sharp intake of breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That presents a problem.”
She didn’t try to free herself, only looked into his eyes. “What’s the problem, Porter?”
“We weren’t done.”
She huffed. “After the day I’ve had, you’re coming on to me?”
“After the day you’ve had, I’m offering you something you want without strings.”
She sighed, pressing her hands to his chest. “Why should I say yes?”
“Because you want a reason to, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me that question.”
Iris leaned back. “Fucker.”
He laughed. “Why?”
“Because you cut through the bullshit I like to tell myself.”
“You want bullshit? Fine. Us having sex is getting every bit of reckless out of our system before Junior gets here.”
“Should I be worried you’re good at this?”
He cupped her cheeks. “Are you really going to go find someone to scratch any of your itches? Or will it be a very long nine months?”
She cocked her head back. “I was in your bathroom crying, not more than five minutes ago, and now I want to rip off your clothes with my teeth. Pregnancy has turned me into this irrational person.”
Five minutes ago he’d been worried about her, and now he wanted her to do the same ripping of clothes. What did that make him? “Irrational?”
She slid her hands down then tucked them behind her back as though that would ensure she’d keep her hands to herself. “Before all of this, I had my shit together. I had a job I loved with the promise of more opportunity.
My apartment was small but only because I had a full-time life and cleaning for ages wasn’t on my to-do list. Didn’t feel comfortable enough to get a bigger place and hiring a maid to come in once a week. I own my own car and it’s new. And now I’m crying in bathrooms and tempted to pen you up against the wall because I think I could talk you into touching my boob.”
He brushed his thumbs along her cheekbones. They were still damp from her tears. “You still have a job you love. You can afford a bigger place and a maid to come in once a week. You have your own means of transportation. And you have me, a man, willing to touch more than your boob. All you have to do is say the word. Shit, just say three.”
“What words?”
“Touch me, Porter.”
She brought her hands up to his wrist and held onto him, closing her eyes. “Porter, if we do this, don’t expect more.”
He licked her bottom lip. Her eyes shot open. He said, “I recall this speech. Don’t fall in love with you, right?”
She blushed. “Did I say that?”
She didn’t blush often enough. He loved it. “You did while naked and straddling me.”
“And that’s the woman I am. Used to be. It’s going to be me once my body and brain are mine again.” She tightened her hold on his wrists. “Just asking, but shouldn’t we wait until we know for sure we’re alone? The last thing I need today is for your mother to see me naked because she wanted to say a quick goodbye.”
He hated to check. That would give her time to change her mind, but if it reassured her enough to get naked in his bed…
Buffy + Angel
Given the gleam in Porter’s eye, Iris had five minutes—tops—to change her mind, because if she didn’t before he strode back into his room, she doubted she’d keep her hands off him.
Five minutes. It was too long and not long enough. She had a laundry list of reasons to not succumb to their mutual attraction. The biggest reason was about the size of a turnip and upending their lives without trying or meaning to.
But she wanted Porter. Wasn’t that enough for the moment? No one would get hurt as long as they ended the affair before the baby came. They’d move on, be parents, and live their lives together but separately.
Or maybe it was all a rationalization, bullshit she was telling herself just to get off.
She really wanted to get off. Sweat out some of the toxins leftover from her father’s words. Fuck away the hurt for a little while.
She wanted to be Iris before her life turned upside down. That Iris would have sex with Porter, and worry about the consequences later.
The stairs creaked. Her heartbeat skipped. Another second, and her five minutes were up. Porter strolled through his bedroom door, his focus fixed on her. Then he collided into her, balling a hand in her hair as his mouth closed on hers.
He hadn’t kissed her like this in the hotel room. Those kisses had been a light peck in comparison.
Porter stretched her mouth wide and tongued her deep enough she could only breathe him in return.
She pushed him back, and he went willingly. “Hard, fast, Porter. We can go slow round two.”
“Round two?”
“The first time is nothing to write home about.”
No laugh followed. His hand turned into steel and her scalp stung. His mouth found hers again, urgent, rough. Yes. This is what she’d needed. That need was deeper and sharper than anything she’d ever felt.
She popped the button on his jeans, dragged his zipper down next and shoved her hands into his boxers.
He groaned into her mouth. “Careful.”
“I don’t want careful.”
He broke the kiss, dropped his hands to her ass and lifted her. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, bringing her mouth back down on his. And, yeah, her stomach did a flip he could pick her up so effortlessly.
The moment her back hit the bed, she fought to get his boxers over his hips while he discarded his shirt. She’d forgot how wonderful his thighs were. Sleek with muscle, peppered with hair, and it all led up to his narrow hips, a flat stomach and nipples that begged to be bitten.
Her palms itched to run her hands over all of him, detailing everything that made him Porter. Later, she promised herself. “Just pants and panties for me,” she told him, her breath heavy and fast. “We can get me fully naked later.”
He flashed her a smile then pulled them both off at the same time with a hard tug. She gasped when he pressed his thumb into her. Her cheeks flushed. She was wet enough for him to sink into her with ease.
“Fuck,” he murmured.
“Yes. What I want. Now.”
He grabbed her legs, resting them on his forearms, but his attention remained between her thighs. He shifted his hips until she could feel the tip of his cock along her entrance. It had been months since she’d felt the slick, thick slide of a real cock inside her.
Desperate for just that, she moaned, “Porter.”
He pushed her legs back and thrust deep into her. “F
uck. Fuck. You feel too damn good.”
Her toes curled and tension knotted low in her stomach. She reached for him, digging her nails into his back and her other hand grabbed hold to the headboard. She was going to need both anchors if that was the beginning of her orgasm. He closed his hand on her ankle, pushing her leg back more. His next stroke made her cry out in pleasure.
“Thought it was just me,” he said then groaned.
Porter picked up the pace and groaned deeper, almost a growl with each thrust. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. That was until he ground against her, rubbing his pelvis against her clit like he couldn’t be deep enough.
Her atoms vibrated. She was coming before she could fully understand what the flash of heat and pleasurable pain meant. There was no stopping the sobbing scream. She was still trembling a minute later when her vision stopped blurring. Porter’s head was cocked back, exposing his Adam’s apple. He was still growl-grunting low in his throat and she could almost feel the rumble in her clit.
Her body curled into him as another orgasm grabbed her. “I’m going to come again,” she said, amazed and half out of her mind. “Fuck, Porter. I’m...”
He brought his dark gaze down to look right into her, and then his mouth slammed down on hers. She felt the change, the shift from his dick being hard to rock hard then hot. She squeezed him with her inner muscles to hold him inside her, to experience the full brunt of him as he continued to piston his hips in a punishing pace.
Then they were both coming.
Felt like forever before she could turn her face from his and try to gulp in air. His mouth brushed against her neck. She shuddered because that brief contact almost hurt it felt so good.
“Do that again,” she said.
His laugh tickled against her skin but he ran his tongue along the column of her neck. He untangled his arms from her legs to rest on his forearms. “Again? I think my heart stopped there for a minute.”
Her laugh turned into a moan as he used teeth. “Might as well, since you’re still inside me.”
“Right. Round one. Fuck.” He shifted his head to wipe at the sweat on his face. “Give me a second. There’s ringing in my ears.”