The Iris Boys Series

by Smoke, Lucy

  I bit my lip, looking down at him. “I…”

  “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” he whispered, his voice lowering.

  My breathing was ragged, and something was there. I felt it. An electric zing between us or...it was something, I knew it. I just didn’t know what it was. I found myself nodding, despite my uncertainty. No matter what, I trusted Bellamy. I trusted him just as much as I trusted Marv, Knix, and Texas. That thought had barely entered my mind only to be shoved out just as Bellamy’s warm hands slid into the sides of my underwear and pulled them down my legs. I held my legs closed as he tossed them to the side, but he gently urged them back around his hips again.

  “Don’t worry, we can go slow. I won’t do anything more tonight, just...let me help you,” he whispered, brushing against my lips again.

  I closed my eyes and let him kiss me once more. I felt so safe in his arms, protected and cherished. It wasn’t something I was used to feeling and in the last month I had felt it almost every day. I was on overload. I felt like, in this moment, Bellamy could have asked me anything and I would have bared my soul for him. Even if it hurt.

  Our mouths connected, and his jean-clad groin rubbed against my naked skin. I shuddered, gripping his shoulders, pulling on him, arching up to grind back. I reached down, sliding my hand over his chest and down his abdomen. He was rock solid, all over. It made me kiss him harder.

  I felt the hard strain of his jeans and when my knuckles grazed against it, he jerked and grabbed my hand. "No," he said, panting.

  "I want to–" Bellamy cut me off by grabbing my other hand as I reached for him again. He held both of my wrists and then transferred them to one of his hands. His fingers closed around my limbs, making me feel dainty and small.

  "No, Sweetheart." His voice was so gruff, I could barely understand him. He cleared his throat. "If you touch me, I'll go off like a teenage boy."

  "I'm a teenager," I pointed out.

  "Barely," he said. "And you're not a guy. We're not always known for our...stamina."

  "Are you saying you can't keep up?" I teased.

  Bellamy chuckled, releasing my hands. "I can keep up with you," he said, nipping at my bottom lip. My belly tightened, and down lower, sparks of heat popped. "But I didn't bring any protection tonight. I don't want to risk anything."

  "Oh." My gaze drifted downward, and Bellamy hooked a finger under my chin. Nudging me back up, he pressed a quick kiss to my lips.

  "That doesn't mean we can't do other things," he said. His warm hands pressed between my legs again, fingers sliding against my naked flesh. I gasped and lifted into his touch. "Will you let me?"

  I gasped as he slid a lone finger into me. I tightened around it and his eyes flared as he stared down at me.

  "You're so goddamn beautiful, Sweetheart." He kissed me again, taking my mouth fast and hard.

  My breasts swelled as he began to pump his finger in and out. Slowly, Bellamy added a second finger and then a third. The third was a tight fit and I involuntarily clenched him even harder. He groaned and moved them in and out of me slower.

  One wide palm slid over my stomach and I shivered as goosebumps rose to meet his hand. He moved up and skimmed over my bra. Dark brown eyes shot to mine as he closed his hand around one breast and squeezed through my bra cup. Shivers coursed over my shoulders as Bellamy looked at me. He watched me as his fingers brushed at the edges and he slipped beneath the material. Fingertips closed over one nipple and I jerked. His mouth met mine again, muting my gasp and I closed my eyes, feeling the shocking waves of pleasure. His fingers continued to pump inside me. I shuddered, my hips undulating on their own. I couldn't stop even if I wanted to.

  I didn't want to. I wanted more. My hands held onto Bellamy's broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin. The harder I dug, the hotter his eyes flamed. Hovering over me, like he was, I barely felt the breeze coming through the open window. My eyes flicked to it, scared that someone might be able to hear us from the outside when he hit something deep inside of me, and I gasped – window forgotten – choking on a scream as sparks snapped through my body. Releasing a low groan, a wave of shock had the smallest black and white dots dancing behind my eyelids that were shut against the sensations.

  Bellamy let go of my mouth with a gasp – mine, I realized. I couldn't seem to stop doing that. Gasping. Groaning. Moving against his hand. His thumb came up, brushing and pushing against the bundle of nerves there and I blinked as fireworks exploded. I didn't care if my nails were drawing blood, I needed to hold onto something or I knew I'd be rocketed up and out into space. He was my gravity, my anchor to earth in that moment.

  When I finally came down, I realized that Bellamy had withdrawn his hand and was holding me on his side. He stroked my hair with his lips at my temple and I shivered, my whole body tensing again and again as I slowly descended from my peak of euphoria. He pulled back and looked down at me.

  "Are you okay?" he asked. I opened my mouth, but words wouldn't form. All I could do was nod. "Good." His eyes crinkled with his smile and suddenly, it hit me what had just happened. What I had just done. Now I couldn't speak for a different reason. When Bellamy scooted down further in the bed and pulled me close to cuddle against my skin, I let him. Fear and pain encased my heart. What would happen now? I pressed my face against Bellamy's chest, hoping he didn't feel my tears, but sure he could – he didn't have a shirt. He didn't say anything though, and for that, I was grateful.

  I would need to tell the guys sooner or later. They deserved to know. A kiss was one thing, but this had been so much more. The problem was I knew they'd kick me out. Maybe not out of Iris, but out of the team and that was the worst of it. The thought of not being able to see them, of not cuddling with Marv at night, not playing pranks with Bellamy and Texas, of not training with Knix...it was like all of my limbs were being severed. Why did it feel this way? I had known them for such a short time, but already it felt like we had lived lifetimes together and I was about to destroy all of that.

  Chapter 14

  I couldn't remember when Bellamy had left the night before, but I knew that I hadn't really slept. I was exhausted and must have looked it, because when I showed up for brunch Delilah pulled me to the side.

  "Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes crinkling in concern.

  I quickly wiped beneath my eyes with my finger. Sure enough, they felt puffy. "I'm fine," I lied. "Just couldn't sleep last night."

  She raised an eyebrow, not convinced. "Do you need to take a rain check today?" she asked. "I can ask Ms. Enders. It'll suck, we won't get another chance to leave before the party, but I'm sure she'll–"

  "Leave?" I asked, confused.

  "Yeah," she said. "You didn't know? We're going into town today."

  Had I known that? Probably. "I'm sorry, I forgot. No, you don't need to talk to her. I'm fine." I brushed past her and made my way into the lounge where the tables were preset, and everyone was already in their own designated seats. I went to my table, feeling Delilah's eyes on my back. It was only the twins and I today. It looked like the only other girl who shared our table was either sick or had decided to skip brunch.

  Ms. Enders entered the room, looking the picture of regal grace in a sheath dress and short kitten pumps. She addressed the ladies from the front of the room, her naturally severe, yet beautiful face flushed as she relayed her excitement. We were going into the upscale, small town of Pineville in order to get fitted for our dresses for the cotillion – or pseudo-cotillion. At this point, I couldn't find it in myself to care what it was called.

  When Mr. Wallace entered the room, I almost slapped myself. I was here for a reason, and that reason was not to mope over my own stupid choices. I was here to find a criminal – a blackmailer...a potential rapist. There had already been one suicide. I looked around the room at the girls. I didn't know all of them. Hell, I didn't know ninety percent of them, but I still felt responsible for them. I straightened my back and resolved to finish this up – a
nd quickly if I could. We were already halfway through this camp. I looked around, seeing if Margarie was nearby. Now, knowing that she was his daughter, I wondered why she chose to work for Ms. Enders rather than attend with the girls. Another thing Delilah had pointed out to me earlier in the week was that even though the etiquette courses sucked big time, they were a good way for the girls to network. These girls weren't just ordinary teenagers. They were the daughters of rich and powerful people. They would likely end up going to the best colleges, marrying into the upper echelon of any community they chose. Their connections and friends were a network of the wealthy, famous, and powerful.

  "Ladies," Ms. Enders called across the room. "As you all know, you will be going on a little trip today. Well, I have a wonderful surprise for you. Unfortunately," I watched as her face tensed slightly while Mr. Wallace remained completely unreadable, "I won't be able to join you as I usually would. Mr. Wallace has agreed to see you into Pineville. I hope that you'll all give him your attention and mind his regulations. We do ask that you stay together in groups. You are, after all, young ladies and under our care. Please take care not to stray from the group and to keep Mr. Wallace aware of your whereabouts if you choose to take some free time and shop at the local boutiques."

  Ms. Enders finished with a few reminders on table manners as we would be staying in town for dinner at what Isador and Natalia called La Maison, a French restaurant. I glanced at Mr. Wallace out of the corner of my eye. Delilah had said he was militant with his boys. I would be surprised if he didn't quiz us on our table manners and the proper use of utensils. I looked down at the silverware with irritation. Thankfully, though, brunch ended without a Mr. Wallace intervention and we were all escorted into several stretch limos to head to town.

  The seats were warm leather and some of the girls popped a bottle of champagne and poured the glasses. "Um, aren't we all underage?" I asked. Even Natalia, Isador, and Delilah laughed.

  "Don't worry," Delilah said, handing me a glass. "No one is going to tell."

  "I'm so glad Mr. Wallace went with the other limo," Isador said, leaning back against the door as she put her heel clad feet on her sister's lap.

  Natalia grimaced and shoved her off. "Silk, Isa," she snapped. "I'm wearing silk." Isador laughed but didn't put her feet back up as she sipped her champagne.

  I stared down at my glass of champagne and, remembering how sore my muscles had been after the "extra training" Knix had ordered, I lightly handed it off to someone else, hoping Natalia, Isador, and Delilah didn't notice.

  "Me too," one of the other girls, whose name I didn't know, said with a groan, responding to Isador's relief. "He's old and a stick in the mud."

  "You're just mad that you can't bat your eyes at him and get whatever you want like you do with your daddy, Lindsey," Delilah snapped. The girl in question wore an expensive, floral, wrap dress with nude heels with red bottoms. She rolled her eyes at Delilah and drank more champagne.

  It didn't take long for us to reach Pineville. Apparently, other than the larger cities, the majority of upper New York was a hunter and fisher's paradise. Pineville was quaint but sequestered. Though it was upscale, which was obvious in the whitewashed buildings and classically antique little houses here and there, it was still quite small. The limos pulled up at the end of the main street – the street with the most shops and businesses – and everyone got out. Several of the girls from our limo teetered on their heels including Isador and the other girl, Lindsey, both of whom were obviously already tipsy.

  My gaze shot to Mr. Wallace as he stepped out of his limo. His hard eyes and enigmatic face were stone cold. Delilah gripped my hand and tugged me after her. I was starting to feel very thankful that she had taken me under her wing when I arrived. Having a friend was good for blending in, yes, but really, sometimes, I needed someone who was much more knowledgeable about all of this stuff than I was.

  "Come on," she called behind her, "they get free time first, we're heading to the shop first to get fitted."

  "Hi Angel," Delilah said with a bright smile as we entered through the tinkling glass front door. The shop was a small boutique with an elegant African American woman at the counter. The place smelled like coconut and lavender and I loved it the moment I inhaled. There were fabrics on every wall, tapestries bearing obviously hand-woven scenes.

  "Good to see you again, Dee," the young woman – Angel – said. "Who's this?" She graced me with a smile that seemed to shine right out of her face.

  "This is Harley," Delilah introduced. I blinked, confused for a moment, then nearly stumbled over myself to offer my hand as I recognized my pseudonym. After the night before with Bellamy, my whole brain had apparently been fried if I couldn't even remember my fake name. It was only two letters off from my real name for God's sake!

  "Hi," I said hesitantly, offering my hand. Angel took it and then held it for a moment.

  "Wow," she said. "I've never seen eyes with gold in them before."

  "What?" I blinked.

  "Your eyes. They're brown, but you've got these interesting light swirls of gold in them. They're quite pretty." She let my hand go.

  "Oh," I said dumbly. "Thank you." I felt a flush rise to my face and Delilah laughed. Thankfully, the twins saved me from further embarrassment.

  "Angel!" Isador cried, diving head first across the counter to hug the other woman. Angel chuckled as she hugged the girl back and then set her down. When she rounded the counter, Natalia was next.

  "We haven't seen you in forever!" Natalia said with a pout. "I thought I told you to call us the next time you were in Barcelona. I have it on good authority that you were there last winter."

  Angel smirked. "Who told you I was in Barcelona?" she asked. "I was in Milan, not Barcelona."

  "Milan?" Delilah asked. "What were you there for?" Her face brightened with excitement. "Oh, my goodness! Did you get the contract?" Angel smiled and nodded, and Delilah whirled to me. "Angel's a model," she gushed. "She's been working out a modeling contract with an international agency for months." She swung back to Angel. "Why are you here if you got the contract?"

  With a shrug, Angel moved towards an open doorway with a gold chain linked across. She unhooked it and we followed her into the room. "Gran is having some surgery. I offered to help since I'm in the states for the next few days. You actually caught me at a great time. I'm leaving tomorrow."

  "Oh?" Delilah bounced alongside her as we entered a long hallway that had a couple of smaller rooms on either side. Angel withdrew a key and unlocked one before letting us in. "Do tell, where are you going?"

  Angel moved towards a tall elegantly carved wardrobe as the twins collapsed on a purple cushioned settee. As I glanced around, I realized that the entire room was an eclectic mix of colors. The walls were an antiqued, floral lined wallpaper. Not one of the chairs and settees were the same color or shade. In the middle of the room, there was a short, white circular stage set in front of a tri-fold mirror edged in what looked to be pure bronze. Somehow, it all worked together to create a unique and homey space.

  “I’m heading to NYC,” Angel said. “So not far, but in a couple of weeks I’ll be flying to London for a photo shoot.”

  “Wow, how exciting,” I said.

  Angel threw a smile over her shoulder at me before turning back to rummage through the wardrobe. “I’m not as well traveled as I’d like to be,” she admitted. “I’ve only been out of the country a couple times and only to Italy.”

  “Hey, Harley,” Natalia called, “have you ever been out of the country?”

  “Uh, no,” I admitted. “This is actually the first time I’ve been out of the Carolinas.”

  “Oh, really? Your dad’s never taken you with him on any business trips?” she asked, glancing at Isador. “Our dad took us all the time when we were younger.”

  I barely resisted the urge to flinch. “No,” I said quietly. Thankfully, Natalia and Isador fell into a different conversation and Angel and Delilah did the same. I
sat in a wing-backed chair in the corner and watched the four of them chat.

  I was exhausted by the time the girls were done with their dresses. Even I had one, apparently. It was a long shimmering purple sheath dress with a beaded back. I suspected it had been Marv who had called to order it to be made. The moment it settled over my curves, I had loved it, but I had to remind myself that this was all make believe. It was just pretend. I wasn’t really going to a cotillion – those things were meant for southern belles anyway. It was just an excuse Ms. Enders used to get these girls together and prepare them for their real world. And their real world was vastly different than my own.

  “Are you okay?” Delilah asked as we exited the shop, waving goodbye to Angel and wishing her well on her lucky travels.

  “Yeah,” I said, shaking my head to get rid of some of the fog that had started to form. “I’m fine. Why?”

  Before she could answer someone was calling out. “Hey! Harley! Harley!” Shocked that someone would be calling out my fake name, I turned and nearly swallowed my tongue.

  “Oh my,” Delilah gasped, “please tell me that’s your brother. If that’s your brother, I can marry him.” After what had occurred the night before with Bellamy, I should not have been entertaining jealousy. But in that moment, I wanted to put a paper bag over Marv’s gorgeous head so that Delilah and the twins would stop looking at him like they wanted to eat him alive. Isador and Natalia were on the curb, looking behind them with knowing smiles and a bit of envy as Marv came up to us, huffing and puffing.

  He looked the picturesque version of the handsome gentleman in light khakis with a brown leather belt and a white and blue checkered dress shirt neatly tucked into his waistband. He bent slightly to catch his breath, then stood up to his full height and yanked me into a quick hug. I shivered at the sensation of his arms closing around me and I could have sworn I heard the girls all sigh behind me.