Young, Allyson - Absolute Perfection [Aspire 3] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Allyson Young

  “Relax. Haley wants this, and it’s our Lifestyle.”

  Iris managed not to struggle in his grip. It was the brooding man. She didn’t have to see his face to know it to be true. He’d been as aware of her as she had been of him, and this wasn’t the time or place to get into a discussion with him about his effrontery. Besides, she needed the support. She watched as if from afar as her sister was secured to some kind of structure and her body prepared for penetration. By both of her husbands. At the same time. Oh my god. If it wasn’t her flesh and blood hanging there, Iris would have found the sight totally arousing and astoundingly beautiful.

  “They won’t use anything on her because she’s pregnant.”

  Iris stiffened. She had no idea what he meant at first and then tumbled to it. Haley had told her about liking erotic pain, describing some of the things her men did to her, and it made Iris’s pussy both clench and tingle even as her brain protested the very idea. She then worried about the double penetration, considering the pregnancy.

  Again, he read her mind. “They’ll be careful with her, Haley’s sister. They love her more than life itself.”

  He was correct, and while Iris looked just above the writhing forms, avoiding some of what transpired, she understood she was bearing witness to an act of deep and abiding commitment as her new brothers-in-law shared their bride, her sister. There was no mistaking Haley’s sexual satisfaction either. Everyone heard it, too.

  She was able to pass the robe back to Gordon afterward, and he wrapped Haley up before taking her sated form off with Warren, and then Iris extricated herself from brooding man’s hold. She felt curiously bereft, even as he released her. The heat of his erection seemed imprinted on her lower back, and she, too, hadn’t been unaffected by the end of the “ceremony,” her sister’s sexual submission or no. She let her breath out on a long sigh and wondered what to do while she waited on Haley and her husbands. People were drifting off, presumably to their own pleasures, and this felt really awkward.

  “Care to have a drink with me while you wait?”

  Well, crap. Iris was a smart woman, and this guy, while mouth-wateringly hot, was clearly dangerous to any woman’s virtue. She needed to find somewhere to wait and keep her wits about her. “Sure.”

  Okay then. That indeed had been her voice accepting the first step down the road to hell. She let him take her elbow and escort her to the area where refreshments were served.

  * * * *

  George soaked up the feeling of silken skin beneath his fingertips as he walked the woman he knew only as Haley’s sister along with him. His cock was trying to beat its way out of his leathers, and his heart pounded in his temples even as his brain tried to process whatever had just possessed him. He’d watched her try to look nonchalant and hide her anxiety while they all waited for Haley to present herself. He hadn’t even noticed the bride arrive until the sister moved closer to her, so intent was he on imprinting every tiny nuance.

  He hadn’t missed her little nervous chuckle as she processed her surroundings, or her attempt to hide more laughter. He figured he knew what she was thinking and wondering about all the way through the ceremony and felt her fight her arousal, because it was her sister after all up there on display. He loved her sense of rightness. Loved. Well, that was insane. It was just that she looked so much like Jane, from the small, high breasts to the fine ass and coltish legs, not to mention the heart-shaped face with its big blue eyes and the spill of molten-gold hair. There was the resemblance to Haley for certain, but she and Jane could have been sisters. Nearly twin sisters. And his body recognized her. Physical attraction, nothing to do with love. He figured out, some months after Jane left, that he hadn’t loved her. It had been lust and passion, pure and simple. Even if he still wondered what he’d done to drive her away, George also speculated that their marriage had been destined to fail regardless. For a moment he thought he had something in his grasp, a hint of resolution, of closure, but they were in the bar and he turned his attention to the task at hand.

  He gently urged Haley’s sister to have a seat on one of the couches. “What can I get you?”

  “Club soda.”

  He blinked. Jane drank club soda, although only if they were doing a scene and at his insistence. Vodka gimlets were her poison otherwise. “Nothing stronger?”

  “Not tonight. I normally drink red wine, but my senses have taken enough of, uh, well, something already.”

  He didn’t need a translator for that statement and hastened to the bar and got two club sodas and made his way back to her. In that short space of time he realized this woman was actually nothing like Jane, and it gave him a sense of relief. Jane would never have confided a weakness, nor would she have been able to laugh at herself. As he approached, George observed another Dom already moving in, and no wonder. Haley’s sister was the picture of innocence in these surroundings, and anyone would want to train her if that were her interest. George halted suddenly, his feet simply unable to propel him forward at the thought. He forced himself back into action. He wasn’t interested in training this woman. He was showing her common courtesy until someone came to take her home, and he’d keep the wolves at bay while he did it.

  “Casey.” The other Dom looked up from introducing himself, clearly startled, and an expression of annoyance crossed his features, but it was the flash of hatred in his eyes that really struck George. What the fuck? Jarrod Casey had been a member here longer than him, and while they didn’t associate, he couldn’t understand the enmity. Even his business dealings with Casey’s family had been reasonable, although maybe Jarrod hadn’t thought so when George uncovered the link between their business losses and Jarrod’s best friend. That man fled the country to avoid prosecution and none of the assets had been recovered, but the siphoning had at least stopped.

  “Hello, Andreas. She isn’t wearing your collar.” Casey nearly snarled the words at him.

  George felt rather than saw Haley’s sister come to attention as she processed Casey’s comment. Damn it. “I’m her escort.”

  His tone sounded dark and menacing to his ears despite how innocuous the words were. Casey shrugged and backed off, then cut a sly glance at George. “I’m not surprised you’re ‘escorting’ her, Andreas. There’s a remarkable—” Casey’s comment was cut short by a raucous call from just behind him. He jumped and whirled, and George wondered at his startled reaction. It was only a pair of Doms settling the terms of an agreement with a seasoned sub with enthusiasm. Casey seemed uncommonly on edge.

  The other man prepared to take his leave and nodded to Haley’s sister. George watched her drop her eyes. Damn it again. Submissive. Not a clue, but submissive. He was overcome with such a sense of yearning he felt hollow. Years, since Jane left, of putting in time, working hard, socializing only at the club, abstaining from relationships, and then this. And he didn’t even know her goddamn name. He struggled mightily against the draw and then capitulated, sitting beside her and setting the sodas down on the table in front of them. He offered his name with his hand, and the feel of her small, soft palm against his as he engulfed it had him struggling harder. Haley’s sister would probably be totally shocked if he bore her to the floor and let his cock loose.

  “Georgios Andreas.” George never introduced himself that way. His first name was Americanized years ago. But he wanted to hear this woman say it, and say it in her passion as she came beneath him and at his hands and mouth.

  “Iris Snider.”

  “So, Iris Snider, are you just in town for Haley’s wedding?” Please say yes and you’ll be leaving shortly so I can go back to maintaining the status quo. Please say you live here so I don’t have to figure out a believable reason to do business where you actually live.

  “I actually was born and raised here. Both Haley and I were. I was infected with wanderlust, and once I graduated with a degree in tourism, I’ve traveled to elicit firsthand information about places to visit.”

  George watched as she hesita
ted, clearly not certain if she should share something further. She traveled. She would move on, and he would not be faced with making any choices. It would be out of his hands. Destiny. Karma. Her little white teeth nibbled on her full bottom lip, and he wanted to lean over and kiss the sting away.

  “I haven’t told Haley yet, but that job’s being phased out so I’ll be in the office from here on in.” She looked startled and stared at him, as if surprised to have told him.

  “But you aren’t interested in my personal stuff. I’m sorry. I usually don’t share with strangers.” Her flustered affect made George’s cock harder. She was already responding to him, her beta to his alpha. He was doomed. He made a concerted effort to tear his eyes away from her face and keep his hands from touching her anywhere.

  She clearly felt his withdrawal, and an expression of regret flashed across her features. He’d hurt her, shown her his reticence or something, and she was very sensitive, in tune, and she’d make him a perfect submissive. Damn it. He had to get gone.

  “Iris.” Gordon’s voice permeated their little tableau, and George was on his feet, both relieved and annoyed.

  “Congratulations, Gordon. Both you and Warren. Haley is lovely.”

  “She is that,” Gordon answered complacently. “We are blessed. Thanks for taking care of Iris.”

  The big man turned to her and offered a courtly hand, and George wanted to punch him as Iris took it and stood. “Sorry, honey. I should have arranged something for you while we took care of Haley. You’ve been so great these past few days I forget you aren’t in the Lifestyle.”

  “Not to worry, Gordon. Georgios was kind enough to explain a little to me and then brought me a drink.”

  “Georgios? Oh, right. George is Greek. Well thanks, my man. If you’re ready, Iris?”

  She gave George a little speaking glance of thanks and then dropped her eyes. Gordon didn’t miss it, and if George was less than a Dom, he might have quailed before the light in the other man’s eyes. He was protective of his sister-in-law and George didn’t doubt Gordon knew about Jane and what had happened and wasn’t letting him near Iris just on principle. It was the perfect opportunity to escape, and George should have grabbed it with both hands.

  “I’d like to call you, Iris.” George momentarily wondered who had said it. Gordon stood tall, but Iris adroitly stepped between them. In tune. She might not even know she was defusing something. It probably came naturally. That hollow feeling washed over his insides again, and he held his breath.

  “I’m staying at the Hilton.”

  “You could stay with us.” Gordon was interfering.

  “I’m not staying with my sister while she’s on her second honeymoon with two husbands, Gordon.”

  Gordon laughed, although he bent another dark look on George. “Point taken, honey.”

  George hated that he called her honey. “I’ll call you tomorrow then, Iris.”

  He watched her walk away from him and longed to run her down, pick her up and carry her back to his home even as he told himself to be patient. Gordon was going to warn her against him, and Warren would probably do the same. Shit. But then she’d refuse his calls, and it would be for the best. George went back to the bar and ordered a real drink and sat uncomfortably until his cock reluctantly accepted she was gone even if her looks, her scent, and her feel were all emblazoned on his brain.

  Chapter Three

  Iris paced her hotel room then dashed to the closet for the third time. She was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, and wasn’t that one of her mom’s ancient sayings? Georgios had called her just before breakfast, and she’d accepted an invitation to dinner. She was as bewildered about her choice of clothing today as she had been at the club. What did one wear to dinner with a Dom? Haley was in no space to ask. She’d been asleep in Warren’s arms in the backseat of Gordon’s big sedan last night, and Iris hadn’t liked to call her today. It felt a little awkward. Gordon made small talk on the way to the Hilton, and she had the impression he wanted to speak to her about Georgios. Iris hadn’t been blind to the little dominant byplay between the two men, over her. But he didn’t say anything, and Iris figured he would talk with Haley and Warren first. She was in awe of their relationship. Such incredible communication. However, the end result was that she felt quite out of her depth.

  She’d spent the day with her boss, sorting out her new job parameters, and got in touch with a real estate friend to find out what the vacancy rate was for apartments. She managed to tuck most of her thoughts about Georgios away as she focused on the immediate, but he was always there in the background in her head. She lay awake after Gordon dropped her off and thought about the evening’s events, but she kept coming back to how Georgios felt pressing against her back, and the strength of his arm around her waist. He smelled like sandalwood and man, and she thought she would fall right into the depths of his dark eyes, darker even than his hair. She bet he kept it short so that it wouldn’t curl. If he was hers, she’d tease him into letting it grow a little. If he was hers! Talk about getting ahead of herself. He wore no jewelry that she could see, especially not a wedding ring, and Iris accepted that she’d hoped, no, wanted him to call her. Here she was, back in town after all this time and maybe falling for somebody within the first week. Iris hoped it wasn’t the influence of Haley’s happiness causing her to get dreamy-eyed about Georgios Andreas. She hoped it wasn’t the influence of the club, because she definitely had not really appreciated Haley’s Lifestyle before. But, if she was honest with herself, he made her panties wet, and the orgasm she’d given herself before finally falling asleep left her with his name on her lips.

  She replaced her more casual outfit with a little black dress and paired it with some peep-toed high-heeled shoes. The lovely lingerie was a gift from Haley, and Iris reveled in the silky feel of it against her skin. She was still tan from her time in Italy and eschewed the thigh-high stockings. After clasping a heart-shaped locket on a fine chain and fastening a pair of diamond studs in her ears, she felt ready. Unless Georgios was late and she had time to change. An authoritative knock on the door made her stomach flip, and Iris stared at the door for a long minute before making her feet move forward. She fumbled with the handle and finally managed to push it down. The lock disengaged and she pulled it open. Georgios stood there wearing a well-cut dark suit with a dark-blue shirt and subdued burgundy tie. But it was the thunderous look on his face that caught Iris’s attention and she took an involuntary step backward, her hand clinging desperately to the edge of the door for support.

  He closed the gap, effortlessly easing the heavy door from her grasp and letting it shut behind them with a thud. “You didn’t ask who it was.”

  “Excuse me?” Iris was too busy cataloguing her body’s response to his proximity to really hear the statement. He smelled of sandalwood just as she remembered, and his dark features looked hewn from stone. She felt small and fragile despite her height, enclosed by his warmth and presence. She felt a rush of arousal so strong her knees grew weak.

  “You opened the door without asking for identification!”

  “Oh. But you said you were coming at seven and it’s nearly that now.” Iris’s protest made his eyes smoulder and his sculpted mouth set. Her pussy clenched hard, and her juices flowed. He was so masculine, virile, dangerous. She wasn’t afraid exactly, but she knew she was in trouble and it made her nervous. Haley told her Doms wouldn’t tolerate anything that put their subs at risk and meted out punishment for poor choices on their part. But she wasn’t a sub, or at least not this man’s sub, so she lifted her chin and gave him a glare.

  He caught her by the shoulders and pulled her against him. Oh, oh. Iris knew she should protest and tell him where to get off, to back off, but her brain seemed dazed, probably overcome with the same incapacitating lust her body had surrendered to.

  “I won’t tolerate you putting yourself at risk, Iris. Opening the door without checking is a stupid thing to do
.”

  Iris heard the word, and it helped her gain control over her arousal. She wasn’t going to let anyone call her stupid, and she opened her mouth to retaliate when he moved her in one fell swoop to the bed where he sat on the edge and draped her across his lap. Her mouth shut with a startled snap as the carpet very nearly came in contact with her forehead and one of her shoes fell off to thump to the floor. She felt the skirt of her dress being hiked up and her legs secured between his, his heavy arm across the small of her back holding her immobile. The flat of his hand came down on her buttocks in the next instant, and she shrieked at the sensation.

  “You’ll take ten for your actions.”

  Holy crap, this guy was nuts. As if he read her mind, Georgios’s whole body went rigid, matching the state of his erection beneath her hip. He lifted her from him and helped her to stand, tugging her skirt back into place. He then got to his feet and went to take a place by the door. His face was blank, but his eyes were turbulent with emotion. They faced one another for several seconds before he broke the silence.

  “I beg your pardon.” There was a faint hint of an accent in the stilted tone.

  Iris eyed him warily and then giggled. She couldn’t help herself. It was a totally bizarre situation. The giggles turned to laughter, and she watched Georgios’s face tighten further and then suddenly relax. His lips twitched, and he, too, chuckled. It seemed a little forced at first, but then she heard him laugh out loud. She gulped her hilarity into submission and managed to form a coherent sentence.

  “Maybe we should start over.”

  Georgios raised one eyebrow, his laughter fading, and she stared at him, fascinated by his resemblance to a dark lord. She had to stop reading all those romance novels with the tantalizing covers.

  “Start over?”

  “Yes. Go out into the hall and knock again.”

  He had a bemused look on his face, but he shrugged and turned to pull the door open and exit the hotel room. Iris wondered if he would just keep right on going to escape the insanity, but the knock came after a brief hesitation.