She moves her mouth just in time as thick spurts land all over my stomach and chest. My head spins as I suck in air. Jesus. Considering how hard I came last night, I’m surprised to feel the same kind of intensity again now. And just with her mouth.
And then I realize it’s not the how or how often, it’s the who.
I close my eyes for a moment, and then I feel the scrape of the towel on my abs. When I open them, Iris is cleaning me up. After reaching for her good wrist, I tug her forward, then cup the back of her neck and kiss her soundly. She tastes of me. Smells of me too. It’s fucking hot, and I can feel my just-drained dick stirring again.
“Magic,” I mutter against her lips, and she smiles, making it impossible to kiss her. Her stomach grumbling breaks the silence. “Need to get some food in you.”
“In fairness, I think I’d appreciate that more than you trying to put that in me.” She looks down at my dick and giggles.
Fucking giggles.
I grab her just to fucking hug her, which, I know, is not like me.
I don’t cuddle. Or giggle. Or let the woman I’m with decide when I have sex, because no one controls my dick.
But for her?
Fuck me.
Yeah, I'll do all of it.
When we’re dressed, I lead her to the kitchen.
“Want to make coffee while I search for some food to cook?” she asks.
I was going to offer to make her pancakes, but I like the idea of her cooking for me. Some of the guys are milling about in the kitchen. “Sure thing. Have at it, little chick.” I let go of her hand as she walks to the refrigerator.
“Little chick,” Niro mutters with a laugh.
I punch him in the shoulder so hard he falls off his chair and slides three feet back on the tiled floor.
King laughs, then raises his palms. “Not laughing at the adorable name of your woman.”
“Better fucking not be.”
“Just laughing at the way Niro’s head flopped back as he flew.”
Vex covers his mouth with his hand as he laughs.
“Fuck you, Spark,” Niro says as he climbs up and dusts himself off.
“Does anybody else want frittata if I make some?” Iris asks, her hand on my back.
“If I knew what a frittata was, I might,” Vex answers.
Iris looks up at me. “Always teaching each other, right?” The grin says she’s referring to edging, and I fist her hair before kissing her hard.
I hear the guys make gagging noises and groans, so I flip them the bird.
When I let her go, she turns to Vex. “It’s like an omelet, only it’s baked.”
“I’ll take some, sweet cheeks,” Niro says, sitting back in his chair.
“Same,” King says.
“Me too,” Vex adds.
And suddenly I’m sharing Iris with the three of them while she cracks a shit ton of eggs and fries up a bunch of stuff she found in the refrigerator. Peppers, onions, some chorizo. Once it’s all assembled in a dish, she slips it in the oven.
“So, your uncle?” Vex says to Iris, and I see the color drain from her cheeks.
“What about him?” Iris grips the counter with white knuckles.
Vex glances at me and grins before answering. “He going to remove our boy’s balls when he finds out?”
“You want me to punch Vex too?” I ask Iris.
“Just asking,” Vex says, palms raised in sign of surrender. “What does he think about the two of you?”
“He doesn’t know,” I answer. “Yet.”
King rolls his eyes, then glances at Iris. “This going to bring trouble to the club, Irish?”
I glance over at Iris. Her gaze is lowered. “Nothing in this life is ever certain,” she says, and I’m proud of her. Because it would have been easier to lie.
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t.” When I say this, her eyes meet mine, and there’s something in her gaze I can’t decipher. “I promise, Iris. We’ll be okay.”
29
IRIS
By recess the following Thursday, I’m starved, and when I look around, I realize the neatly packed lunch I made for today is still sitting on my kitchen counter. “Damn it.”
Then I have a thought.
I’m not used to relying on anybody, but I realize I have someone. I pull out my phone and type.
Are you free any time before lunch to help a girl out?
It takes less than minute for him to respond. What do you need, little chick?
I left my lunch on the counter in my kitchen. Any chance you could grab it for me?
What time is lunch?
I tell him and revel in the idea that this man is just going to help me out because he likes me, not because he wants something from me.
And when I hear the roar of his bike during lunch, my heart lurches in my chest. I haven’t seen him since the night we spent at the clubhouse. Club business, he told me. Nothing more. But I realize I’m just glad to know he’s safe.
When I walk to the fence to greet him, I’m taken by just how good he looks. Model-worthy cheeks, and he’s recently washed his hair because it’s down and thick. He grabs my lunch bag and walks toward me with a smile.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he says, placing my lunch on the floor to slide his arms through the bars of the fence and tug me close. His lips are on mine through the gap in the railings before I have the chance to say a word. “Taste good too,” he mutters against my lips.
As much as I enjoy it, I step back and look around.
“What?” he asks.
I shake my head with a grin. “I’m at school, where anybody can see, so I need to be a bit professional.” But it’s too late; we already attracted the attention of my class.
“Who are you?” Thema asks.
Spark looks down at my favorite student. “Spark.”
“That’s not your real name,” Jadyn says, crossing his arms and stepping in front of me, my little protector. My heart melts at the gesture.
“Just because it’s unusual, doesn’t mean it isn’t a real name. We have so many meaningful names in our school, right?” I say.
Jadyn nods solemnly.
“You’re right. My real name is Tyler.”
Harry steps out from behind Thema. “Are your tattoos all real?”
Spark glances down at his hands, where I see a new tattoo. An iris. And my heart melts all over again. “Sure thing. Any other questions?”
Before I know it, we’re surrounded by my kids.
“There’s a kid in grade two who bullies Dylan on the playground,” Thema offers, placing her arm around Dylan’s shoulders.
Spark looks at the eager eyes looking up at him and crouches down. “But you guys have got Dylan’s back, right? Look out for him and shit because—”
“Language,” I remind Spark.
“Oh, Miss O’Connor just told you off.” Jadyn laughs.
“Sorry,” Spark says. “I shouldn’t say that word in front of you. But you all have Dylan’s back, right? You can be your own club. You all look strong and fierce. I bet you could teach that grade two kid a lesson.”
I raise an eyebrow in Spark’s direction. “Or you can just come tell a teacher or adult, and we can sort it out.”