I set my cell on the dining slash coffee slash studying table.
My apartment is a decent size for Brentwood, but that isn't exactly huge. The main room is cozy.
He raises a brow. "Someone you want to talk to?"
"Checking in with Sandy."
"Did she tell you to sleep with me?"
"Yeah. How did you know?"
"It's not the first time."
I can't help but laugh. "You're that irresistible?"
"You did invite me here."
He is. And he knows it.
Usually, that annoys me.
But I kind of like it on him.
Walker.
The tattooed, slutty sci-fi fan.
He's intriguing.
Too intriguing. I'm not opening myself up to heartbreak again.
I know I shouldn't stereotype, but the tattoos and the man-whoring don't suggest stable, supportive boyfriend material.
Then again, clean-cut guys haven't exactly been good to me.
I move to the kitchen—it's on the other side of the coffee table—and grab a glass. "You want water?"
"Sure."
I pour two glasses and hand one to him.
He's smiling.
"What?"
"Women don't usually offer water."
"That's bad strategy."
"Yeah?"
"You need to stay hydrated if you want peak performance."
He chuckles. "True."
"You keep laughing."
"With you."
"With me?"
"I promise. I like you, Iris." He takes a long sip and sets his glass on the table. He moves toward me. Closer. Closer.
There.
He peels my fingers from my glass and sets it on the counter.
His hands go to my hips.
He leans in close.
My eyelids flutter together.
I rise to my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
He tastes good. Like whiskey. Fuck, it's been too long since I've really savored a sip.
Or a kiss.
He slides one hand under my blouse and presses his palm against my lower back.
He pulls me closer.
Sucks on my bottom lip. Softly. Then harder.
I bring my hand to his hair. Part my lips to make way for his tongue.
Lust pushes aside every other desire. I don't want good whiskey. Or understanding. Or dinner.
I only want this tall, handsome stranger's body pressed against mine. Erasing every thought in my head.
I slide my hand under his t-shirt. He's hard. Strong.
My hand explores the lines of his torso.
The other knots in his hair.
Desire spreads through my body as his tongue dances with mine.
As he peels off my leather jacket and tosses it on the coffee table.
He cups my breasts with his palm. Slides his thumb into my bra to play with my nipple.
Fuck.
This is intense. It's different like this. Good different. But scary different too.
Slowly, he backs me into the wall.
He pins me with his hips. His tongue plays with mine. His thumb toys with my nipples, one then the other.
I don't know his last name.
And I don't care.
Some free, uninhibited Iris is taking over. No, I know that Iris. It's just she usually only comes out after four or five shots.
He pulls back.
I stare into his eyes. "Bedroom."
He nods. Steps backward to release me.
I move through the living room.
My bedroom is small, but it's nice. I flip the switch for the string lights. The soft glow of the white paper lanterns bounces off my plain grey bedspread and sheets. Off my Ikea vanity and dresser.
They make the room feel homey.
Comfortable.
Like a place for old lovers.
Walker shuts the bedroom door and leans against it. His dark eyes pass over me. He drinks me in.
His eyes find mine. "Take off your jeans."
"What?"
"Your jeans. Lose them."
"No." I press my lips together. Where the hell is this objection coming from? This guy is hot as hell and he's already setting me on fire. I very much want to lose my jeans.
"No?"
"I don't do that."
"You have sex with your pants on?"
"No. I don't do the whole guy barking orders thing." That was Ross's thing. It was always weird. Awkward.
His voice gets light. "Barking?"
"Yeah." I can't help but laugh. Okay, he isn't exactly barking, but the point stands. I copy his posture.
It doesn't work standing.
I sit on the bed and spread my legs in that blow me position guys love.
"Take off your jeans," I demand.
His eyes brighten. "Not sure I need to for that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He takes another step toward me. Drops to his knees between my legs.
"You… you're not one of those guys who doesn't—"
"Fuck no." He presses his palms against my thighs and pushes my legs apart. "You're gonna have to pull me away."
"Yeah?" My tongue slides over my lips. My limbs get light. It's been a long, long time since I've come from someone's mouth.
Longer since I've enjoyed it.
He undoes the button of my jeans. His eyes meet mine. "I don't bark orders."
"Then what was—"
"A request." He looks up at me. "Lift your hips."
"And that's a request?"
"I can't do this with your jeans on."
"True." I lift my hips.
He unzips my jeans and rolls them to my knees. My ankles.
His fingertips skim my skin as he drags his hands up my calves, my knees, my thighs.
His fingers curl into the straps of my thong.
Genius decision. Thank you, past Iris. For once, we're on the same page.
"You're not into dirty talk?" he asks.
"I am. Just not—"
"Ruff. Ruff."
What? I stare back at him.
"That's barking."
I laugh. "You know what I mean."
"I do." He nips at my inner thigh. "Would you like to come on my face?"
"You're teasing me, aren't you?"
He laughs. "Yeah. You're fun to tease." His voice drops. "I'll have to see how fun."
He tugs at the straps of my thong then slides the garment to my ankles.
"I mean it, Iris." He brings his hands to my hips and pulls me to the edge of the bed. "You're gonna have to drag me away."
I try to find a response, but I don't have anything. I want it. Him. Everything.
He places a kiss on the inside of my knee.
I pull my blouse over my head and toss it aside.
Then the bra.
My breath hitches as he drags his lips up my thigh.
Fuck. I'm already buzzing with anticipation.
"Lie back," he mumbles into my thigh. It's softer, but it's still demanding. Needy.
Like he really is desperate to dive between my legs.
I fall onto my back.
Slowly, he brings his mouth to me.
My hand goes to his dark, wavy hair. It's the perfect length for grabbing.
He pins my legs to the bed as he licks me from bottom to top then top to bottom.
He's takes his time.