Darkness at the Edge of Town (Iris Ballard #2)(48)

“So what’s the solution?” I asked.



“Take your joy where you can get it,” she said, biting her lip again. “You ever been with another woman?”

“A drunken kiss. Once.”

“I’ve never told anyone this, but…I prefer women,” she said with a sweet smile. “As a whole, they’re a lot less selfish both outside and inside the bedroom. And breasts. Oh, I love breasts. Their look. Their soft feel. The moans women make when I’m sucking on them. Fondling them. Suckling. Kissing. Licking.” She lightly brushed her own erect nipple. A car crash. I was definitely watching a car crash. “Of course, sometimes there’s nothing better than having a hard cock inside you. Filling you. Stretching you. Gliding in and out of your center like a rock-hard wave.” She fell on her back and sighed. I silently prayed the show was over. “Sorry. I’m getting myself all hot and bothered over here. You probably think I’m a raging nympho or something.”

I truly had no idea what I was thinking or what she was, for that matter. “I think…you’re hitting on me for some reason I’m having trouble figuring out,” I said honestly.

She flipped over to face me again. My eyes instantly fell to her breasts, but I regained control and looked at her face. “How about you’re fucking hot and beautiful?” she chuckled. “Because you’re wound up tighter than a drum and I want to offer you some relief? To help you unleash the real, untamed, sexy-as-fuck Carol screaming to get out? To unshackle you from your Puritan guilt and your husband and society’s brainwashing that made you think you’re not beautiful and shouldn’t want and enjoy sex? To see if you taste like white chocolate and strawberries like I’ve imagined you do? Because I want to see your face as you cum?” She bit her lower lip again. “Or maybe I’m a selfish bitch who wants a crack at you before Paul officially makes his move. Do any of those work for you?”



I stared at Megan, my mouth slightly open in shock. I didn’t know what to say or do. She’d tilted my axis so much I didn’t know which way the escape hatch was. She seemed to believe what she was saying, and maybe it was my ego—it was getting quite the massage—but I guessed if I were to give in to my baser instincts and take her up on her offer, she wouldn’t stop until I was screaming in ecstasy. Maybe she was just a raging nympho who couldn’t help herself. She saw an opportunity and took it. No premeditation or guile involved. She just wanted to get laid and tried her best. Part of me wanted to leave the room, and yes, take a cold shower, but the psychologist in me wanted to see what she’d do next. I didn’t get a chance.

A knock on the door halted observation time. It opened and Paul, to my relief dressed in a towel, peeked his head in. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Megan said, sitting up.

If he cared that she was naked, it didn’t show. He’d probably seen her naked dozens of times. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said.

She grabbed her towel and a peach-colored dress from the bed. “You were…but I forgive you. The shower’s free?”

“Uh, yeah,” Paul said.

“Awesome. You two lovebirds have fun. Just know, Carol, the offer’s always open,” she said with a smirk. She smiled at Paul and whispered in his ear before strutting out, still naked. I wished I had that kind of self-confidence.



I peered at Paul, who smiled awkwardly at me. He was especially cute when he was nervous. He wore a towel, but his sculpted chest was visible and lovely, toned and perfect, save for the obvious cigarette-burn scars on his arms and right above his heart. There was also a long knife mark on his wrist. He’d tried to kill himself at some point. The horror of humanity written on his flesh. I looked away before he figured out what I was doing. I hated when people zeroed in on my scar or tried to. I couldn’t wear low-cut pants or a bikini anymore. I could barely look at my own naked body without reliving Meriwether’s knife plunging in, separating my flesh from itself. The surgery after it. All the unimaginable pain I was in for months as I recovered. I wondered if Paul felt the same when he viewed his scars. I sure as shit wasn’t going to ask.

Paul moved toward the dresser. “Let me guess, she came on to you?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said.

He removed a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. “Sorry about that. We had a bad day. That’s her coping mechanism.”

“And here I thought I was simply irresistible,” I said with a smirk.

He smiled back. Okay, he was just adorable when he smiled. And when he didn’t. “There’s that too.” He held up his clothes. “I’m gonna get dressed now. You seemed uncomfortable before, so if you want to go, I understand. I don’t mind you staying, though.”

Now here was a member whose edict from on high was to make me happy and he was alone, without suspicious minds around. I wasn’t giving up that window of opportunity because I was a little embarrassed. “I’ll just look away,” I said, moving my gaze to the door. I heard his towel drop as he put on his jeans. “You’re not going to chastise me for being uncomfortable with nudity like Megan did?”



“No,” he said behind me.

“And are you going to try to seduce me like she did?”

“Oh, yes,” he said behind me without hesitation.