Iris (The Wild Side #2)(11)

I shook my head. I was too old for this shit.

“Coffee?” I asked as we moved through his house. “Is that really someone’s name?”

“The name I gave her. I name them all. Coffee got the name because she actually makes decent coffee. Damn, I miss her. Candy doesn’t even know how to work the machine.”

I laughed. The bastard kind of deserved to have to make his own coffee.

“Oh, man, I almost forgot to tell you,” he called out when I’d reached my car. “That pool party next week—the one I finally got you to agree to come to—I just found out Tammy is piggy backing her way into it, going as the plus one to one of my friends. How do you want me to handle it? Should I ban her? It’s up to you. I never liked her, anyway.”

I found myself blissfully unaffected by this. I waved a careless hand in the air. “It’s up to you. I don’t have a preference. I don’t really care if she comes or not. She’s unpleasant, but I’m past caring about that. Not my problem anymore.”

“Her new man won’t be there, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Not particularly. She’s way more likely to hit on me if he’s not around.”

“That’s right. You hit that several times after she left. How long after? Was there overlap with your Iris?”

“No, no overlap. Several months gap, actually.”

“But you did screw Tammy after you were separated, right?”

I flushed. I might have admitted this to him when we’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk a few weeks ago. “Yeah. Barely.”

“I get it, man. It was like an angry revenge screw, right? You stuck it to the bitch that stuck it to you, and as a bonus, you got to cuckold her new man, just like he’d done to you. A bit of tit for tat.”

He wasn’t wrong, but I still didn’t feel good about it. I liked to think I’d evolved since then, as I was positive I wouldn’t be falling into that messed up pattern again.

I’d found new messed up patterns to obsess about these days.

CHAPTER SIX

I was working at my desk in my office, exactly two weeks and three days since Iris had given me extreme blue balls in a strip mall, when my phone rang.

I glanced at the lit screen of my cell.

It was an unknown number¸ but since Iris, I always picked up, no matter what, though it was never her.

“Hello,” I said into the phone, fully expecting it to be a telemarketer, who I planned to promptly end the call with. This had been the case the last three times I’d picked up an unknown number.

“Dair,” came Iris’ voice, all breathy into my ear.

“Iris,” I said, reclining my office chair enough to give me room to breathe through a suddenly tight air passage. “Where are you?”

“Nowhere close, unfortunately. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

I knew the feeling. I closed my eyes, letting her voice wash over me.

“When will I see you again?” I asked her.

“Soon. Very soon. I . . . can’t stop fantasizing about you.” Her breath caught. “All the time. I’m in the bathroom right now, masturbating again, thinking about what you do to me.”

I pinched the tip of my c**k hard through my clothes.

Phone sex? This was new, but crazy as it was, I wasn’t going to say no.

“What are you wearing?” I asked her, voice rough as I stroked myself over my gym shorts.

“A dress. I’m wearing that little white dress I had on that last time, when you took me on the stairs. Remember it?”

I shifted on the chair until I could yank my dick free.

I fisted myself bare. “Oh yeah.”

“I have the top unbuttoned. I had to sew the part you ripped, but my br**sts are hanging out. My ni**les are hard. I’m watching myself in the mirror, and I have my skirt pushed up. I’m fingering myself over my panties.”

“Shove them to the side, and rub your clit,” I ordered raggedly.

Some gasping on her end told me she was obeying.

“Send me a picture,” I tried.

“I can’t. This isn’t my phone. That would be . . . a very bad idea, but I wish I could. Are you touching yourself?”

I grunted an affirmative, fisting the middle of my shaft, then slowly rubbing up and down.

“I want you inside of me,” she breathed. “Bare. It’s all I can think about.”

I squeezed at my base until fluid beaded out from my tip. “I want that. I’m going to f**k you bareback the next time I see you. I don’t care where we are.”

I kept jerking my cock, pumping at it hard. I was going to come, and fast.

“I have two fingers inside of me, but it’s not enough. I need that big, thick c**k of yours, Dair. And your mouth. God, I miss your mouth all over me. And your hands.” She paused, her breath growing more ragged. “I’m using a dildo on myself now. My fingers weren’t enough.”

I pictured her using a toy on herself, slapping noises filling the room as I yanked hard at my cock

“God, Dair, I can hear that. It’s driving me wild. Tell me what you’re doing with your hands right now.”

“Jerking off,” I said through gritted teeth.

She was clearly better at this than I was.

She didn’t seem to mind, crying out into the phone as she got herself off.