Iris (The Wild Side #2)(14)

Instead, I rounded on Iris.

She was looking back and forth, between my car and me.

It was still running, driver’s door open.

I half-toyed with the idea of going after him in the car, but what was the point?

She was here now, for the moment, at least. It was clearly the most I’d ever be getting from her.

I went to her, grabbing her shoulders, wanting to shake her. “Who the f**k is he? Tell me.”

“I can’t. I would if I could. Trust me.”

I shook my head. I didn’t trust her. How could I? She’d given me cause to do nothing but distrust her. She gave me no answers, so I was forced to draw conclusions, and those conclusions were based on logic, not hope, so they never worked in her favor, because there was no good, logical reason for the things she lied about.

She seemed to know it. “I’m sorry. I wanted to see you, to be with you, but this is how it has to be. I can’t talk about him, and I wish you hadn’t seen him. Where are you headed in your swim trunks?”

I let out a frustrated breath, dragging my hand through my hair. “It’s not important. Let’s go inside. If I only get a few more hours with you, I want to spend them in bed.”

She was stubborn, digging in her heels when I tried to tug her towards her house. “Tell me where you were going. And I can stay for more than a few hours this time.”

That reassurance did wonders for my mood, and had me answering her question. “My friend is having a pool party, but it’s nothing important.”

She beamed. “I love parties. Let’s go. I need to stop and buy a suit, though.”

I didn’t want to take her, didn’t want to share her company with anyone, let alone a large crowd.

Something vulnerable entered her eyes. “I almost forgot. You don’t want to be seen with me.”

My gut clenched. That wasn’t even accurate, but now I had to prove otherwise.

Goddammit.

And there was another, more persistent devil of a doubt that had me caving fast. I didn’t want to be boring to her, to be too tame for the wild part of her, and attending a party at Turner’s house was bound to be anything but that.

I bent down and kissed her briefly, rubbing her shoulders. “That’s not true at all. I don’t want to go because I want to be alone with you, but if it’s that important, we’ll swing by. I’m not staying more than two hours, though, I’m warning you right now.”

She hugged me. “Do you mind stopping at a store on the way? I don’t have to swim, but you know I love the water.”

There wasn’t a store on the way, but I wasn’t telling her that. Knowing her, I was half-afraid that if she didn’t have a suit, she’d somehow end up swimming naked.

“I don’t mind at all. Just tell me where you go to buy suits. I haven’t shopped at an actual store in years. I do everything online.”

I wound up GPSing some women’s swimsuit shop that was about thirty minutes out of the way on a ten-minute drive.

I didn’t complain. It was more time having her to myself before the chaos began, because any party where I showed up with Iris for the first time would surely be that.

She was a quick shopper, didn’t even try the bikini on, just grabbed a neon yellow number that was just the most minuscule series of strings and triangles.

“Oh, I love this color!” the sales clerk said as she checked her out. “It’s called Sun Worshipper. Isn’t that the perfect name for it?”

Iris agreed, and then proceeded to nearly make a scene when I tried to pay, instead using her own cash.

I backed off quickly, easily embarrassed by scenes, though it was all infuriating, so infuriating that I stormed out of the store as she finished up.

I’d never so much as taken her out to dinner. It made my allegation that she was interested in my money all the more ridiculous, which I thought was her point.

She came out a few minutes later, wearing the suit.

I could barely look at her without embarrassing myself, that’s how sexy it was.

In fact, I made a point of not looking at her body after she had it on.

But I got enough of a look to have it burned into my memory.

Permanently.

It wasn’t that it was especially small. It was tiny, but I’d seen her wear tiny bikinis before. The triangles that covered her were about the normal size for a string bikini.

It was the strings that turned the thing into pure wickedness. They laced together over her cle**age up to the base of her neck, teasing along the skin, pulled taut over her pushed together cle**age, making each inch uncovered all the more sinful. The same effect of intertwined laces played over her hips, and right down to the V of material right over her sex.

And forget about the back.

It was too much, laces barely covering the top of her ass, looking like they might come apart at any second.

“You don’t wear a cover-up or anything?” I asked her, voice low and rough.

“Nope. Do you like the suit?”

I nodded, not looking at her. If I started talking about how she looked, even just to compliment her, I knew I’d be hard for an hour, so I didn’t say another word about it, willing my hard-on to go away by the time we got to the party.

On the way back to the car, I commented on the huge stack of cash I’d seen in her purse.