Iris (The Wild Side)(18)

When she pulled back a few of my IQ points had transferred below my waist, and I wasn’t thinking too clearly.
She gave me some good, steady eye contact. “I’m going to swim and probably dance. I’ll come join you in a bit, okay?”
I nodded, then watched her walk away.
By the time I reached Turner, the girls had left the cabana. They’d gone to dance with Iris, and I wasn’t sure if it was their idea, or if he’d kicked them out.
“Well, I don’t have to ask what you’ve been up to,” he said wryly as I took a seat a few feet to his right.
“Good. Don’t.”
Because he was smarter than he looked, he dropped the subject right there.
“Your ex is here,” he said casually.
I scowled. “So I’ve heard.”
“She was flying around out here on her broomstick earlier, but it’s strange, she keeps disappearing into the house. Should I be worried about the silver? Or worse, my collection of Macs?”
“Hell if I know. I gave her millions, and she still hits me up for money every time I see her. And I guess she just spied on Iris and me going at it in your rec room.”
He shot me a look, and I grimaced. I shouldn’t have said that, but it was too infuriating not to share.
“So she saw you . . . ?” he prompted.
I waved that off. “I’m not giving details, you pervert, not anymore, not now that you can put a face on the whole thing.”
“But what a face,” he mused, and I knew he was watching Iris. She was laughing as dancing with the other girls.
“Stop it,” I warned.
“I wasn’t doing anything. I wasn’t picturing even one elicit thing. Holy shit, look at her rolling those hips. She’s a f*cking pro.”
The girls started getting loud, hooting and clapping, and I glanced over to see Iris doing one of her mind-boggling moves, knees bent, ass swinging at sharp angles with the music’s heavy bass.
“What’s that called?” I asked Turner, trying not to drool.
“That’s booty popping. Every white sorority girl in the world tries that move, usually badly, but f*ck me, she knows how to do it right.”
I punched him in the arm.
“I swear to God, I’m getting some poles installed back here. I’d bet money she knows how to work a pole.”
I socked him again, the perverted bastard.
“Quit looking at her,” I told him, right as Iris caught my eye and winked.
“Holy shit, man. She’s going to chew you up and spit you out, isn’t she?”
“It’s likely,” I agreed wryly.
Even after coming twice in quick succession, I was getting worked up just watching her dance.
“See that chick that keeps touching your girl’s hips?” Turner asked at one point.
I had noticed that, and kept telling myself that it was an insane mouth-breathing move to get jealous of another woman touching her while dancing. “Yeah,” I said shortly, not about to admit to my insane possessive streak. He wouldn’t understand, anyway.
“I’m going to f*ck that one. We’ll practically be Eskimo brothers with the way my girl is freaking yours.”
“I don’t know what the f*ck that means, and I don’t want to.”
“Yeah, no, don’t look it up. You won’t like it. It was probably way out of line. You know I have no filter.” Of course he was laughing as he said it, and he was dead-on about the lack of filter. We’d discussed it many times. It was just one of his quirks.
He was working on it, but I still gave him a dirty look.







CHAPTER TEN

“Ahh shit, here comes trouble,” Turner said, looking way too happy about it.
I glanced back at the spot beside the pool that had turned into a girl on girl grinding spot. Nothing unusual there, but a new addition, two hot women, were approaching our cabana.
Turner rose and embraced first the dark haired one, then the brown-haired one.
The women were opposites, appearance wise, but both were beautiful, and I could tell right away they were a couple.
The black-haired, tattooed one couldn’t keep her hands off the other one, and they were both wearing next to nothing, some of the tiniest bikinis I’d ever seen, so it was a lot of skin on skin contact that was hard to mistake for anything but what it was. Yep, they were a couple.
Turner hugged the one with light brown, thick wavy hair, and she said something to him in a heavy accent.
“Frankie, Estella, this is my good friend, Dair,” Turner introduced.
I shook their hands, trying not to stare at Frankie’s (the black-haired one) very bared body, but it was difficult, since so much of her skin was covered in some rather interesting tattoos.
Iris was suddenly beside us, looking so excited she might start jumping up and down any second. I was okay with that, in fact there wasn’t much I loved more than watching her bounce.
“Oh my god! Frankie and Estella Abelli! I’m such a huge fan!” she got out, looking and sounding as young as I’d ever seen her. It was absolutely adorable, but I was a little lost.
Turner caught my puzzled look. He rolled his eyes. “I take it you’ve never heard of Frankie’s reality show,” he guessed.
I nodded. “You would be right.”
I should have known.
Iris loved her reality TV.
Frankie and Estella were quickly recruited to join the dancing mass of girls.
“I’m surprised no guys are trying to get in on that action,” I remarked, trying not to grimace every time any of the girls’ hand made any contact with a part of Iris’ body, though I could tell they were all just having fun.