Iris (The Wild Side)(3)

She faced straight ahead, her arms swinging lightly at her sides, making no effort to touch me, or even to look at me.
I didn’t last long like that, stopping abruptly, and grabbing her hand.
She didn’t react with even the slightest bit of surprise by my movements, in fact accommodated me by shifting to lean against the wall, letting me study, letting me take in the sight of her.
And I did.
It was both torment and solace to look at her again.
An agonizing comfort.
Me, I was simple. I was order. A very neat, efficient machine that ran on nothing but air.
Me plus anyone else, well, that was another matter.
And me plus Iris, that was a monster of a machine, with all gears going at different speeds, some spinning off their hinges, just going mad, but it was a wonderful madness, at full throttle, misfiring in all directions.
It felt wonderful and dreadful.
I was breaking down, and it felt amazing.
And terrifying.
What did she have planned for me this time? What ways would she find to coil me up and let me loose? Where would it end? And when?
And also:
Why did she have to wear white?
I was trying to be civilized, but I couldn’t stand not to touch her for even a second when she looked so touchable, every bit of her skin outlined just perfectly by the thin, light material of her skirt and blouse.
My hands went to her waist, and I stepped very close, still drinking her in, my thirst working its way up to her tender lips.
“You really aren’t going to tell me where you’ve been?” I asked her, my hands running from her waist up her sides to play along her ribs, then down again, all the way to her hips, then up again, rubbing, feeling at the soft material of her clothes, craving the supple skin beneath.
“I’m not. I missed you, though. I wanted to come back and see you sooner.”
“You should have,” I told her, pressing closer, slowly but steadily hemming her in. “Why didn’t you?”
“A lot of reasons. Some of them. . . complicated. I don’t want to talk about me. I want to talk about you. How have you been? What have you been up to?”
I shrugged. It was on the tip of my tongue to blurt out that I’d been doing nothing so much as missing her, but I stopped myself.
It would be just too pathetic.
“Have you been seeing anyone?” she asked.
I tensed. I didn’t like that question, didn’t like the way she asked it like it truly wouldn’t bother her if I were.
“No,” I said, stressing the word, because I wanted to say so much more, and moreover, was terrified to ask her the same question.
I was pretty sure I knew the answer, and I really didn’t want to hear it aloud.
“Really?” she asked, looking pleased, at least. It was the tiniest, most minuscule sop to my ego.
“Really. God, what did you think I would say?”
“I was gone for two months. It seems well within the realm of possibility that you may have moved on by now. Certainly, if you wanted company of the female variety, you’d have no trouble finding it.”
“You know I’m not a social creature,” I said through gritted teeth, that small sop to my ego soaring away on the briefest gust of wind.
“But you have been going out with your friends. Meeting up for coffee, even going to bars, right?”
What the f*ck? Had she been stalking me?
The idea was too ludicrous to humor for even a second.
“I have no notion how you guessed that, but yes, I’ve been going out a bit more with friends. Trying to join the land of the living, as it were.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
I shrugged, trying to work past my agitation and just seize the moment at hand. “Okay. I’m getting used to it. I do enjoy talking to my friends. I’d forgotten.”
“I read that magazine interview you did. I enjoyed it. And the pictures were phenomenal. I take it your friend, Lourdes, came back for that photo shoot.”
How did Iris know her name? Had I told her at some point?
I couldn’t remember doing that, but I supposed that was irrelevant.
“She did. It took a few hours, but it wasn’t too torturous. You really won’t so much as give me a hint about what you’ve been up to?”
She smiled and shook her head slowly. “Well?” she asked.
My brows drew together. I had no notion what was going through her head at any given time. “Well what?”
“Aren’t you even going to kiss me hello, Dair?”
Now that…
That I could wrap my mind around. At least we were on the same page about something.
I leaned in and rubbed my lips against hers, slowly, back and forth, smudging her pale pink lip gloss, eating at her mouth, licking it off, then delving inside to taste.
She pulled back within a few short moments, moving sideways so her back was no longer to the wall. “Wait. I wanted to do something with you. I saw this on my way in.”
She grabbed my hand, tugging me to follow her.
And, of course, I followed.
She led me into one of those ice cream shops that let you choose your own ingredients, and after they mixed them all together, and you tipped them, they sang some loud song that made me wish I wasn’t a habitual tipper.
“Sit down. I know just what to get, but I want to surprise you.” She smiled at me over her shoulder as she walked away.
Her eyes scrambled my brain. I couldn’t even properly check out her ass until she’d turned them from me.
She’d said she wanted to surprise me, but I watched the entire thing from my chair, mouth dry, fists clenched.
She chose the sweet cream flavor, mixed it with cinnamon and topped it with powdered sugar, shooting me that sweet, wicked smile of hers from time to time.