Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
“Yes,” she wailed, undulating with him.
At this angle his strokes brushed her clit, and it didn’t take but twice before her internal muscles choked him. There wasn’t any other word for the grip that happened. Brutal and harsh, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. He loved how she held him like he was her only anchor on the world and she wasn’t letting go. Biting his cheek, he forced himself to hold on until she’d experienced her pleasure in full.
Iris parted her lips and that low keening cry he dreamed about slid free. Her back arched, pushing her chest closer to him as she stiffened. He powered in twice more before she yanked him over the precipice to follow her into oblivion.
Face buried in the crook of her neck, he held her as he came down from his high. The air smelled of their sex, sweat, and the scent he’d learned was purely Iris. One that wouldn’t ever be able to be bottled because it was her.
Reluctantly, he pulled free of her silken heat, watching as she sank to the wall, allowing it to hold her up. Ripping open a roll of paper towels from the closet shelves, he wiped himself off and tucked his cock away before grabbing more and sinking back to his knees to clean her up.
Little kisses that he dotted along her thighs as he wiped their combined essences off her had him wanting more. But he stayed focused. There was a small trash can by the door and he tossed the used paper towels there.
Then he pulled her closer to him and kissed her.
“How rumpled do I look?”
Bradford wanted her to be rumpled, but from the glare in her gaze she wasn’t of the same mind, so he stepped back and ran an assessing and definitely approving gaze over her.
A knock sounded on the door, and she gasped into his chest as he held her close, not allowing her to bolt away from him.
“If you’re finished debauching my new brother-in-law, sis, I’d appreciate it if you would get your ass out on the dance floor. All my bridesmaids are dancing with me. At least this way we’ll have an excuse for your flushed look.” Daisy’s no-nonsense tone held the slightest bit of humor. Two more knocks. “Hurry up. This is my day. Save it for later.”
Chapter Eleven
Three months later, late summer
Bradford scrubbed a hand down his face as he slowed to make the turn onto the road that would take him to Iris’ house in Colorado. He’d not let her know he was on his way. Hadn’t wanted to give her a chance to come up with some excuse as to why she couldn’t see him.
He hadn’t thought she would bolt after the wedding.
Well, she didn’t. She bolted during the reception.
After the dance the bridesmaids had done, he had gone to get a drink, and when he’d gotten back to the edge of the dance floor, she hadn’t been there. Nor had she remained in the building. She’d ghosted him.
It had been Violet who had rescued him from his panic.
So he had taken everything she’d said to heart and was showing up where she couldn’t come up with some reason they didn’t need to talk about the explosive chemistry between them. Or the fact he loved her.
It was stunning here, and he was impressed with the view. The narrow road had curves and bends that made him think of Iris. A low whistle escaped as he turned into her driveway. Construction vehicles littered the yard, people moving back and forth.
He drove his Range Rover up and parked it beside her Toyota Land Cruiser. Hopping out, he adjusted his Oakley sunglasses and took another look around. Men were on top of the house fixing the roof. Others were working on fencing. There were people replacing windows.
It was like she was doing all of it at once. Concern for her bank account swarmed, and he wanted to pay for it and make sure she didn’t have to worry about a damn thing.
One tall man strode by, a toolbelt riding low on his hips. A few minutes later he moved by once more. He looked at Bradford and gave a nod. Then he stopped. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for the owner.”
“Iris is on the roof.” He shoved his thumb over his shoulder. “Mike,” he hollered. “Let’s get working on that gate.”
Alone, Bradford stared at the house again as the man’s words tumbled around in his head. “On the roof.”
Of course she is. Because where else would she be?
Walking to the house, he smiled as Piros dashed up to him, tail wagging. After petting him for a moment, he continued his trek.
“Iris! Iris Wentz!” He had pitched his voice to carry over the nail guns, conversation, saws, and more.