Dair

  I nearly came into her again, but managed to restrain myself. Barely.

  I straightened her bikini bottoms, then put my dick back in my pants.

  I turned her with two firm hands on her shoulders, keeping her steady. She looked disoriented, like she’d forgotten where she even was.

  I remembered. I remembered everything, rational thought coming back to fill the space left by all of the lust I’d just expended.

  There was so much that we needed to talk about. So many questions arose from our last meeting, and every single one prior.

  Where to start?

  Well, that was easy. First we needed to leave the neon rave.

  I bent down until our faces were nearly touching.

  “Let’s go home,” I told her.

  Her eyes went from glazed over to blinking and alert in a hot second.

  She sighed and shook her head. “I can’t go home with you. Not tonight.”

  I didn’t like that. Not at all. “Why?” I clipped.

  “We can’t go back there. Heath knows where you live, remember?”

  I couldn’t decide if that actually gave me an answer or just raised another question.

  “So you’re running from him now? I had myself half-convinced you were working together. That you were with him willingly.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Of course it was.

  “Let’s get a hotel room, then,” I suggested. Anyplace private would be an improvement.

  She grabbed my hand and started to move. “Follow me. I know a place where we can clean up.”

  She stopped briefly at the painting table to apply more pink glow-in-the-dark lipstick, outrageous girl, and then led me down a hall that broke off from the upper deck, and to a bathroom with florescent lighting that barely worked. It was less than ideal, but it was single occupancy, and had a lock, so that was something.

  We cleaned up in the sink as best we could, Iris taking over the task and using it as an excuse to stroke me back into fighting shape.

  I pulled her hand away, though that was the last thing I wanted to do. “Hotel,” I said firmly.

  She nodded and stepped back. “One more thing, then a hotel, okay?”

  She took me a few doors down the hallway, into another black light illuminated room that, as far as I could tell, was unoccupied.

  “This is where they keep the extra neon glow powder and makeup. I saw it earlier and it gave me an idea.”

  Uh oh.

  Her ideas usually ended with my pants around my ankles and a total, if temporary, loss of my brain function.

  This one was no different.

  “It won’t take but a minute,” she said breathlessly, pushing my pants down and moving close.

  My naked sex pushed hard and thick against her bare belly, but not for long.

  A heady, powerful feeling rocked through me as I watched her lower to her knees.

  She gripped my shaft, pushing it down so she could put it in her mouth.

  I watched her neon lips move over my length until she was hugging my tip deep in her throat, and she’d left a hot pink ring of paint around my base.

  I heard my own low, guttural moan fill the room.

  She pulled back about an inch, then pressed her lips firmly again, leaving another distinct ring of color on my cock.

  I clenched my fists and watched.

  I’d never imagined anything like it. Who would?

  I watched her glow-in-the-dark lips moving along my cock, wondering if I’d died and gone to heaven.

  She repeated the process four times before pulling back to apply more lipstick, smiling up at me, then going back for part two.

  She ringed me, base to tip, and pulled away. She stood, pinching my tip hard with two fingers. “You want to finish here or that hotel?”

  I groaned and cursed, but managed to pull her hand away, and hold onto exactly one ounce of control. “Hotel. Now.”

  She pouted, but led me out of the club without protest.

  It was a crush outside, some heading away from the building, but most loitering from the door and out onto the street.

  “How did you set all that up, with the bouncers?” I asked her as we moved.

  “I bribed them with cash.”

  “Have you been counting cards again?”

  She shot me an impish smile. “What do you think?”

  Outside, by the dim light of the few street lamps that were actually working, I got a good look at her.

  The series of multicolored strings and paint she wore hadn’t done her justice under the black lights.

  Her ripe breasts fairly spilled from her top, the minuscule bottoms cupping her sweet ass like an invitation.

  It wasn’t warm out, not freezing, but there was definitely a chill in the air. It was only as I felt it that I realized I’d left my shirt behind, somewhere in that blasted rave.

  No way in hell was I going back in there.

  As though just realizing how cold it was herself, Iris shivered. I pulled her into my chest, rubbing her arms.

  “Nasty slut,” some perturbed girl with ink-black hair and goth makeup called out as a group of people passed. She was looking directly at Iris, obviously speaking to her.

  My brows drew together, jaw clenching.

  Iris seemed oblivious to it, tilting her head back to watch me instead.

  “Easy there, tiger,” she said, her tone amused, her eyes smiling up at me. “She just didn’t like my outfit. Not everyone is ever going to love what you’re putting out there, especially when you’re having a good time. There’s always going to be a percentage of the population that has a problem with fun, that wants to put you down for having it.”

  “What an unpleasant young woman,” I said tersely, sending the girl’s back another glare.

  Iris laughed. “Don’t hold back now.”

  “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Let’s,” she agreed, but abruptly she stiffened, pulling away.

  She started looking around, appearing suddenly paranoid in the extreme.

  She licked her lips, and focused on me, her entire demeanor suddenly changed. “Listen, I forgot something important inside. I’ll meet you at your car.”

  I opened my mouth to protest.

  She held up a hand, fingers spread wide, backing away. “No more than five minutes, I swear.”

  I shouldn’t have believed her, but I did.

  When would I learn?

  She disappeared inside, and I stood there for a moment, torn on whether I should follow her, just in case she ran into trouble.

  In the end, I figured I didn’t need to. She had the staff in her pocket, and she’d sworn she’d only be five minutes.

  I was almost to my car when all hell broke loose.

  The breath whooshed out of me as something hard slammed into my back, taking me down to the ground. My hands met the pavement a split second before the rest of me joined it, just saving me from some broken bones, I was sure.

  A big, hard body pressed against my back and cold metal dug into my temple.

  “Where is she, you piece of shit?” a familiar voice growled at me.

  Fucking Heath.

  “Get off me,” I growled back.

  For some reason, it worked.

  He let up and I stood, glaring at him.

  “Well, where the fuck is she?” he asked, gun down at his side, at least, but I was willing to bet he could raise and shoot before I could do much about it.

  I tried to lie. It wasn’t clean and neat. “No clue. Haven’t seen her.”

  His expression was an entertaining combination of disgusted and amused. “You really think I’ll believe that you were here on your own? This a normal weekday outing for you, Masters?”

  “I like to dance,” I tried.

  He snarled at me. “If you give even one ounce of a fuck about her, you’ll call me the second she contacts you again.” He reached into his pocket, then thrust his fist at me, handing me a
small card with nothing on it but a phone number.

  Not fucking likely, but I didn’t even have time to tell him that, as he’d already started moving away, towards the club, a man clearly on a mission.

  Fuck.

  I looked for her until the morning hours, running into a furious Heath several times while we both searched the area.

  Neither of us found her. I figured she’d bolted the second she caught wind of him.

  I went home as the sun rose in the sky, still covered in body paint.

  Shirtless, Irisless, I walked into my house, hoping she’d be there to greet me.

  She wasn’t. I’d lost her, yet again.

  CHAPTER TEN

  It was three days later, and I was calling the number on the card Heath had given me, yet again.

  I didn’t have much else to go on.

  Heath answered with his usual hostility. “You better have fucking found her this time, or so help me God,” he snarled.

  I cleared my throat. He really was a scary motherfucker. “No, just checking in to see if you have.”

  “Fuck off,” he snapped and hung up.

  I sighed and set my phone on my desk. I’d try again, regardless of what he said, in a few hours. That number was the only tie I had to her, sad as that was.

  It wasn’t ten minutes later when I got a call from Turner.

  “Hey,” I answered.

  “Um, hey man. Listen, uh . . . wanna come over and hang out?”

  He sounded weird, though I couldn’t put my finger on why.

  “Maybe tomorrow,” I told him, feeling in no mood for company. I was still in the punchy, antisocial stage of my post-Iris-high.

  I heard him sigh into the phone, pause for a long time, then, “You should come over today. Trust me on this.”

  That was too random and strange not to investigate, but no matter what I asked him, he wouldn’t clarify.

  About an hour later, I found myself driving to his house, still clueless about what was going on.

  He met me at the door, acting as weird as he’d sounded, and glancing over my head, behind me, looking paranoid in the extreme.

  That paranoia reminded me of something familiar. Or rather, someone.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked him, amused.

  “Come on in,” he said, projecting his voice, sounding unnatural.

  I stepped in, and he shut it behind me, giving me a very inscrutable look.

  “This way,” he said quietly, leading me upstairs, instead of to the usual hangout.

  I was about to question him again when he stopped at a closed door, the second one at the top of the steps.

  He opened it, and I looked inside. It was dark, shudders shut tight.

  A body came hurdling out of that darkness, launching itself into my chest.

  A luscious little body, topped by bright pink hair.

  Without thought, my arms caught Iris tight against me.

  I took her in with a few deep breaths like that before I started in on her.

  “You lied to me,” I accused. “You said you were done with lying, but you did it again. No more than five minutes you swore, three days ago.”

  She took a deep, shuddering breath before answering. “I know. I had to make a quick decision. If it’s any consolation, I did it so I could be with you. If I hadn’t run, it likely would have been months before I got to see you again, instead of days.”

  I could never stay mad at her for long, even when I needed that anger just for the sake of clarity.

  I was too addicted to the peace of her to keep fighting for long.

  I kissed the top of her head, then pulled back slightly to look at her hair, fingering a few bright strands.

  “Your hair is still pink. You used permanent dye?”

  “Yeah, but it still probably won’t last more than a few weeks. Don’t worry. I’ve been dying my hair since I was a kid, and I know how to get my color back to normal.”

  I was relieved. The pink was sort of hot, but I loved her blonde hair best by far.

  “I have a plan, a way for us to get a few weeks together,” she told me, tilting her head to look up at me.

  The word plan coming out of her mouth had a notable effect on my cock, as again, her plans always seemed to end the same way.

  That effect had me remembering that we weren’t alone.

  I glanced at Turner, who gave me a toothy grin. He was enjoying the hell out of the show we were giving him.

  “Mind if we borrow this room for a bit?” I asked him, shuffling Iris inside. “We need to talk.”

  He laughed. “Go for it. You and your Chloroform Queen may talk as many times as you like in there. Talk yourselves silly.”

  I ignored that, shutting the door in his face.

  Iris started explaining her plan the instant I turned my attention back to her.

  “I’m house-sitting for these really nice women that I met at Turner’s pool party. We’ve kept in touch, and it worked out just perfect, because they just left on a month long vacation to celebrate their anniversary.”

  “What women?”

  “Frankie and Estella. Remember them? Frankie is the tattoo artist with her own reality show that I’m going to make you watch sometime.”

  “Oh, the hot lesbians.”

  “Yes, them. Anyway, it’s the perfect situation, all things considered. We’ll have a bit of privacy for a few days, weeks, if we do it right, where no one can find us, because they won’t know where to look.”

  I processed that. She was such a whirlwind, and it was always easy to let that whirlwind sweep me up with it, but I suddenly remembered that I needed some things clarified.

  “I know you’re going to tell me it’s complicated, but I need you to clear something up for me. I need to know what’s up with you and Heath. First you drug me, knock me out for this guy, and now he’s the one you’re running from? Am I getting this right?”

  She flushed, wringing her hands, not looking me in the eye suddenly, and I knew it was because she felt guilty for what she’d done, knocking me out cold while I was still twitching inside of her.

  Good. She should feel bad about that.

  “I did that for you, not him. I knew if you fought when he came to take you back, he’d hurt you bad. And he is helping me, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. Well, not to me, but to you he is. You need to avoid setting him off. He has a temper.”

  No shit.

  “I’m very sorry for that,” she added, voice small. “Please don’t hate me.”

  I took pity on her instantly. “I’m over it. I’d kind of figured you thought you were doing it for my own protection.” I stroked her jaw, mood shifting as I stared down at her repentant, downcast face. “And I could never hate you, but I think you know that.”

  She answered by nuzzling into my chest, and my mood shifted even more.

  “I was really disappointed that our night got cut short,” I told her gruffly. “When will I get another chance to have a glow-in-the-dark lipstick blow job?”

  She grinned up at me, a sweet, filthy light in her eyes. “It’s not glow-in-the-dark, but I do have lipstick.”

  I blinked. I’d only been teasing, but I certainly wouldn’t turn it down.

  She pulled away from me, moving across the room to a big bag on a chair in the far corner.

  I found a light switch and turned it on, taking in her outfit. It was nothing too shocking, especially considering some of the things I’d seen her wear, but it still got me worked up, or rather, the body it housed did.

  She looked like a different girl with the pink hair, tiny cutoff jean shorts that barely covered her ass, combat boots with high, chunky heels, and a cropped white muscle tee with a kitten in sunglasses on the front that read: LET’S GET CRAY.

  She was an adorable, punk version of herself.

  And still way, way too young for me.

  I felt like a pervert while I found myself a seat on the edge of the room’s big bed, and wat
ched her bend over to search through her bag, but that didn’t stop me from shrugging off my T-shirt, and as I watched her perky ass pointing my way, pulling out my dick.

  She straightened, turning to face me while she applied dark red lipstick, opening her mouth into a suggestive O that had me jerking myself impatiently.

  She began to move towards me, her walk sultry.

  “Clothes off,” I told her, forcing my hand away from my dick, with an effort.

  She stripped slowly, having to sit down first to take off her heavy shoes, then standing, and taking the rest off, working bottom to top, her shirt and bra coming off last, when she stood directly in front of me, close enough to shove her tits in my face as she bared them.

  I only got in one tonguing kiss on the underside of one breast before she shifted back, then lowered to her knees.

  She gave me a coquettish smile and set to work.

  I gripped her hair and watched, jaw more than a little slack.

  She ringed half my cock with four deep red rings, reapplied the lipstick, and finished, right up to the tip.

  She pulled back when she was done, and we both stared, admiring her handwork.

  I pulled her hot little mouth to mine, kissed her deep, her pulpy lips giving to mine, driving me wild. I took my time, pulled back, and pushed her head back down.

  I watched her head bobbing on my colorful shaft, eyes heavy lidded, breath panting out of me.

  Generally, it was a dick move to draw a blow job out longer, but I couldn’t seem to help myself this time, enjoying the view too much, taking permanent snapshots in my mind for future use.

  She’d just finished sucking the last drop of seed from my tip when I yanked her up on the bed and flipped her onto her back, legs spread wide.

  Her feet tapped out a vigorous rhythm on my back as I lapped between her thighs. I took my time, tongue and hands working her cunt over thoroughly.

  I did this until she’d come twice, and I was ready to come again.

  I climbed up her body, using my hips to spread her legs wider, my body coming down heavy on hers. She took my weight with gasping delight, and I came inside of her, and she felt so good, so hot and slick and narrow, closing around me snugly from tip to base, that I nearly exploded right then.

  “I’m pretty sure lipstick is probably meant for external use only,” I told her as I moved inside of her.