Pocket Dungeon 2, page 21
“Do you want us to put our own items away?” I asked him and raised my eyebrow.
Mimic stirred slightly and opened one eye.
He glowered in my direction. “Never.”
I fought a laugh. “Alright then. Well, if that’s the case, we’ll leave you to your nap and your organization.”
“Goodbye, Mimic,” Yasha said, and I could have sworn I heard him grumble at the dismissal.
“Who pissed in his Cheerios?” Iris muttered under her breath.
I had to fight another laugh, and I gestured for the two of my companions to lead the way up the ladder and out of the dungeon before Mimic really did start trying to bite at our ankles to get us to leave. He certainly wasn’t a very friendly little thing much of the time.
Iris went first with Yasha following after her, and I took up the rear. My leg was still throbbing a little, and I knew the pain I had been ignoring wasn’t going to go away that easily. I just hoped it wasn’t something serious as I climbed.
My thoughts floated back to the sight of Monty about to stitch up his own fucking stomach with dental floss, and I shuddered before the feeling of exiting the dungeon overtook me.
One second I was crossing over through the hatch in the ceiling, and the next, I was on my ass in the dirt outside of an abandoned gas station at noon.
I looked around to make sure both Iris and Yasha had made it out as well, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me at the sight of the two of them perfectly safe.
I made a move to pull myself back up to my feet, but I couldn’t stop a grimace from crossing my face.
“Here,” Iris said quickly as she moved over toward me and helped pull me up to my feet. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, but she wasn’t wrong. I was hurt.
Now that we were out of the dungeon, the pain I had been trying my best to pretend didn’t exist was all too present.
I wondered if the dungeon had some sort of numbing effect, or if it was the adrenaline crashing through my system that was making me all too aware of the fact my ankle was bent a little awkwardly in my boot.
She looked at me in pure concern as Yasha moved to grab our helmets, and for a moment, it was just Iris and I alone in the world, or so it felt.
She was close enough to me that I could see that her dark blue irises had slight flecks of green in them that I had never noticed before, right up by the pupil. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.
“Thanks,” I said quietly, just for her to hear.
She had yet to move her hand from my arm, and the heat radiating from her palm was enough to warm me all the way down to my core, even without my jacket and in my sopping wet clothes.
“Haven’t you been the one telling me not to thank you for things?” she asked in a soft tone. Her voice had a musical quality to it at that volume, and it was something I found myself wishing I could hear forever.
“That’s different,” I told her. “I’m not doing anything special.”
“Wes, you saved my life,” she told me. “More than once now, and you didn’t even think about it. When I thought you were hurt or dead because of me earlier, I…”
“What?” I asked her.
She looked from my lips to meet my eyes. “I thought that I could never forgive myself if I was the reason someone like you was gone from the world.”
And then, before I could say anything else, Iris leaned in and she kissed me.
It was a slow, almost hesitant kiss, and I found myself holding my breath at the first brush of her lips against mine. She tasted sweet and earthy, and there was something downright intoxicating about the way she moved closer to me.
It was only by a centimeter, or maybe an inch, but even the added hint of proximity was enough to set my blood on fire, and I kissed her back. I was careful, as to not frighten her or push her too far, but she didn’t hesitate to meet me halfway.
Suddenly, the demure, almost shy kiss changed into something hungry and laced with intention. She stepped closer to me once again, and her hand fell down to rest on my waist. I imagined that the mark of her hand on my shirt left a singe mark for all the heat I felt flowing into my body from that place.
When she pulled away, I had a hard time catching my breath. She was so goddamn beautiful, even with her hair sopping wet and a pale pallor. I could count the drops of water that beaded her eyelashes, which was an insane thing to want to do, but I found myself doing it anyway, just because I could.
Then she stepped away from me and cleared her throat.
She pulled her hands back, knotted them into a ball in front of her stomach, and turned on her heel like she’d been shocked. Yasha seemed surprised with the sudden turn of events, and when Iris faced her, she didn’t hesitate to hand her the helmet so she could slip it on.
Then Yasha came closer to me and passed me my helmet next.
“Is she alright?” she asked, and for once, I didn’t have to tell her she should lower her voice.
“I think so,” I said. “Why?”
“Because she stopped kissing you,” Yasha said as if it was obvious. “I do not know why she would have done a thing like that. I can never stop kissing you once I start.”
Well, there went any questions I had about whether or not Yasha was okay with me kissing Iris. Apparently, she was more than alright with the idea, and was simply confused as to why Iris had stopped.
Goddamn, how had I gotten so lucky?
“Come on,” I said at a normal volume. “Let’s get out of here and head back home.”
The three of us moved like a well-oiled machine, which was surprising considering the relative newness of all of this still, as we mounted the bike and quickly headed back into the city.
We were definitely going to need to get a fucking car at some point, but for now, I was more than enjoying the closeness of the two women next to me. In fact, they helped me warm up on the way back to the apartment, despite the razor sharpness of the wind.
When we stepped inside the apartment, I let out a loud sigh of relief and fought the urge to sag down onto the ground immediately.
“You should go shower,” Iris told me. “To warm yourself up again.”
“I’m alright,” I told her. “Really. You should go first.”
Iris hesitated for a moment before she looked over at Yasha. “Actually, Yasha, if you want to have first dibs, go ahead.”
“What is a dib?” Yasha asked me with a furrow of her reddish-gold brow. “Is that something to eat?”
Iris gave a little musical laugh and shook her head. “No, no. It means you can go ahead and shower first if you want.”
“Ah,” Yasha said and nodded her head. “I understand. I shall go and do that, then.”
She turned on her heel, and without an ounce of shame, she started to strip off her clothes as she walked into the bathroom. By the time she shut the door, she was entirely naked.
Iris and I both exchanged a look after the door closed, and it was apparent that the two of us had both been watching the fox-woman with a very clear dedication.
I wasn’t as ashamed as maybe I should have been for so openly gawking, but Iris didn’t seem that ashamed, either.
There was something clearly hanging in the air between us, and it was entirely impossible to ignore.
“You should change out of your wet clothes at least,” Iris finally said to break the tension that hung between the two of us.
I swallowed back a lump in my throat and nodded. “So should you.”
The two of us seemed to be locked in a stalemate, but Iris finally gave a slow nod of her head and exhaled.
“Let me help you,” she said, and she linked her arm through mine to help guide me back to my room.
My brain was firing on all cylinders, and I felt like I was going to explode, but I tried to keep cool as a very sexy woman who I had just kissed about twenty minutes before helped me into my room.
She led me over to the side of my bed, and I collapsed down onto it without her help. Sitting was such an overwhelming relief that I let out a low sigh.
“Let me help with your shoes,” Iris said but then paused to look up at me. “How badly are you hurt?”
“It’s not that bad,” I told her again, though she clearly hadn’t started to believe me yet. “Really. I don’t think it’s broken. If anything, it’s probably just a little sprained, and I’ve been through worse. I’m not all that worried about it.”
She pressed her lips into a line and didn’t grace my answer with a response of her own. I watched as Iris crouched down onto her knees in front of me and started to gently work at the laces on my boots.
I tried not to focus on the fact that she was literally on her knees in front of me with my legs slightly spread, but that was slightly easier said than done. The last thing I wanted to do was push Iris into doing anything, or make her think that I wanted to push her into anything, especially considering all that she had been through in the past.
I wasn’t that sort of guy, and I wanted to make sure she knew that. So I tried to think about the least sexy things I could, like taxes, open wounds, and the entire state of Ohio.
Iris was careful as she started to pry off my first boot. She set it aside and peeled off my sock to place it next to the boot on the ground. Then she moved onto my injured foot. Her hands hovered above me for a moment, like she wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to go through with potentially hurting me, but in the end, she reached down and slowly started to work the boot off of my foot.
A wave of pain shot through me, and I curled my hands into white-knuckled fists in my comforter as she worked the boot off my foot. She cut her eyes up to me in an apologetic look, but I appreciated the fact that she didn’t stop trying to get the shoe off. It would have been much worse to engage in a game of start and stop.
When she managed to get the shoe off entirely, some of the pain subsided, and I figured my foot had probably been a bit swollen inside of the combat boot.
I braced myself for the worst as I looked down to assess the damage I had taken to my foot, but to my surprise, it actually wasn’t all that bad. At the very least, it wasn’t nearly as mangled and horrific as I had been expecting it to be.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Iris said with a thin laugh as we both stared at the injured limb.
The foot was swollen and red, and there were only about five or so actual punctures in the flesh.
“Do you think I’ll live, doc?” I joked.
Iris leaned back on her haunches to look up at me, and a small smile worked its way across her lips. “I think you’ll live.”
“Good,” I said. “I’ve got plenty of things I still want to live for.”
I noticed for the first time since we had left the dungeon that the material of Iris’ white t-shirt had been turned entirely translucent thanks to the water still soaking the fabric.
Her nipples were hard and rosy pink, and they pressed up against the thin fabric in a way that was desperate to be touched.
I looked away and resumed my thoughts of Ohio.
If Iris was bothered by the gaze, she didn’t say anything, and instead, she moved ever so slightly closer to me on the ground.
“Wes,” she said my name in such a soft, husky way, I nearly fucking shuddered. “Your clothes are still soaked.”
“Right,” I croaked out. “You’re right.”
Iris paused and looked at me like she was trying to see through the probably unconvincing facade that I had put on in the first place.
“You should take them off,” she said.
Chapter 15
Her words hung in the air between us, and finally, I let myself look at her face again. Her expression was open, and it was hungry in a way I had never seen on her features.
“Oh.” Wow, great fucking response, Wesley.
I managed to get my shit together, and without fucking around any longer, I reached down and yanked the hem of my shirt up to casually toss it aside in sopping wet heap onto the ground.
Iris watched me with rapt, unwavering attention with those massive, bottomless blue eyes of hers, and I felt emboldened.
I stood up from the edge of the bed and quickly fumbled for the button on my jeans, and then I pushed them down as well. I nearly tripped over myself as they fell around my ankles, but I kicked them away and stood in front of Iris in only my boxers.
If she hadn’t noticed the fact I was sporting an erection before, there was no denying it now.
My cock was achingly hard and pressed against the damp material of my underwear without any resistance.
Iris continued to stare up at me, and I watched as her tongue slipped out from her mouth and ran across her plush lower lip.
“Iris,” I said her name and tried to make it mean a thousand different things all at once. It was a way out of the situation, a warning of how badly I wanted her, and a plea all wrapped up into one.
“Should I take my wet clothes off, too?” she asked me and slowly stood up. She was tall for a woman, but I was still a few inches taller than her. If she took a step closer, my erection would have prodded right into her perfect hip bone.
“Is that what you want?” I asked her. My voice had grown low and was raspy with need, but I kept my hands down at my sides. “Should I give you space?”
Iris blinked once and looked up at me as if she was seeing me for the first time. There was something like awe written across her face.
“Do you have any idea how good you are?” she asked me in a soft, reverent tone.
“That’s not an answer to my question,” I said.
Iris didn’t ever give me an answer to my question, because instead, she stepped toward me and closed the space that had lingered between us. The heat radiating from her body made me feel drunk in a way I never had before, and when she crashed into me like a wave, I was more than willing to let her drag me under.
Iris’ lips slammed into mine, and I let out a low, desperate groan into her mouth. She slid her arms around me to rest on my hip and my lower back as she pressed her perfect body flush to mine.
This kiss was even sweeter than the one before, and when she parted her lips to let my tongue slip inside her to explore, I could barely keep myself on my feet.
I reached up and slid one arm around to press against her lower back, and I used my other hand to tangle up in her hair and pull her even closer to me as we kissed with a hot, intense passion.
Her long, nimble musician’s fingers danced over my skin and left trails of heat in their wake, and finally, they curled in the waistband of my boxers.
“You should probably take these off, too,” she murmured as she pulled out of our kiss.
“What a great idea,” I breathed and started to pull them down without any further hesitation.
Iris took a small step back from me to deal with her own clothing, and I couldn’t bring myself to look away from her as she did so.
Jesus fucking Christ.
She tugged off her paper-thin shirt first, and then she shimmied her bell-bottom jeans and panties off in one fluid motion as she toed out of her sneakers.
That was all it took, and then she was standing naked in front of me, with nothing on but the old-school Sailor Jerry tattoo on her right arm.
“Fuck,” I groaned as I took in the sight of her like I would never get a chance to see it again.
It was perfectly clear to me how exactly she had been able to pull some of the biggest names in rock back in the seventies, because she looked like a goddamn supermodel.
Her tits were perfectly round and perky, and they looked like they would fit perfectly in each of my hands. Her nipples were just as delectable looking as they had been through her shirt, and I was overwhelmed with the urge to lick them, just to see the sort of sounds she would make.
Her body was lithe and lean, and her legs went on for miles. Her stomach was flat and toned, and the freckles that dotted her face made an appearance on the rest of her tanned, perfect skin.
“Oh,” she breathed in sharply as she looked down at my cock now that it was free of my boxers.
“What?” I asked, and a wave of concern rushed through me. “Is something wrong?”
Iris opened her mouth, but no words came out for a moment. She cleared her throat and looked back up at me. “Don’t laugh, but… it’s much bigger than I was expecting.”
“Yeah?” I tilted my head to the side. “Are you just trying to stroke my ego because I fought an alligator for you?”
Iris’ eyes hadn’t left my cock, and she licked her lips again. “Not what I’m trying to stroke.”
Well. There went any of my composure.
I closed my eyes and reached down to curl my hand around the base of my shaft, but before I could touch myself, I felt someone move my hand aside and replace it with their own.
Iris’ touch was light, but she stroked her fingers over me in a slow, tantalizing motion, like she wanted to feel all of it first. A low, pleased groan rose up from the back of my throat at her touch, and my hips bucked into her waiting palm.
She curled her long fingers around me and started to stroke in a slow, easy motion that made my knees go a little weak. Fuck it, why was I standing at all?
I wrapped one arm around Iris’ waist and dropped down onto the edge of the bed. I pulled her with me, and she let out a surprised little laugh as the two of us fell onto the mattress together, but her hand never left my dick.
“I’m injured, so you can’t blame me for wanting to sit,” I joked breathlessly. I opened my eyes to look up at her and saw that the blue of her eyes had gone so dark with lust it was nearly black. She stared down at me through her lashes as she continued to slowly stroke my cock.
With our new position, she was now balanced over me on her knees with one elbow propped up on the bed. It was definitely one of the best things I’d ever seen.
“What?” Iris asked. “You’re staring.”
“Because you’re one of the sexiest women I’ve ever fucking seen,” I murmured. “And I really want to know what you feel like wrapped around my cock.”
Iris froze, and I was momentarily worried I had pushed her too far, but then her lips were on mine again, and all my doubts melted away. She dropped down and pressed her body to mine. Her hips rolled, and I felt the head of my eager cock brushing against her wet, hot slit.
