7. Trevor

7

TREVOR

Last night shouldn’t have happened. But I can’t stop thinking about it.

Kissing Iris, holding her, being inside her brought back all the forever-feelings I had that prompted me to propose to her.

Of course, the way we left things should have been the final, final nail in the coffin.

She was in tears for fuck’s sake. Not the good kind from an incredible orgasm, but the heartbreaking kind.

All day today, knowing I am going to see her at the Hawthorn LTD. Christmas party, I prepare to be polite. To pretend last night never happened. For her sake. Not mine. I’m breaking my own heart with that.

But then she walks in wearing a floor-length glittery green dress that shows off all her curves and…

Well, I’m only a man.

I pull on the hem of my suit jacket to remove any wrinkles even though I had it freshly pressed this morning, polish off my glass of champagne, then grab Oliver’s out of his hand and down that too.

“Jesus, dude, slow down.” There’s a humored smile on his lips.

“You tell me that when your ex-fiancée walks in wearing a dress like that, and you…” … had a moment of weakness and slept with her last night .

I didn’t tell Oliver, obviously. Knowing he and Rowan invited Iris here under the guise of trying to get us to remember what we had makes this all the more complicated. Because, dammit, I am remembering.

And if I had held her all night last night, I think I might have gotten down on bended knee again this morning right in her hotel room.

If Oliver and Rowan find out about last night, they’re going to start encouraging me to be stupider, and I’m already fine at that on my own.

“I mean this platonically, but damn, green looks good on her.”

I glower at Oliver.

“Platonically! I promise. I think my wife is the sexiest woman in any room.” Oliver glances over at Rowan, who is chatting with some coworkers across the room. Oliver grins at me. “Iris is all yours.”

“Dude, that’s not happening.” It doesn’t come out as strong as I’ve been able to muster over the past week.

Oliver shrugs. “I’m just saying. You’re hot, she’s hot. You have been historically hot together in the past.”

I tuck my tongue into my cheek, swiping another glass of champagne from a passing serving tray.

Oliver shrugs. “You don’t want to make anything happen, fine, but then you can’t throw a fit if Iris goes home with someone tonight.”

My stomach drops. “What?”

“You heard me.”

I nearly shatter the delicate champagne glass in my hand.

“Don’t act surprised. She’s a pretty girl, and she deserves to have fun if that’s what she wants.”

“ Is that what she wants?” Desperation oozes through my words.

“Rowan mentioned the two of them talked about it the other night,” Oliver replies as if there’s nothing off about what he’s saying.

I know last night I had Rowan. I was the man she went home with last night, but given how she reacted to me afterward, I don’t think that will happen again. Not by a longshot.

“Has she…” I watch Iris as she greets Ash and Rye, giving them hugs and kisses on the cheeks. “Does she do that often?”

“Not my business.”

“Bullshit. You’ve already divulged plenty that isn’t your business, so just tell me–”

Oliver interrupts, staring me dead in the eye. “Why do you care, man? You’re broken up. For good. Or so you say.”

I lick my lower lip. “Are you on my side or not?”

“We’re adults. There are no sides. There’s just seeing your friends be miserable and knowing they could be happier together and wishing they’d stop being so prideful and see that.” Essentially, Oliver just admitted in a circular way to wanting Iris and me back together.

I shake my head. “I need to…go talk to someone else.”

“Do what you gotta do, bro. Just know you can’t run away forever.”

I wave a hand at him. I’m done with this bullshit. I need to talk to someone who doesn’t have any stake in Iris and me getting back together. Someone who doesn’t even know me. So, I prowl the party, making small talk here and there, unable to really sink into an actual conversation because each time I seem to be getting on with someone, Iris is a bit too close for comfort, walking my way or getting involved in a conversation nearby.

I’ve had too much champagne too. I’m not drunk, I just have a headache from too much sugar. So, I go over to the spread of food to try and load up on some carbs.

I load up a plate with mini quiches and crostini with caviar, hoping to settle the pounding in my head.

As I step away from the table, a server walks past me with a tray and a big smile. “Champagne?”

“No, no more champagne,” I give her a sheepish smile.

“Oh, come on, it’s Christmas.” She shimmies her shoulder with a glint in her eye.

The woman, she’s young. Has to be fresh out of college. Her smile is charming, thanks to the gap in her teeth. And her hair is cropped short in a black pixie cut.

“Well, when you get to be my age, it’s a hangover waiting to happen. I’ll be out until New Year’s if I’m not careful.”

She giggles and gives me a pat on the arm. “Oh, come on, you can’t be old enough to say ‘my age’.”

“You want to guess how old I am?”

“Twenty-five?”

I burst into laughter. “You’re being way too generous.”

“I’m not good at guessing ages. Besides, it’s really not polite…” She trails off, looking around the party.

I get the feeling she should be moving on, but she’s locked in a conversation with me.

Oh, shit, she’s flirting. She’s cute, sure, but too young for me.

I can’t deny it’s nice to be wanted, at least a little bit. “What’s your name?”

“Jamie.” She smiles.

“Trevor. Nice to meet you.”

“Very nice. Do you work at Hawthorn?”

“No, I’m a friend of the family.”

“What do you do?” Her interest piques in her voice.

Ah, she probably wants to know if I’m rich. “I’m a portfolio manager at a hedge fund.”

“Whoa. What’s that like?”

Smart girl. Take a job serving at a big company party, rub elbows with the guests, come out a trophy wife.

I didn’t want to end up with someone who wanted me for my money. Which is why I loved Iris so much. Loved her spirit, loved her passion for her work, her big dreams.

What a horrid person I am for turning away from her when she followed her dreams exactly the way I always told her I wanted her too.

Yes, she went about it in a way that hurt me more than I knew how to say.

But then I went back on everything I ever told her and cast her aside.

Maybe I am the monster here.

“It’s boring. You wouldn’t want to hear about it.”

“Of course, I would.” Jamie looks at the party again. “Listen, I have to work, but maybe after the party…”

I tune her out as I scan the party too. My gaze gravitates toward Iris’s green dress immediately .

I’m not the only one flirting. She’s talking with a guy in a burgundy suit and a white button down that’s open almost to his navel. An Italian stallion type.

Dammit, Oliver wasn’t just trying to get under my skin. He meant what he said.

Iris wants to get over me by getting under someone else.

I suddenly feel a fire under my ass. I think it’s been there a long time, long enough that now I’m being scorched.

“Excuse me, Jamie, I’m sorry, I have to take care of something.” I drop my plate on her tray. “But great chatting with you.”

The woman’s eyes widen. “Oh, okay, yeah, nice to meet you! Maybe I’ll see you later!”

Don’t mean to break her heart, but no, she won’t.

I stride across the room, all my energy focused on Iris.

Inside me, there is an undeniable pulse.

Mine .

Iris sees me coming, her charming smile shifting to a look of surprise.

I’m tossing out the unspoken rule of ignoring each other.

When I make it over to her close quarters conversation with the guy with the chesticles, I don’t say hello to her, but to him. “Hey, man!”

The guy looks up from Iris to me, bewilderment flashing over his face for a second, only a second. “Man! Hey! I didn’t know you’d be here.”

I could laugh.

I’ve never met this guy, but I’ve made him think he’s forgotten me, and now he’s lying through his teeth, trying to get through this interaction to save face. “Of course I would be! You crazy?!”

I hold out my hand, and he takes it in a hearty handshake.

I take it a step further and pull him in for a bro hug, smacking his back. “Merry Christmas, man!”

“You too, man!”

“I’ve never heard the word ‘man’ used so many times in under a minute,” Iris breathes out before sipping on her red martini.

“Iris!” I exclaim. “Good to see you!”

The man looks between us. “You know each other?”

“You could say that.” Her lips are folded in a thin line as she stares me down. She knows me well enough to know exactly what I’m doing.

“We go way back.” I shove myself in between Iris and the guy.

The guy smirks.

I’m not subtle, that’s for sure. And the fact he can tell what I’m doing doesn’t faze me one bit.

“Do you?”

I nod. “To the stone age.”

Iris grabs my arm and smiles at me, a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “You know, Milo, I think Trevor and I have a bit of catching up to do, so–”

He smiles. “You have my number. Let me know if you want to get together before you go back to Seattle.”

I want to sock this guy in the jaw, send him into next year.

“No, I’ll only be a minute. Here.” She has the gall to hand the guy her drink. “Be right back.”

Iris pulls me away from Milo and down a nearby corridor, far enough so we won’t be overheard. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Me? What’s wrong with you? You just trust this guy with your drink ?”

Iris crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re being dramatic.”

“You’re in town for like four more days, you don’t have time to–”

“Who are you, my dad?”

I scoff. “No! I just know a fuckboy when I see one!”

Iris rolls her eyes. “I don’t care if he’s a fuckboy, I’m just trying to have some fun, and you–” She pokes me right in the chest. “—are spoiling it.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“Since when did you care about protecting me?”

My jaw falls open. “Always. Forever. I will always care about you, Iris.”

“Okay, well, then you can care about me by listening to me say, ‘Back off’, okay?” She starts back down the hall to the party, her hips swishing.

God fucking dammit.

My gut churns. Primal. No. Feral .

I am propelled down the hallway by a biological force, one demanding I protect what’s mine. It doesn’t matter if I know she’s not mine, my body believes she is, and I can’t ignore that.

When she’s within reach, I grab her arm and turn her back to face me.

“Trevor, what the actual fu–”

I kiss her. Hard. Wrap my arm around her waist and press her body to mine, reminding her of last night when we were as close as too people can be. When I came inside her. Left my mark.

She doesn’t pull away. In fact, she moans into my mouth.

I end the kiss and growl, “I’m not gonna watch some guy who doesn’t know how to take care of you try and get into your pants.”

“You think you know how to take care of me?” A challenge.

Pulling her into the nearest doorway, a conference room, I close the door tight behind us.

I stalk toward Iris, relishing how she backs away from me, her chin held high and proud.

“We’re not done, Iris. Not yet.”

“You’re the one who–”

“Fuck, I know I’m the one who!” I grit my teeth.

I push her up against the end of the conference table, boxing her in. “It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

Iris’s chest heaves, the mounds of her breasts looking shadowy and delectable. But that’s not what I want.

“Tell me no, and I’ll back off.”

A smile appears on her lips, rueful. “No, I’m still waiting for an answer. Do you think you know how to take care of me, Trevor McCoy?”

I wince internally at her use of my full name. I hate my last name for a multitude of reasons. But I cast the thought aside for more important, immediate matters.

Grabbing her thighs, I push her up onto the edge of the table. I’m not going to tell her. I’m going to show her. “This dress is unfair.”

“Well, this suit is unfair, but I know how to control myself.”

“You won’t know how to control yourself when my mouth is on your pussy.” I push the skirt of her dress up, revealing her bare thighs and… “No underwear?”

Iris looks to her bare center, then back to me. Her cheeks are red.

“You were planning on something happening tonight.” My chest twists. “Weren’t you?”

“I hoped.”

“With him?” I lean close to her so our mouths almost touch.

Iris doesn’t reply.

“You wanted to fuck someone else tonight?”

“I wanted to fuck someone tonight to forget about last night.”

I hold my breath.

“Because last night was…” She presses her fist against my chest like she could drive me away but doesn’t have the strength too. “So fucking good, and I want to forget it ever happened or else I’ll never be able to get over you.”

“You’re not over me?”

She kisses me, her tongue twirling around mine, a hot, wet kiss. “Don’t play dumb, Trevor. Now show me you know how to take care of me better than any other man ever could.”

Her hand engulfs the back of my head as she guides me toward her aching pussy.

I chuckle.

I love a woman who knows what she wants. Especially when it’s what I want more than anything too.

My lips connect with her lower ones, and I begin to devour her like she’s never known the pleasure of an orgasm.

I always act like it’s her first one. I have to be insistent and adept but tender at the same time.

“Fuck you, Trevor,” Iris chokes out, her hips grinding against my mouth.

I press my hand to her chest and encourage her to lie back.

She does so, giving me a better angle between her legs to lap up her sweet essence.

Wrapping my arms around her thighs, I pull her pussy tight to my mouth so she has no ability to squirm away from me, no way to escape the pleasure I’m going to give her.

Iris curses further like she hates me for this. Yet, her fingers knit through my hair, holding me in place.

She hates how much she loves this.

And that only inspires me to pleasure her even more.

Her high heel digs into my back. “Oh my god, Trevor. You’re–oh my god .”

I release her from my mouth for just a moment, her taste lingering on my tongue. “Come on my tongue, Iris.”

“No, I’m not going to give you that satis–”

I wrap my lips around her clit and roll it between my lips without any mercy.

“Ah!” Iris’s fingers tighten on me. “I hate you.”

You love me , I think.

“I hate you.”

You love me.

“ Trevor .” My name comes out of her mouth like a prayer. Like I am her religion. Like we are salvation.

That’s what we used to be. When we found one another, neither of us could believe just how perfect we were for each other. How we found our soulmate on a dating app, a total anomaly, and even how without sex, that first night together felt like the beginning of the rest of our lives. Of our forever.

And in this moment, right here, me between her legs, it’s so easy to remember that forever.

Something courses through me, sending my body lurching forward.

I press my groin onto the table’s edge and realize how turned on I am. If there is any way for me to be closer to her, I would be.

“I’m– I’m–” Iris whimpers until she’s moaning.

Her thighs tighten around my head and her body shakes.

Her orgasm courses so powerfully I can feel it reverberating through me, all the way down to my toes, hardening my cock even more. And her essence gushes into my mouth, a tangy and sweet delicacy on my tongue.

I love this. I love her . I always will.

Thank god she’s leaving in a few days or else I’d do something stupid like ask her to try again, to forget all the problems and…just try.

Iris takes me off guard, pulls away from my mouth, then grabs my shoulders and drags my mouth to hers.

We kiss. And kiss. And kiss.

We’ve forgotten about the party down the hall. Forgotten that people might overhear us. Forgotten we will have to be presentable when we emerge from this erotic cocoon. Messing up each other’s hair, wrinkling our fancy clothes, not to mention Iris’s makeup.

As I’m distracted with thoughts of the party, Iris grabs my erection through my pants. My mouth breaks from hers.

“Iris,” I breathe against her mouth. “We should go back.”

“You’re not going to get to walk around that party with the satisfaction you made me come. It’s my turn now.”