I grimaced. “No. I don’t want to know. Thinking about it makes me feel violent.”

“Well, that’s hardly productive, especially since you’ve been hitting that bareback. You really need to ask these things.”

“Trust me, I know how stupid I’ve been, but I don’t have the stomach for it.”

“You are a bundle of contra-fucking-dictions my man, but I won’t knock you for it. She is . . . whew, she is enough to make you forget you ever had a brain, let alone how to use it.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“I can’t stand the thought of her with that guy, or f**k, any guy. It keeps me up at night, but she won’t so much as talk about him.”

“Being possessive gets you exactly jack shit. I can’t figure out why you do it.”

I studied him like he was a science experiment. “Are you saying you’ve never felt possessive of a woman?”

“Never. Fuck no. What a useless sentiment. Not even a little bit.”

I shook my head. “You’ve never had real feelings for a woman before, then.”

“I beg to differ. Isn’t ‘me man, me have boner,’ a feeling?”

That surprised a deep laugh out of me, partly at his expense. “Shit, man, you are in for it. You think you’re invincible, but some woman is going to come along and shake up your whole world one of these days. You better just hope she’s not as heartless as you are.”

“I’d rather spend my time hoping she has a rack like Iris, f**k, or just her clone would be nice.”

I socked him hard in the arm.

He bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Iris was talking to a group of young attractive girls in bikinis. They seemed to get on well right off the bat, even started dancing with each other in short order.

Iris started shaking her ass and h*ps in a familiar way.

I pointed it out to Turner, who I was sure had been watching the whole f**king time, the bastard.

“That thing she’s doing, is that twerking?” I asked him, feeling ancient and a little slow, but wanting to know.

“Holy hell, yes it is.” He whistled long and low. “No wonder she’s an ace in bed. Smooth. My God. I bet she works your c**k so good it scrambles your brain.”

I punched him harder in the arm. His tone and words had earned him that and more.

He grimaced, rubbing the spot where I’d hit him twice. They hadn’t been light blows. “My bad.”

We were both momentarily distracted when one of the girls Iris was dancing with reached to finger the strings draping her hips.

I heard Turner suck in a sharp breath.

I socked him in the arm again, because I was pretty sure I could read his mind.

After a vigorous (and distracting) round of dancing, Iris approached the cabana.

“Will you show me to the powder room?” she asked me, breathless from her exertions.

“I can show you,” Turner told her.

I glared at him and stood.

“We’ll be back,” I said, trying my damnedest to sound neutral.

I was pretty sure I knew what she had in mind, and I was hoping it wasn’t just wishful thinking on my part.

Iris looked too delectable not to touch. I wrapped my arm tight around her waist as I led her back to the house.

I squeezed her hip and put my lips to her ear. “Do you really need a powder room?” I asked.

She nodded.

Inwardly, I cursed, but I showed her the way as politely as I could.

The house had about a half a dozen bathrooms, but I led her to the one that adjoined one of Turner’s downstairs gaming rooms, because the space was more private, though the room didn’t have a proper door, just a secluded hallway that branched it off from the main part of the house.

“Wait here for me?” she asked, looking up to give me very good eye contact.

I nodded, taking a seat on the room’s large sofa. I was already hard. I wouldn’t dream of leaving now.

The music out back was pumping loud enough that even this quiet room had some bass vibrating through it.

I leaned against the couch, throwing my arms over the back, letting my head fall back. I’d only had one Mai Tai, but I wasn’t much of a drinker, and it was enough to have me feeling happily relaxed.

And an afternoon of watching Iris dance in a bikini was hardly a bad deal, aching c**k or no.

I didn’t open my eyes when I heard the restroom door open. I felt, more than heard, as Iris move over to me, every nerve in my body tuned in to her.

My heartbeat picked up, my c**k throbbing in time to it, as I felt a light touch against the outside of my thigh.

I reached and felt a slender ankle there. She’d perched her foot up on the couch.

“Come closer,” she said softly.

I opened my eyes and shifted forward until I was sitting on the edge of my seat, face inches from her naval.

She smiled and started rolling her hips.

“Take your shorts off,” said Iris.

She didn’t have to say it twice. They were off in a flash.

She stayed in her tease of a bikini, dancing for me, driving me wild, and by the twinkle in her eye, loving every second of it.

I kept my hands to myself for maybe five minutes.

She threw her leg over my shoulder and started gyrating into my face.

That was my breaking point.

I had her ass cupped in my hands, my mouth nuzzling her bikini aside to eat her pu**y between one gyrate and the next, one hand still cupping her ass, the other working to untie her stringy, triangle bottoms.