Was it all women, or just the ones I knew, that I couldn’t understand to save my own life?

“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked slowly, stressing the words.

“I didn’t want you to stop. I was so close to coming. And who cares? Let her watch. Let her see that you’ve moved on.”

I hated the invasion of privacy, but I would have been a hypocrite if I’d taken issue, considering all the details of our sex life I’d shared with Turner.

Still, talking about and seeing were two very different things. If Turner had watched us having sex, I’d have punched him in the nuts, and worse.

“I’d have preferred she not see us like that,” I explained, using my most reasonable tone.

“Well, that wasn’t exactly an option. She’d already seen us. You were inside of me, buried to the hilt, when I noticed her. And correct me if I’m wrong, but if you’d confronted her, she wouldn’t have just left calmly and let us finish. It would have been a screaming match. Given the choice between an amazing orgasm, or a frustrating argument, which would you choose?”

I couldn’t dispute any of it, and none of this was on her, anyway. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not upset with you. It’s her. It’s infuriating that she’s still finding ways to mess with me. I look forward to the day when she doesn’t get to me.”

“Your divorce got really ugly,” she observed.

“Yes. I’ve clocked in a lot of hours, expended a lot of energy despising that woman. How did I spend so much time on a woman like that? She’s so hateful. And also, so easy to hate.”

“When you invest in negative, it’s like owning stock. You made the mistake of doing that, by playing her little games, falling into her little traps, but it’s not the end of the world. You need to just sell it back, and move on with your life.”

Another statement I couldn’t dispute. “I’m getting better at it,” I reassured her.

“What do you mean?”

“Moving on with my life. It took me a while, but I’ve done it.”

“Good. But don’t move too fast. I’d hate to see you move on from me.”

“Well, quit leaving all the time, and you won’t have to worry.”

She was fully dressed, wet hair scraped back from that flawless face of hers. “I’ll always come back. Just remember that.”

I wanted so badly to believe her that for the moment I did.

Things had changed a bit when we finally made our way back to the party.

Turner now shared his cabana with the three girls that had been dancing with Iris earlier. One was dancing on his lap, one plastered to his side, the other dancing in front, putting on an impressive display.

Even three of them weren’t enough of a distraction to keep him from spotting me nearly the second we stepped outside. He started waving me over.

With a sigh, I went.

Iris stopped me with a touch.

I turned, looking down at her.

She reached her arms around my neck, standing on her tiptoes while she pulled me down to kiss her.

It was a long, hot kiss. She didn’t hold back, letting me have it, sucking on my tongue.

When she pulled back a few of my IQ points had transferred below my waist, and I wasn’t thinking too clearly.

She gave me some good, steady eye contact. “I’m going to swim and probably dance. I’ll come join you in a bit, okay?”

I nodded, then watched her walk away.

By the time I reached Turner, the girls had left the cabana. They’d gone to dance with Iris, and I wasn’t sure if it was their idea, or if he’d kicked them out.

“Well, I don’t have to ask what you’ve been up to,” he said wryly as I took a seat a few feet to his right.

“Good. Don’t.”

Because he was smarter than he looked, he dropped the subject right there.

“Your ex is here,” he said casually.

I scowled. “So I’ve heard.”

“She was flying around out here on her broomstick earlier, but it’s strange, she keeps disappearing into the house. Should I be worried about the silver? Or worse, my collection of Macs?”

“Hell if I know. I gave her millions, and she still hits me up for money every time I see her. And I guess she just spied on Iris and me going at it in your rec room.”

He shot me a look, and I grimaced. I shouldn’t have said that, but it was too infuriating not to share.

“So she saw you . . . ?” he prompted.

I waved that off. “I’m not giving details, you pervert, not anymore, not now that you can put a face on the whole thing.”

“But what a face,” he mused, and I knew he was watching Iris. She was laughing as dancing with the other girls.

“Stop it,” I warned.

“I wasn’t doing anything. I wasn’t picturing even one elicit thing. Holy shit, look at her rolling those hips. She’s a f**king pro.”

The girls started getting loud, hooting and clapping, and I glanced over to see Iris doing one of her mind-boggling moves, knees bent, ass swinging at sharp angles with the music’s heavy bass.

“What’s that called?” I asked Turner, trying not to drool.

“That’s booty popping. Every white sorority girl in the world tries that move, usually badly, but f**k me, she knows how to do it right.”

I punched him in the arm.

“I swear to God, I’m getting some poles installed back here. I’d bet money she knows how to work a pole.”