Page 27 of Iris' Lying Eyes
Baring my teeth, I murmur, “Right.”
His eyes flicker before dropping to my heaving tits. “Careful, or I’ll think you’re jealous. That can’t be true, can it?”
“Yeah, not even fucking close.”
He smirks as I seethe before he says, “You can suck my dick right now?”
Ignoring the pulse in my panties, I mutter, “You can go fuck yourself.”
Grunting, he turns and tosses over his shoulder, “Be ready in an hour.”
“For what?”
But I don’t get a response, and glancing toward the door, I sigh. Maybe tomorrow?
∞∞∞
An hour later, I’ve changed into one of the outfits Mrs. O’Keefe left behind. Although not something I ever thought I’d be caught dead wearing, I’m secretly pleased with the results.
The little black dress covers me from neck to knees and bells at the hem. Cap sleeves cover my shoulders, and a sweet little bow adorns the waist.
I slip on a pair of sleek black heels and arrange my wild hair in a ponytail. The only thing missing is makeup, but I dismiss the vague uneasiness I feel as I step down the stairs.
Put me in a slutty dress, and I’ll own the outfit, but as I approach the front door, I can’t help but wonder if I look like a fraud.
My pleasure from before fades, and I clench my hand, allowing the bite of pain in my palms to center me.
I don’t care what other people think.
Still, when I find Bastion waiting by the door, looking me over with a weird frown, I admit I wanted him to see me as something different.
And my stomach plummets when he merely says, “Let’s go.”
I quietly follow him out the door, sliding into the SUV and staring out the window. I don’t like the feeling of vulnerability that assails me. It’s another reason to go.
Bastion may be the bastard who broke my heart, but he’s also the guy who showed me what intimacy could be. It’s a gift he’ll never understand that he gave me but also a punishment because, with every cruel word, he breaks down those memories.
And I’ve needed those fucking moments to ground me.
When he shifts, I glance at him and meet his cool stare. Raising a brow, I murmur, “What?”
“Why are you so quiet?”
“What, I can’t be quiet?”
“No,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “You’re not fucking quiet.”
Shrugging, I smile, although it’s bittersweet. “You don’t know me.”
He eyes me speculatively. “No, you were a lie from the very start.”
I want to deny it, but in some ways, it’s true. By the time I met Bastion, I was already forming the woman I would be today, and the girl I was before was slowly dying inside.
None of this matters, though. “Where are we going?”
“I have a meeting. You can sit with the women.”
“Nice,” I scoff. “What next? Tea?”