Falling in Reverse (The Seasons Change)

by Julia Wolf

Oh, to be a dog, smelling arse to decide if the company’s worth keeping.

“I saw you cry.” Adam’s handsome, boy-next-door face crumpled in horror. “You don’t cry, Iris.” Rodrigo smacked his arm. “You’d cry if someone did that to your shit.” Hope crossed her arms. “There’s nothing wrong with crying. Stop being surprised Iris has feelings.” I shook my crust at her. “Listen to this girl. She knows things.”

I’ve just never seen her so…” He rubbed his forehead, searching for the right word. “Gorgeous?” I supplied, earning me a quirk of his lips. “Vivacious?” Hope tipped her chin in a way that could only be interpreted as a warning. Rodrigo cocked his head. “Insatiably hungry?” I stuffed my crust in my mouth with a growl. My bandmates had been around me enough to witness my instability in more ways than one. “No.” Adam puffed a heavy breath and curled his spread fingers toward his palms. “Vulnerable. I’ve never seen Iris so vulnerable.”

apartment break-in won’t faze me.” Even as I said it, my chin wobbled. Adam was right, I hated being vulnerable. Not that I tamped down my feelings, I just refused to put myself in a position of weakness. “Iris—” Adam started to reach out to me, but the scowl I gave him stopped him in his tracks. “Don’t you dare. If you hug me, I’ll cry again.” He stared me down with his sweet-boy eyes that brought in all the ladies, but they’d never once worked on me. He still tried it from time to time when he wanted something—or wanted to get out of something. Sweet boys didn’t charm me, though. I was more into the bad, bad boy who would either murder me or eat me alive.

“S’up, flower child?” he rasped out, pinching his joint between two fingers. I laid my head on his shoulder. Rodrigo was the sweetest human alive. He’d managed to hang on to his kind heart and optimistic soul through all the corruption and blackness of our industry. “I’m pissy, Roddy. My beautiful bed is all gone.” “That sucks, man. Want me to buy you a new one?” “Yes, please.” I held my joint up to my lips, pinky out like a goddamn lady. “You got it.” He tugged on my hair. “I’m so fucking sorry this happened. I’m worried about you.” I picked up my head, goose bumps pricking my arms. “Don’t worry about me. I’m safe and sound.” “What were you thinking not having an alarm?” he admonished gently. Hope raised her hand from across the room. “Don’t make me whack you too, Go.” Adam rubbed his cheek. “She’s violent.” His eyes narrowed, and his mouth tipped into a playful smirk. “Maybe you like that…?” I sputtered a laugh, smoke passing my lips. “Shut up, Adam.” That was such a common refrain in our group, he didn’t even blink when we said it. “And I do have an alarm, I just forgot to set it.” I mumbled that last part, but from the groan coming from Roddy, he heard me. I would have groaned at me too. I’d lived in the city my whole life. I knew better. But sometimes I forgot I wasn’t invincible. My possessions sure as shit weren’t. Rodrigo tapped my nose. “Set. Your. Alarm.” I blew a puff of smoke in his face, which he inhaled into his own lungs. “Talk. About. Something. Else.”

Adam turned to me, frowning like he tasted something atrocious. I curled my lip to convey to him the idea of us being together was even more disgusting to me. I couldn’t remember a time, even when we first met years ago, where I wanted to put my lips anywhere on his body. As cute as he was, my brain had slotted him into the friend category and he’d never left. Which was convenient since fucking bandmates was verboten.

he brushed my hair away from my ear and whispered, “Don’t chop off my dick in my sleep.” “I can’t believe you threw me under the bus.” His hands went up in innocence. “I had no fucking idea Goodman basically has a security company on retainer. Can you admit it’s not the worst thing ever?” My eyes narrowed into razor-sharp slits. “I will never admit that, and you know why.”

Adam abandoned me in my darkest hour. Dramatic, yes, but I wanted him to feel as guilty as possible for going to the gym with Roddy during my consultation with LSS. I wondered what it stood for. Large Smelly Sacs Looming Sentient Sofas Love Swallowing Semen

I’ll have to insist I stay here with you until then.” Her eyebrows rose. “You’ll insist, huh? We’ll have a cute little sleepover?” I tucked my hands in my pockets. If I kept them loose, I might’ve given her the cute little shake she was asking for. “You’ll sleep. I’ll guard.”

Perhaps the eejit’s alibi isn’t as airtight as he led the police to believe.” She laughed and murmured “eejit” under her breath. “I prefer cocksucking motherfucker, but you do you, honey bunny.” She jumped to her feet, tucking her hands in her back pocket, and came to stand beside me so she could peer at my tablet. “What’s the plan? Build me a cage? A tower only a fair prince can rescue me from?” “Nah. Your hair’s not long enough to climb. Wouldn’t work.” Iris tilted her head back to peer at me with a pinched brow. “Was that...a joke?” “What makes you think I don’t joke?” She waved her hand in a circle in front of her. “Your whole thing. The perfect suit, the constantly scanning eyes, the way it seems to pain you to show a hint of any emotion besides disapproving concern. Maybe I just bring out the best in you.” “You bring out the professional in me.” Her lashes lowered to sweep her cheekbones. “No fun,” she murmured, kicking the fuzzy rug covering part of her wood floors. “I give in. Let me grab a few things and then you can lock me away again.”

“Aren’t you coming?” “I’m not. My office is a few blocks in the opposite direction. I’ll walk.” “You trust me to go straight to Adam’s apartment and not get kidnapped or murdered?” I frowned. “Now I don’t.” That made her laugh, and what a pretty sound it was. The most sultry music filtering through the thick air of a summer night. “You’re too much, Ronan. I promise I’m going straight there. Adam would murder me himself if I wandered around on my own.” I gave her a long look. “Text me when you arrive and have locked yourself in your tower.” She finger-gunned me. “Look at you, you jokester. Careful, I might start to think you’re human.” Backing away from her, I tucked my hands in my pockets and wiped any expression from my face. “Wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression.” Still laughing, Iris waved as she climbed into the car. “Bye, Ronan-bot.” “Ah, pet, you missed the perfect opportunity to call me Ro-bot.” She leaned out the window and snapped her fingers. “Damn. I’m slow on the uptake.” “Be careful.” The car pulled away from the sidewalk, and she stuck her hand out to wave. At least, that’s what I had thought she was doing. All her fingers curled inward, except for the middle one, which pointed skyward. Scrubbing my face with my hand to clear out the chaos that was Iris Adler, I walked to Aileen’s building. Steven greeted me at the door, looking hopeful it was dog park day. When I didn’t grab his leash from the hook on the wall, he gave me a look filled with disdain ...

Are you two finished gossiping like two wee schoolgirls?” Finn rocked back in his chair, grinning. “Never. Aileen brings out the best in me.”

Gripping the back of his headrest, I pulled myself forward, placing my lips beside his ear. “Do you have any tattoos, Ronan?” His head tilted slightly, but he didn’t turn around to answer me. I didn’t miss the goose bumps that rose on the back of his neck, though. If I couldn’t rough him up, at least I could affect him. “I don’t.” “Have you ever thought of getting one?” “No, I haven’t.” “What do you think of tattoos?” “As a whole?” I bit my lip, amusement bubbling through my chest at our stilted exchange. “Sure.” “I think they look ridiculous on most people. They represent poor decisions and planning.” That was awfully judgmental. There had to be a story there, but I doubt he’d ever willingly let it spill. “Do you think that about mine?” He paused, and the driver glanced over at him, no doubt sensing the weight behind my question. Ronan took his time answering, and when he did, it was as maddening as his silence. “I don’t.” That was it. That long pause had earned me two words. One of these days, I was going to take a pair of scissors and chop off his tie. Then I was going to mess up his hair and make him smile without reservation. He was asking for it, behaving this way.

“You don’t have to stay here, you know. Joaquin can protect me.” Ronan took a seat in a metal-legged chair in the corner of the room. “I’m all right here.” I perched on the bed where I’d soon be lying, swinging my feet and twisting my fingers. Ronan’s gaze zeroed in on my fidgeting, then flicked to meet mine. “Are you nervous?” he asked softly. “Antsy, and maybe a little nervous. This isn’t my first rodeo.” Understatement. I was a walking flash wall, as Logan had liked to call me. Asshole. He rubbed the corners of his mouth. “Does it hurt?” “It does. Joaquin’s going to finish the linework on a large piece, then he’s going to start the shading. I am dreading when he shades my ribs.” I shivered and kicked my feet even harder. “It’s worth it, though.” Before he could ask another question, Joaquin announced he was ready and it was time for me to lie down. I took off my hoodie and tossed it to Ronan. He clutched it with both hands and leaned forward in his chair, watching with intent. I didn’t mind being watched, and I especially liked how it felt to have his eyes on me like this. Joaquin pinched the end of my wife beater. “I need access to your entire back, baby. Off with this.” With one arm banded over my tits, I pulled my tank over my head, letting it puddle on top of my arm, and lay face down on the bed. From his corner, Ronan shifted forward and made a noise that sounded an awful lot like a growl. Joaquin laughed softly. “Oh, the big man doesn’t like that,” he whispered. I...

“Okay, baby, this part might not feel too good,” but I could never miss the slow drag of his gun against bone. I whimpered, working hard to keep my body still. “Shit,” I panted. “Oooh…” My nails dug into my forearms, willing myself not to writhe. I was the biggest wimp alive when it came to pain. I had no tolerance for it. My first tattoo had been the size of a dime on my inner wrist, and I’d nearly passed out. I’d sucked it up, though, putting on a mask of bliss for my stranger of an artist and the guy who’d come with me. If I hadn’t met and come to trust Joaquin, I would’ve kept hiding my reactions, but over the years we’d been working together, he’d given me the room to be honest and show how I was feeling. In turn, he worked as fast as he could on the sections he knew would be the death of me if he didn’t. “Breathe, baby girl,” he reminded me. “I’m trying.” Nails dug in even harder, jaw grinding. I was panting shaky, shallow breaths. The rolling storm that was Ronan loomed over me, nearly eclipsing the ceiling light. For a moment, he was nothing but shadow and a vibrating presence. In front of me, his hand curled into a tight fist, flexing in and out. “Are you okay, meala?” “I need you to move out of my light,” Joaquin said. “Iris?” Ronan ignored Joaquin’s demand, lightly touching the top of my head. “Do you need to stop?” “No.” My throat was thick. My breathing was labored. Speaking took more effort than I had to expend. Luckily, Ronan’s shadow moved away so Joaquin d...

Watching Iris be tattooed was as fascinating as it was an exercise in willpower. Allowing her to hold my hand during the more painful parts was beyond the pale of professionalism, but it was difficult to see a woman in pain and not offer some measure of comfort...even if the crazy thing had brought it on herself. “Oooh, that feels good, honey bunny.” Glassy-eyed, Iris rubbed her cheek against the padded bed. Her tattoo artist had moved to a different part of her back. A much less painful one from her reaction. She’d given me my hand back during her last break, flashing me a sheepish look while she sipped her soda. I pretended it hadn’t happened. That would make everyone’s life easier.

Iris stirred, shifting and moving her legs, but her gaze was still unfocused. She wasn’t quite back from whatever land she’d gone to to get through it. “Iris.” I patted her arm. “He’s all done, meala.” Her eyelids fluttered, lashes brushing her cheeks before they popped open and she moaned. “Hey.” Her mouth split into a wide, sleepy grin. “How does it look?” “I haven’t really looked at it.” “Mmm…” She stretched like a cat, eyes heavy-lidded like she’d just woken up. “So respectful, Ronan. I’m laid out in front of you, topless, and you haven’t taken a peek?” Not at your tattoo, I haven’t. The curve of her breast pressing into the bed couldn’t be missed. I’d nearly memorized the arched line of her back and the way her tight jeans cupped her arse, the seam splitting her cheeks apart. Iris was a stunning woman, the very shape of her effortlessly sensual. Not looking at her wasn’t an option. But that was how it went with famous women. They became famous for a reason beyond talent. Iris was magnetic, drawing attention, wanted or not. The others I’d spent time with had craved that attention, just as Iris probably did. Joaquin took her hand and helped her sit up. She swung her feet to the side of the bed and stood after taking a second to steady herself. Clutching her shirt over her tits, he gave her a mirror so she could see her reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall. She bounced on her toes, eyes flashing to mine. “Can you take a picture so I can see it better?” “I can...

she slipped past me and moved for the front. Without thinking, my hand shot out, catching her by the nape and yanking her toward me. She collided with my chest, too stunned to push away. Her head tilted back, wide eyes finding mine. Each time she sucked in a breath, her breasts were pressed against me. “You’re not going out that way,” I growled. “Stop being difficult.” With a firm hold on her neck, I steered her out of the shop and into the grimy alley. She shrugged a few times, but that was her only effort to break free of my grip. I felt the fury rolling off her, like an electrical charge in the air, making the hair on my arms stand on end. Funny, I wasn’t feeling too happy either. A few paps had found the alley, probably spotting the sleek, black Escalade idling there and banking on Iris making an appearance. I dropped my hand from her neck as soon as they came into view. Iris didn’t fight me as I ushered her into the back of the SUV, but she did pause to smile at the cameras and give a wave. It rankled me, but I stood my ground, keeping her safe and my opinion to myself. I dropped into the front seat, and we were on our way. Bill lost any tails we might’ve had, turning several extra times to be sure. Iris’s silence was explosively loud. Bill kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror, tsking under his breath. I knew I had hell to pay for losing my temper. I’d never touched a client the way I had Iris. Something came over me, a furious instinct to protect her, above my...

“You know what the worst part is?” she asked. “I don’t,” I replied. She leaned her head against the edge of the door, biting her bottom lip. Slowly, she let it free from her teeth. My stomach twisted, and my dick stirred to life at the sight of her like that. It didn’t matter how mad I was at her or how furious she was with me, her mouth was so sexy, it obliterated all sense and logic. Voice lowered and husky, she went on to tell me. “The worst part is when you grabbed me and held me against you, in the seconds before I got mad, my panties were flooded. I was so turned on by your big-strong-man show, it was shameful.” She released a dry, humorless laugh. “It’s too bad you ruined it by being you.”

I climbed on top of Adam’s coffee table with a beer in my hand like a microphone. “Attention, everyone! Attention.” My beer-mic was a piece of shit. It didn’t even project my voice. Only a few people crowded into Adam’s living room bothered paying attention to me. Jerks. I tipped my bottle into my mouth and swallowed half the contents. Roddy held his hands out to me. “Come on, baby. Time to get down and be a good girl.” I swatted at him. “No, sir. I have things to say.” Adam stumbled into his side, giving me a sloppy grin. “I don’t know, man. She looks like she’s got something to say.” “I just said that, asshole.” I tried to kick him and nearly lost my balance. The coffee table suddenly seemed higher than I remembered. “You’ve got to get this thing fixed. It’s moving.” Roddy shook his head. “I’m too baked for this. Where’s Hope? She’ll chaperone you fools.” I patted his soft, black hair. “Hope’s so nice. Why aren’t more people nice?” One of Adam’s douchelord friends smiled up at me, then trailed his glazed eyes down my body, pausing at the hem of my skirt. I tugged it down with sloppy hands, realizing it had ridden up to a scandalous level. “I can be nice. Real nice,” he slurred. “Oh, me too.” I snarled at him. “You know what I like? Pegging boys. I have this gorgeous dildo named Cynthia. She’s pink, ten inches, thick as my wrist.” Raising my arms over my head, I shoved my fingers in my hair. I poured a little beer on my head too, but it felt kind of refreshing so I kept g...

Ronan made sense. He was my marble sentinel, as steady as his voice. His sigh of defeat was music to my drunken ears. “Okay. I won’t hang up if you promise not to speak of Oompa Loompas. Those little orange shits give me the creeps.” I brought my knees up to my chest, curling into a dizzy ball. “I promise.” And then I started to cry and babble and sob a little more. Ronan never hung up. I fell asleep with my phone at my ear and my name being called from a faraway place that sounded a lot like Ireland.

“Ronan, I’m lonely.” “You’re not alone, meala.” “I like your voice. It makes me feel safe.” “I always want you to feel safe with me.” “If you reach your hand out of your covers, there’s a bottle of water on your nightstand. Painkillers too.” Startling at the sudden male voice in my bedroom, I shot up and scooted to the far side of my bed, clutching the sheet to my chest like it would protect me. I cracked one eye, finding Ronan seated in the corner, half cloaked in shadow. He tipped his head toward my nightstand. “Drink, Iris.” He was ordering me around again, but I had no room to fight him, not when he was right. I needed water and Tylenol, stat. I took a long pull of water, pleased it was room temp instead of icy, and swallowed three pills. I peeked under my blanket, relieved I’d put on a tank top last night. No panties, so my ass was bare, but at least my tits were hidden. “Why are you in my bedroom?” I asked. He took a long time to answer, leaning forward and clasping his hands between his knees. He was dressed in a dark suit, impeccable as always, and it was only nine in the morning. We contrasted so precisely right now, it was almost funny. “I thought I should check on you,” he replied, like it all made sense now.

“How did you get in?” I asked. “Adam.” I hated how he answered questions that way. No details, expecting me to accept what he said at face value and I guess infer the rest. I squinted at him, but he was impossible to read. “He let you in?” “Mmm.” He settled back in the chair again, cloaking himself in shadow. “Well…great. I’ll have to have words with him about allowing strange men into my bedroom while I’m unconscious. That was real cute of him.” “Probably. He opened the door and walked away. Didn’t even ask me why I was here before he fell asleep on the couch. He doesn’t take your safety as seriously as he should.” “Ugh, Adam.” I shook my head and pounded on my comforter. “So…” My eyes flared, waiting for him to tell me why he was here. And hoping he’d forgotten the phone call. “Why are you crying?” “Hope and Roddy are so beautiful. They deserve each other. Two little baby angels sitting in a tree. But what about me?” “What about you, Iris?” “Where’s my tree?” “Um—” “Do you think I can have something beautiful? God, I don’t even know if I want something like that. But it would be nice to know I could have it if I wanted it.” “If you want it, I don’t doubt you’ll have it.” “So, your apartment is ready for you to move back in. I have work to do this afternoon, so I thought I’d take you there this morning. If you’re ready to move back, of course. You might feel safer here or prefer living with Adam.” “Can I shower first? I need to wake up.” “Please do. You smell like the flo...

He had no idea that his lack of reaction to me was like catnip. It made me want to pounce on him, bat him around with my paws, play with him until he had no choice but to react.

he rubbed his chin and peered at me with narrowed eyes. I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, bracing myself for the lecture or rejection or dressing down I was about to receive. I already recognized that look in Ronan’s eyes. “Iris, I have to set some boundaries in our professional relationship.” My stomach dropped at the concerned condescension in his tone. Bracing myself hadn’t helped. “Honestly, you don’t have to do this. I’m sorry about last night. I feel embarrassed and awkward about it. It won’t happen again.” “I want someone’s hands on me. I miss that more than anything.” “Iris…” “Oh, shush. You would have put your hands on me if things had gone differently.” “We’re lucky it worked out how it did.” “Lucky? Are you happy my house was broken into? Are you a sadist, Ronan?” “Iris, I’m gonna need you to stop screeching.” He nodded, tucking his hands in his trouser pockets. “That’s good. I’ve had issues with past clients overstepping boundaries. I want you to feel you can call me if you need me, but—” “No, I get it. Please stop talking. I’m close to dissolving in a puddle of self-hatred. Next time I drink, I’ll preemptively block your number.” He huffed a laugh. “Not necessary. I didn’t mind your call last night, and you seemed—” Groaning, I buried my face in my hands. “Please, no more.” “You seemed sad.” He completely ignored my boundaries, that big, beautiful, rude man. “I was worried about you, that you might hurt yourself, so I stayed on the line.” I shook ...

“That’s the second time I’ve been called boring in as many days.” She cracked a grin. “Who’s tellin’ you truths now?” “Ahhh…” I rubbed the back of my neck, “Iris, my client. She has a lot of opinions.” “A girl after my own heart. I like that. Is she giving you any trouble?” One drunken phone call had given me more trouble than it had any right to. Iris had been sad, yes, but she’d been adorable and funny, softer than she normally was. “Do you sleep in a suit, Ronan?” “I don’t. Please stop crying.” “Tell me what you wear to bed and I will.” “A bunny suit, meala.” “With a fuzzy tail?” “Will you stop crying if I say yes?” “Probably. Or I might cry harder because that sounds so cute and I’ll never get to see it.” “If you’re a good girl, I might show you.”

She’d twisted me so much, drawn me into her web, I’d found myself in her room by dawn while she was sleeping. I couldn’t rationalize what had led me there, to be so impetuous. It wasn’t me, that was for damn sure. But nothing could have stopped me from seeing her with my own two eyes, and once I did, it had been impossible to force myself to leave.

“I have to head out.” I transferred the information I needed to my phone and shut down my computer before pushing back from my desk. “Call me if you need me.” She ducked her head as she always did, and I placed a kiss on top. We didn’t discuss feelings or exchange I love yous, but we did have our own way of showing it. To be sure, Aileen loved me like a son, but if I told her what I was about to go do, she’d kick my arse to next Tuesday. But, like my ma, I didn’t tell Aileen everything, and we both liked it that way.

Because underneath this three-thousand-dollar suit is a crazy motherfucker dying to be unleashed.”

I wanted him to see me, take a good look at my height, my size, feel the calluses on my hands, witness a fraction of how terrifying I could become when it came to protecting my own.

As I made clear to him with my hand around his throat, Iris was mine to protect. Mine.

Okay, I was not comparing Ronan and me to Claire and Dom. Where the hell had that come from? No wonder the man had to have a talk with me about professional boundaries. My lord, one fine Irishman in a suit and I had lost my fucking marbles.

Dominic cleared his throat at the edge of the room. “Iris, you have a visitor. I made him wait at the door, but I can send him away if you give me the word.” I sat up, confused and somewhat alarmed. “What? Who?” He rubbed his silver and black beard. “A big guy who says his name is Ronan. Seems like he’s the bodyguard you’re avoiding?” Rocketing to my feet, I threw apologetic looks to my friends as I strode for the door, gripping my beer bottle in my fist. Ronan better have a very good reason for showing up here or he’d be the proud recipient of a bottle to his big, beautiful head. Dominic snagged it from me just as I passed him. When my eyes flared with surprise, he chuckled. “I can hear your thoughts. No braining the bodyguard,” he admonished. “Fun sucker,” I muttered. Dominic had locked the front door up tight, which made me smile. I peered at Ronan through the peephole, and my smile grew. He paced the carpet on the other side like a caged animal. I could almost hear his roar.

Then, as if he knew I was there, he stopped and looked directly at the peephole, mouthing my name. I took my time unlocking each of the four locks, knowing he probably heard the clicks, then I cracked the door open and peeked out. “Why are you here?” I asked. He cocked his head, jaw fluttering with tension. “No hello?” Oh, this man chose to be both an asshole and smart-ass. “Hello, Ronan. Why are you here?” His chin jerked. “I should ask you the same. Unless you moved, this isn’t home.”

My hand shot up to slap his face, but he was much too fast, catching my wrist before I could even graze him. “You can fuck right off, Ronan Walsh.” “Gladly. Once you come with me and I tuck you away safely in your apartment.” His hold on me was just short of painful, and he glared at me like he was inches from murdering me or fucking me against the wall. “I’m not leaving with you. God, who do you think you are? You don’t get to make decisions for me or dictate where I go. You’re my employee, remember?” I could hear his molars gnashing as he held himself back. “I haven’t forgotten what my job is.” We were both panting, furious, and shaking. He gripped me like he had no intention of ever releasing me, and the hell of it was, I didn’t fight him. Our eyes were locked, fire passing between us as silent seconds ticked slowly, leaving space between them for one of us to spring into action. If he were closer, shorter, more reachable, I would have bitten his marble skin to see if he could be hurt. To find out if he was human. To make him feel. Heat emanated from the taut muscles he hid beneath his expertly tailored finery. My toes collided with his, sending the panicked message to my brain that we were too close. I should have been afraid of this man whose practiced control was on a razor’s edge.

I shrugged out of Ronan’s grasp. “If you cause any more of a scene, you’re fired. There is a sleeping baby in there, so just chill the hell out and stop acting like an absolute ape.” Ronan’s head dropped when I mentioned Baby G, obviously piecing together how utterly wrong and out of line he had been. I only hoped he took his shame to the grave with him, the asshole, because I wasn’t going to absolve him of it. “I won’t make a scene,” he promised.

In the elevator, Ronan hit the G for ground floor, and I hit twelve. “What are you doing?” he groused. “You’re three floors down, right? I’m going to your apartment.” The doors slid open on the twelfth floor, but Ronan’s arm shot out, barring my exit. He wasn’t as smart as he seemed to think because I ducked right under and made a run for it. He was on me in a second, snatching me off the ground and holding me dangling with my back against his chest and his mouth beside my ear. “You’re not going to my apartment. You’re going home.” “Really?” I turned my head so our faces were inches apart. “I think that’s exactly what I’m going to do. You don’t respect my boundaries, so I’m trampling yours.” Not even his unyielding marble arms would stop me.

Ronan was slow to put me back on my feet. Nothing about the way he was holding me was professional, and we both knew he wasn’t respecting his own boundaries, let alone mine. I felt how bunched his muscles were, how tightly he held himself. The thing about tension was, it either had to ease or something was going to snap. “Fine. Ten minutes, then I’m taking you home.” He bent forward to drop me, careful not to drag me over his dick. But I’d already felt it hard and thick on the back of my thigh while I’d been dangling. He couldn’t hide his reaction from me. From the feel of it, it really was a shame I couldn’t stand this man since there was so much of him to enjoy. And we might have had a good time together if I’d never gotten to know this side of him, but there was no going back now. Ronan Walsh probably considered foreplay to be ordering me to come and expecting me to comply at the force of his command.

Ronan unlocked his door, sighing as he held it open for me to enter. I was hit with the full force of his scent of soap and cloves, mixed with a tinge of smoke. The layout was smaller than Dom and Claire’s—who lived in the penthouse—and cozy where theirs was airy. I ran my fingertip along the plush, cracked leather couch in the living room and swept my gaze over the dark wood bookcases filled with books as thick as my arm. There were no knickknacks to speak of, but that was no surprise. On the wall was a great portrait of what had to be Ireland, a stone cottage nestled in rolling hills of green. “It’s nice.” Peering over my shoulder at Ronan, I arched a brow. “Very manly.” He stayed close behind me, and even though my back was turned, his presence was impossible to ignore. He was my dark shadow as I snooped around his apartment, opening cabinets, sniffing his soap in the bathroom, and finally entering his bedroom. I paused at the threshold to see if he’d stop me, to declare this space too personal. Since he didn’t, I trailed around the room. His bed was a king, with a heavy, rustic headboard and footboard. A thick, muted tone rug lined the wood floor, warming the space. I would have complimented Ronan on how comfortable his bedroom felt, but his ego didn’t need stroking. Instead, I wandered to his dresser and opened the top drawer. Ronan made something of a growl, but again, he didn’t stop me. I honestly had no interest in rifling through his underwear, but I did it anyway...

I jackknifed upright with a panicked need to obey. Right below that and rising to the surface was the simmering desire to disobey and see what happened. I met my two sides in the middle, taking my time leaving his bedroom, once I rolled all over his sheets and pillows, hoping my scent caught his nose later and drove him crazy. A shiver traveled down my spine, imagining Ronan in this bed, unable to escape me even in his sleep.

Ronan paced near his front door, shaking his hands in front of him like he was preparing to throw a punch. When he saw me approach, he yanked open the door and held his arm out to usher me through it. I straightened his tie as I passed, then trailed my nail over his scruffy cheek. He ignored me as well as he could while also watching me like a damn hawk. Bill, the driver, was waiting for us out front, and Ronan roared a sigh of relief when he locked me in the back seat. He and Bill talked while I sat quietly staring at the app icon he’d downloaded to my phone. Sneaky bastard. I still couldn’t believe he’d done this. But...I wasn’t going to delete it now that I knew it was there. At my townhouse, Ronan walked me to my door, his hand on the small of my back. He took out his own key to unlock the main entrance, but I stopped outside my apartment. “I have band practice Sunday,” I said. “Text me the time. I’ll pick you up.” “Okay.” His fingers flexed on my back. “No arguments?” “No.” I shook my head. “I think I’ve had enough of that for today.” I turned fully to him with my hand on my doorknob. “By the way, those walks I took with Daisy? I either had Adam or Mrs. Kraus with me. I know they’re not special forces trained like you, but I am trying to be careful.” His mouth barely quirked, but I saw relief in the slight sag of his shoulders, the movement of his fingers on my spine, how his head inclined toward mine. “Thanks for telling me. Now I won’t have to go home and pull my ha...

this long-haired man was Callum, the mysterious bass player whose online presence consisted of an article or two without so much as a quote from him. He allowed Iris to kiss each of his cheeks, and they spoke quietly to each other. She squeezed his arm and got in his face. My muscles tensed, prepared to pull her away from him, but he laughed and then she did too. When Iris turned around, she met my gaze, her eyes more lively than I’d seen since we first met. She was happy to be here, ready to make music with her band. She pointed at me, and her boys took note. “This wall of a man is Ronan. He gets paid to stalk me while looking dapper in custom suits. Everyone, say hi to Ronan.”

“I don’t know, boys, maybe we should add some Britt-Britt to our set list.” Rodrigo jumped up from behind the drums. “Only if I get to wear the schoolgirl costume.” Her head bobbed. “Of course, honey bunny. Was there ever any doubt?”

Iris sang like fog rising off a crystal-clear lake.

Her voice was dense yet untouchable, easy to get lost in, and even easier to drown beneath. I’d listened to some of TSC’s music out of curiosity, and it had captured my attention, but hearing it in person was something else entirely. Each member brought something different to the fold. Four distinct talents, melding together in clashing, perfect harmony. I was no music expert, but I knew what I liked. I liked this music. My knee started pulsing the longer I stood against the wall. My pride could be a dangerous thing, but I’d learned over the years since my injury not to let pride get in the way of healing, so I took a seat in one of the armchairs lining the far side of the room. That vantage point allowed me to have a visual of the door and Iris. My instinct said she was safe here. No one could get in unless they were supposed to be here. I probably could have run errands and she would have been fine, but my stronger instinct, the part that resided in my base center, roared for me to protect this woman at all times.

“Okay.” One word had never been more loaded. What I couldn’t decipher was exactly what it might have been loaded with. It appeared to be jealousy, but that was impossible. I couldn’t imagine Iris had ever been jealous a day in her life. Not of other beautiful women. Not of lovers gaining attention from someone else. Not of her bodyguard taking a phone call from a woman.

“Hey, Ronan,” she called. I raised my brows. “Yes?” “Was one of the thousands of forms I signed an NDA?” Frustration filtered through my bones like smoke. How could she have gotten this far without reading every word she signed her name to? “Of course we have a nondisclosure agreement,” I gruffed. Her toe twisted on the ground, the very picture of innocence. “Just making sure you remembered.”

“I’m going to sing a couple songs I’ve been working on, but nothing leaves this room, all right?” Tipping my head back, I met her clear blue gaze. “What if I sing in the shower?” She fucked with me, I fucked right back. After a moment of hesitation, she leaned in and made another infuriating X on my chest with her nail. “As long as you’re alone in the shower, have at it, Pavarotti.”

What was it about this woman that left me feeling out of control? Lack of control wasn’t something I enjoyed, yet here I was, half hard from one short round of banter. In the back of my mind, I knew my reaction to Iris was due to the way we met. My brain had trouble categorizing her as a job when I’d once been on the verge of burying myself between her thighs. That was hard to forget, especially when she tossed around her pinup girl femininity and blatant sensuality like the most delicious candy. Her smart mouth and impossibly stubborn personality should have made her easier to resist, but damn if it didn’t make this particular woman doubly enticing.

I paid attention to the beauty at the center of the room. Iris was perched on a stool with a guitar in her lap, facing her bandmates. “This is what I have so far. It’s not finished yet, and I’m always open to your creative input.” She licked her lips and chewed on the bottom one as she tapped her palm against the belly of her guitar. “Okay, here we go.” Iris played a simple tune, but her lyrics and the way she sang them were anything but. She infused her words with anger while keeping her voice mellow and even. Rodrigo kept time with his sticks. Adam’s eyes bounced between her fingers and face. Callum closed his eyes, head cocked in her direction. The room listened, and Iris spoke to us in melody. They gave me a gun, said sit still, girl, look pretty I put on my red lipstick, said no thanks, that deal’s shitty What did they expect me to do with that ammunition? I blew up the world, hey, I call that ambition I cut my teeth on girl power And bled on the glass of a broken ceiling They wonder why I’m a thorn, not a flower And why I keep leaving the boys’ club reeling Don’t look so surprised When I sharpen my nails like knives Where does this power get me? It’s not even safe to walk down the street They said you gotta have a man At your side to protect from his brethren This world squeezed a rock and turned it into a diamond Now, my razor edges are my weapon Leaving bloody boys in shock Don’t look so surprised I’m no longer a toy for your eyes Iris laid her hand flat on the str...