“No one is here to see you.” The lack of bags makes my job of finding her clutch that much easier. I pass it to her so she can hold onto it while I walk.
Her head lifts as she assesses the empty ballroom. “Where did they all go?”
“Home.”
“Then why are we still even here?”
“I lost track of time.”
She gasps as she checks her phone. “It’s midnight!”
“You’ll make it home before you turn into a pumpkin, princess.”
“That’s not even how the story goes.” Her laugh is muffled by the material of my tux as I carry her out the door.
“Close enough.”
“You’re a disgrace to your last name.”
I smack her ass for that comment.
“Did you just spank me?!”
My hand burns to do it again if only to hear that little gasp she makes when my palm collides with her flesh. She returns the favor and smacks my ass hard. I almost drop her from the shock of it all, but I recover with a laugh.
“Ugh! You weren’t supposed to like that!”
I collect myself before walking through the lobby with Iris hauled over my shoulder. The bellhop gives us a look as he opens the door, and I tip my chin in his direction.
A random passerby takes a photo as they catcall, and Iris flips them off.
“I hate you so much right now.” She huffs.
Harrison’s eyes widen as he opens the door of the car for me. “Sir. Is Mrs. Kane all right?”
Iris waves. “All good. Although I can’t say the same about my husband once we get home.”
She rarely calls me her husband, but when she does, it sends a rush of warmth through my body.
Harrison laughs as Iris pinches my ass.
“Do you mind? I’m starting to feel dizzy.”
I unceremoniously dump her in the back seat before circling the car and dropping into mine. Harrison takes off down the road. Iris stares out the window, watching the Chicago skyline pass us by as we drive out to the suburbs.
I spend the entire car ride playing out different scenarios of exactly what might happen when we get home. By the time Harrison parks the car, I am buzzing with anticipation.
My thoughts are dashed as I turn to look over at Iris. Her body leans against the door, and her eyes remain shut as she breathes deeply in and out.
She fell asleep.
After all that talk on her end about getting payback, she couldn’t even stay up to seek retribution.
“Should I wake her, sir?” Harrison peeks through my side of the car.
“I got her.” I step out and walk around the trunk. I’m careful to open her door slowly so I can catch her before she falls out.
She doesn’t stir as I tug her into my arms, cradling her the same way I did on our wedding night. Somehow, she remains fast asleep as I walk us through the house and up the stairs. I struggle to open her door without dropping her, but I am able to configure myself in a way so I can turn the knob.
Her door hits the wall with a soft thud. I make my way toward her bed and place her on the mattress. She tucks her hand under her cheek and curls into herself, uncaring about her dress or makeup.
I hate the idea of waking her up, but I doubt she wants to go to bed dressed like that. It can’t be comfortable.
“Iris.” I give her shoulder a subtle shake.
Her hand flies straight to my face. I release a whoosh of air as I duck, somehow missing her palm before it connected with my cheek.
“Iris. Wake up.”
She groans. “Shh, Declan. Stop talking and do that thing with your tongue again.”
My pulse thunders in my veins, matching the quickening of my heart rate.
Is she…dreaming of me? I blink, trying to wrap my head around Iris having a dirty dream about me.
She lets out a soft whimper that I feel straight to my cock. I consider the consequences of waking her up and showing her what the real deal feels like, but I think better of it.
Start small and be strategic.
Making a move on her tonight would be anything but smart. No matter how much I want to, I need to go about this in a way that won’t spook her.
Her previous failed relationships are proof of what happens when people come off too strong, too fast.
I didn’t spend this long chasing after her for me to squander it because I couldn’t control my dick. My patience will be rewarded soon. It is only a matter of time before she comes crawling to me, and I plan on making her work for it.
Starting tomorrow.
30
IRIS
T he morning after the gala, I wake up in a designer gown, smudged makeup, and a serious case of how did I get here syndrome. I wiggle my sore feet, noting a few blisters that weren’t there yesterday.