That smile would be the death of her yet. “Yes, but you know why.”
He placed his mug on the nightstand next to hers. “Yes, I know why, and I have no problem with it. As far as I’m concerned, like I said, your timing was perfect. From what Deena said, Candy Sumlar isn’t a nice person.”
“She’s not. I’m sure Deena got that information from Shauna. She’s on Candy’s hit list. Not only Shauna but any up-and-coming actress who gets a role in a movie Candy might have wanted.”
“She sounds like someone with a very personal problem she might need therapy for,” he said.
She watched as Matt eased up from the chair and moved toward the bed. Then he slid his pj’s off and slipped into bed with her. “Now that you know we won’t be having any surprise visits from anyone, I say let’s make this a play day, Iris.”
She chuckled when he pulled her into his arms. “A play day?”
He smiled. “Yes, and I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Chapter Seventeen
Matt glanced across the breakfast bar at Iris. She looked good sitting there wearing one of his large T-shirts and nothing else. She had selected a pair of Deena’s leggings to wear beneath the shirt, but he had talked her into not putting them on yet. Since the T-shirt reached mid-thigh, he liked looking at her gorgeous legs.
He was enjoying her company more than he had with any other woman and he wasn’t looking forward to taking her home. He liked having her here in his house. It looked so natural for her to move around and open the curtains in his living room and kitchen when they’d finally come downstairs.
Now she sat there watching him prepare something for them to eat. She was witty, fun and a great conversationalist. And in the bedroom… OMG… He was still aroused just thinking about their sexual marathon. And then there was the shower they had shared. Oh, what a time that had been.
Honestly, until last night, he had been oblivious to the depth and strength of his desire for her. He’d known he had wanted her in a bad way, he just hadn’t known how bad until they’d shared a bed. To say he had been shocked to find out just how much he wanted her was an understatement.
Iris had admitted it was the same for her. She hadn’t known multiple orgasms were something she would ever experience. But she had. Now it was close to three in the afternoon, and he was preparing a meal they should have eaten for breakfast. Namely, chicken and waffles.
Dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, he crossed the floor in his bare feet and slid the plate in front of her.
“My goodness, Matt. Do you honestly think I can eat all of this?”
He chuckled as he placed his plate opposite hers. “I don’t know why not. My plate is just as full as yours.”
“But you’re a man. You can eat more than I. You’re built differently.”
That made him smile. “Yes, I am built differently, and you’re a woman who makes me appreciate being a man,” he said, sliding onto the barstool across from her.
“That’s such a sweet thing to say, Matt.”
“And I couldn’t have said it to a more deserving female.”
Their gazes held for a moment longer than necessary before he broke eye contact so they could start eating. Otherwise, he knew their food would be forgotten if he were to sweep her into his arms and head for the stairs that led to his bedroom.
When they both grabbed for the bottle of syrup, they paused. Instead of pulling their hands back, they stayed there. Hers felt warm beneath his, and his already hard body got harder. Knowing they needed to eat, he released his hold.
“Do you want me to pour syrup over your waffles?” she asked him.
“Yes, please,” he said, taking a sip of his orange juice.
They began eating, and the kitchen became silent and stayed that way for a while. Then she said, “Maybe my actions last night in coming here were an error in judgment on my part.”
That was the last thing he wanted her to assume. “I hope you don’t really think that, and why should you? We’re mature enough to admit we were attracted to each other from the first, so sharing a bed was bound to happen eventually.”
“Yes, but usually I don’t sleep with a man until we’ve had the talk.”
He lifted a brow. “The talk?”
“Yes.”
He bit into a piece of chicken and washed it down with orange juice. “And what is the talk?”