Iris didn’t hesitate. Her hand moved down, pressing against him through his jeans, making him gasp. “I couldn’t help but notice,” she teased, “Did the sight of me in your kitchen drive you crazy?”
“Iris, we shouldn’t…” he stammered, gripping the counter behind him as if it were the only thing holding him up.
“That’s what makes it so tempting,” she whispered, brushing her lips close to his ear as she slowly stroked him through his jeans. “Are you sure you want me to stop?”
Devin shook his head, torn between protest and desire, and Iris leaned in closer. But just then, a sneeze echoed down the hall. They pulled apart instantly, quickly adjusting their clothes just as Mia entered the kitchen, clutching a tissue.
“I told you to call me if you needed anything,” Iris said, flashing a quick,
