Page 9 of True North

It was my turn to snort and roll my eyes for good measure. “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve been getting it good on the regular. Not me. And I can’t even remember the last time what I got had been good.”

“What I mean is, other than tab A inserts into slot B, there aren’t really any set rules to sex. Oh! That and consent, of course.”

“Of course.”

“It’s about what you feel. Where your body takes you. And if that feels good, all you have to do is lean into it and let it take you over.”

Okay, that sounded easy enough.

I bit down on my bottom lip for a second before asking a question that had settled in my head. “What if he is, you know, kind of bossy?”

“You mean like dominant? Or bossy like that Karen we saw in line at the bank going off on the teller?”

I gave that some thought, knowing it was my past that made me hesitate. There was a difference between what I meant and what I experienced, but I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t a little concerned about being triggered. North was the first . . . man I’d been with (or was going to be with) in a really long time. All the men I’d picked after were basically the human equivalent of beige. There was nothing to fear from them. But something told me North was different.

“The first one.”

“Well . . . if that’s the case, and it feels good, like I said, then you definitely want to lean into that.” By the end of her sentence her voice had gotten a little huskier.

I let loose a giggle. “I take it Pope’s a little like that?”

“Oh, more than a little, babe. More than a little. And it’s amazing.”

That was definitely good to know. Despite my trepidation, there was a part of me that was so curious at the thought of letting a man take control like that in bed, it created this smoldering heat low and deep in my belly.

“What if I’m not any good at it?” I finally managed to find the courage to ask the one question that had been weighing me down the most.

Lennon’s tone changed then. In the blink of an eye, she went from encouraging and a little teasing to Mama Bear. It was a side of her that I absolutely adored.

“You listen to me, Iris Middle-Name-Unknown Maxwell⁠—”

“It’s Beatrice. That’s why I don’t usually tell people.”

“Yikes,” she hissed before getting back on track. “Like I was saying, you are the prize. You hear me? You are amazing and beautiful and smart and so freaking funny. All those bullshit things people say on Dateline about the victim lighting up a room or how everyone loved her are all true when it comes to you.”

A surprised laugh burst past my lips.

“North Hastings is lucky you even considered going home with him, and if what happens next isn’t good, it’ll be one hundred percent his fault.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop a small grin from pulling at my lips. “You say that like you know it’s a certainty.”

“Because I do. But I’m also sure none of this is something you need to worry about, because it’s going to be amazing. Because you don’t deserve anything less.” God, I loved her. “Now get out of your head, get off the phone with me, and go get you some!”

We ended the call and I took a few deep, cleansing breaths as I summoned up the courage to open the door and step out of the bathroom.

I had no way of knowing (until a handful of seconds later) that all my worrying and anxiety was for nothing.

FIVE

IRIS

I barely got the bathroom door open all the way before North was on me. And I do mean on me.

He moved so quickly I let out a startled yelp as he bent down and hooked behind my knees, hauling my up like I weighed next to nothing, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist. More than once I wondered what it would be like to make out with a guy so much taller than me. I imagined it came with its fair share of neck aches on North’s part, but this made way more sense.

From this position I was in perfect proximity to slam my lips down on his. Which was exactly what I did. Lennon had been right; I had nothing to worry about. There was no leaning into the flow of things because it swept me off my feet in an instant, and I was totally fine with that.

North’s tongue forced its way past my lips, not that I gave much resistance, and brushed against mine, leaving behind the rich smokey caramel flavor of the whiskey he’d been drinking at the bar earlier.