"You smell like pussy." Dean smiles wide. It's his usual I'm going to turn everyone's life upside down smile.

The guy's been my closest friend for ten years now, and I'm still not sure when he's serious and when he's fucking with me.

"And?" I move to the hand sink in the back and turn it on.

Dean follows. "And you've been finished for two minutes without offering details."

"Guess I'm not as depraved as you." I run the water warm and pump soap into my hands.

"You'll get there."

I rinse. Towel dry. Turn off the faucet. "We all need goals." Not that I have any at the moment. I have everything I want. I'm a co-owner. The shop is kicking ass. I spend my days putting ink to people's skin and my nights enjoying the women of the greater Los Angeles area.

Life is good.

Except for shit with Bree.

But that's staying in the corner of my mind.

I'm done picking up the pieces.

I'm done hoping she'll give a fuck about getting better.

I'm done, period.

"So…" He leans against the wall and shoots me a look. Spill it.

"It was amazing." There's something about Iris. Not just the way her body responds to mine. Or her lush thighs against my cheeks. Or her soft tits.

Fuck, I'm getting distracted.

Dean taps his toe against the floor. "That's it? It was amazing?"

"Yeah."

"You like her or something?"

"I'm twenty-four."

"And?"

"Don't you think we're getting old for this shit?"

"Are you hearing this, Leigh?" He turns to the front desk. Shoots Leighton an isn't this the worst thing ever look.

"I don't know. Who's Leigh?" She folds her arms.

"It's cute," Dean insists.

"What if I call you D?" she asks.

"Don't. He'll like it," I say.

He's already smiling. "That's how you think of me, as D?"

"As a dick, yeah." She shakes her head, sending her short hair in every direction. It's a purple-grey color now. It's nearly the same cut as Iris's, but it looks different on her.

Don't get me wrong. Leighton is a babe and she dresses to kill. But I don't see her as a potential fuck. I know her too well.

"You're both perverts." She brushes her hair behind her ear.

"And that's a bad thing?" Dean feigns offense.

"Don't you have an appointment?" she asks.

"He's late." Dean turns to me. "What was she like?"

"Responsive."

"That's it?" Dean shakes his head. "You're going soft on me."

Leighton laughs. "Had that problem before?"

"Have you?" He shoots her an accusatory look.

"Yeah. All women have. And most men too. Your fucking dicks are prima donnas." She folds her arms. "With how much you drink…"

He flips her off.

She laughs. "Hmm. Seems personal, D. Something you want to confess?"

"I know my limits," he says.

"That means you've tested them," she teases.

"I know my dick better than you do, honey. Now, if you want to get to know it—"

"I know enough. You never stop talking about it. If I have to hear about how mind-blowing you think your Prince Albert is one more fucking time—"

"Sounds like you want to try it out."

She ignores him. Turns to me. "You were wearing that yesterday."

"We already established that he smells like pussy." Dean shakes his head. "I can't believe this shit. No details."

Leighton rolls your eyes. "You're like a child."

"You love it," he says.

She shakes her head. Turns to me. "A little detail? Please, Walker. You know I'm on a self-imposed dry spell."

Yeah. Something about how she's tired of making the wrong choices with men.

She looks at me with puppy dog eyes.

Her eye makeup is the same as Iris's was. That long line. Only hers is purple.

"I was at a party. She didn't want to be there. We went back to her place," I say.

Leighton nods go on.

"She sat on the bed. I rolled her jeans to her ankles. She was wearing this lace thong that curved over her soft hips. She made this hot as fuck gasping noise when I tugged her panties to her ankles."

"TOO MUCH DETAIL!" Leighton bites her lip. Desire spreads over her expression.

She asked.

I'm not about to skimp.

"She was so fucking eager. She started arching her back and letting out these needy sighs as I dragged my lips up her thigh. When I pinned her legs to the bed—fuck. She tasted good. And she was so fucking responsive. Like it had been ages since anyone licked her properly."

"Ugh." She bites her lip. "You're such a guy."

"Please, Leigh. Fifty bucks says your panties are drenched," Dean says.

"Yeah. But… Uh…" Her blush spreads to her chest. "How do you know she wasn't coming on some other guy's face the night before?"

"I know." All right, maybe she was with someone recently. But not someone who fucked her properly. Not with the way she groaned my name.

"You jelly 'cause you want my boy's tongue on your cunt?" Dean asks.

"Ew. You guys are like brothers. That's just… no." She shakes her head.

"You know Dean and I will take you out. Play wingman," I say.

She scoffs. "Yeah, that's gonna work. Two built, tattooed bodyguards scaring off every guy in a hundred-foot radius."

"You don't mean that." Dean feigns humility.

She cocks her hip. "You always start with your mouth?"

"Not usually." Fuck, I am stuck in a routine. The last dozen women, it's been the same thing.

How the fuck is it possible I'm bored of one-night stands?

She sighs. "Why do I do this to myself?"

"I'm sure Brendon has something that can take the edge off," Dean says.

"I'm not taking Brendon's used sex toys. Especially knowing he uses them on Kay." She sticks her tongue out. Shakes her head with disgust. "I have my own… you know what. Never mind. It's none of your business."

He turns to me. "Come on, Casanova. Keep going. It was just getting good."

"I'm not a porn site. If I was, I'd charge a fortune," I say.

"I don't want some porn site. That's fake shit. I need the real dirt," he says. "What was she like?"

"Different," I say.

"You like her."

"Of course I like her. I wouldn't fuck her if I didn't."

"No. You like her."

"I don't like anyone."

"I thought so. But I guess I'm the only soulless one here." He shakes his head. "Damn, Walker. First Brendon. Now you. Another one bites the dust."

"You can't trick me into offering more details."

He smiles wide. "You sure?"

No. He can. I usually love replaying my conquests. But it feels different with Iris. Like I shouldn't.

Fuck.

Maybe he's right.

Maybe I do like her.

But it's not like that means I'm going to fall for her.

Dean's wrong. Well, not about him being more soulless. But about me being at all open to anything beyond a fuck.

I like Iris.

I want to fuck her again.

But that's it.

It isn't going to mean more than that.

The bell rings.

That must be my eleven o'clock.

I shoot Dean a cut it out look and I turn to the door.

That's her. @FruedianSlip.

Iris.