The flush on her face deepening with happiness at my request, she raises the phone. Kissing my dimple as I smile, she snaps a pic. After she takes a few more, because it’s important to have options—her words—I place her on the ground.
“You have over one hundred thousand followers in less than a week, Kian,” she utters, sounding impressed, before jealously huffing, “and, of course, most of them are women.”
I snag the phone from her, select the selfie where she’s kissing me with a hand pressed to my jaw, write a caption, and post it. Pinning it at the top of my profile, I give her the phone. “There. Problem solved.”
She gasps, reading what I wrote underneath the picture.
Property of Iris Mannan.
#HappilyTaken
“Kian,” she whispers in a trembling voice.
I kiss her parted lips, murmuring, “I want everyone to know who I belong to.”
***
“Did you enjoy today?” Iris asks as we lie in bed later that night.
“Today? I enjoyed this whole week.”
“I still have a few more options for you to choose a new hobby to do in your downtime if golf isn’t your thing.”
“Is that what this week has been about?”
“Reading can’t be your only favorite pastime,” she teases. “You’re always occupied with your company or the club, so you haven’t explored all the fun things. What about fishing?”
“There are lakes in the city.”
“Skydiving?” She nibbles on her lip, eyes going wide with fear. “No! You can’t be into extreme sports. I’ll be scared of something happening to you all the time.”
“Stop.”
“Oh my god!” She sits up. “You want to try skydiving? No, cross it off.”
“Baby.”
“Or I’ll go with you.”
Flipping her flat onto her back, I loom over her and seize her chin. “We’re not doing any extreme sports.”
“Thank God!”
“I know what my favorite hobby is.”
“Oh yeah? Tell me?”
“It’s spending time with you. I enjoy anything and everything you love to do, Rainbow.”
Placing her hand over mine, she sighs. “How do you always know to say the perfect answer?”
“I tell the truth.”
Curling her legs around my waist, she pulls me down flush against her and purrs in pleasure. I turn over so I’m not crushing her and rest her lithe curves on top of my hard planes. She snuggles against me as I glide my fingers up and down her back.
“I’m going to give my mother a chance,” I confess after a while.
Her silky hair teases my chest as she raises her head. “Really?”
