Free Loving Her Crazy by Kira Archer Page B

basking in the heat blasting from the vents.
    They stripped the soaking wet gloves from their hands. Nash took both pairs and shoved them in Clyde’s front zippered section. Iris’s fingers were still numb but it felt good to get the wet fabric off them.
    The cab driver asked where they wanted to go.
    “Someplace warm,” Nash said with a laugh. “Where do the locals go for fun?”
    The driver looked them over, frozen and dressed in a strange mix of eclectic thrift store items, and Iris couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his head. His lips twitched, but he didn’t comment on their appearance.
    “I think I know a place you might like. It’s not too far.”
    “Great, thanks,” Nash said, settling back against the seat.
    Iris purred with pleasure when he pulled her closer. “I hope wherever this place is, it’s indoors. Looks like you’re starting to thaw out. Your lips are finally a normal shade again,” she said, drawing one finger along his lower lip.
    He looked down at her and the look in his eyes did more to warm her up than the cab’s heater.
    “I know something that would warm me up even faster.” He leaned down and kissed her, firm but fleeting.
    “Is that so?” Iris asked, wrapping her hands in his coat so she could pull him back to her. “We’d better try it again, then.”
    Their lips met again, and this time she gave as good as she got, drawing him in, her arms wrapping around his neck as best she could without fully climbing in his lap. He deepened the kiss, and she moaned into his mouth, her head swimming. She could very happily spend the rest of the night kissing him. Her heart beat so hard breathing was torture, but she didn’t care. That distinctive, languid heat spread down to her lower body, building a delectable pressure there that caused a new wave of pleasure with every thrust of his tongue. Was it possible to orgasm just from kissing? She was about to find out.
    The cab jolted to a stop, and Iris looked up in dismayed surprise.
    “Here you are,” the driver said.
    Nash and Iris glanced out the window. They were parked in front of a fairly ordinary-looking building.
    “Hottest nightclub in town, at least judging by the number of people I bring here on the weekends. During the week, especially on a night like tonight, it might not be too packed. Then again, not much else to do on a night like this.” He chuckled.
    Nash reached for his wallet, but Iris stopped him. “My turn again.”
    He hesitated, and Iris wasn’t sure he’d agree. She hoped they weren’t going to have some fight over something so silly, but he nodded and climbed out of the cab. He didn’t look entirely thrilled, but he gained major points for letting her pay without an argument.
    The cold air whipped through her, and she hurried over to the door while Nash retrieved Clyde and the Sloane Ranger.
    The nondescript building didn’t look too promising, but at the very least it should be warm inside.
    Nash opened the door for them and they hurried in. They were met by a blast of warm air, thumping music and strobe lights, and even a touch of a fog machine. Quintessential club experience in every way. And Iris loved it. Dancing was one of her absolute favorite things to do, and she didn’t have nearly enough opportunities to get her groove-thing on anymore.
    “I don’t see any mechanical bulls, and the music definitely isn’t country, but it could be a blast,” she said, grinning at him.
    Nash snorted. “I’m sure I’ll be able to make do. Though seriously, it’s your loss. I’ve been told I’m mighty fine to watch riding a bull.”
    Iris’s stomach flipped at the image of him bucking around on a big old bronco.
    “I bet,” she managed to say.
    He gave her a slow, sexy grin and turned back to pay the cover (she couldn’t object since she’d just paid for the cab), and they began the rather laborious process of stripping off their thrift store treasures until they were back to their