The heavy lounge door creaked as Michael’s hand clamped around Cathy’s wrist, his fingers a warm, bruising band against her pale skin. He didn’t wait for an answer; he simply stepped back, drawing her into the room. The air inside was thick, smelling of sweat and the salt of skin. Cathy’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, her breath hitching as her gaze locked with Iris’.
Iris didn't look startled. She looked hungry. Her blonde hair was a tangled halo against the leather sofa, her lips swollen and damp.
"Iris," Cathy breathed, the name barely a whisper. She reached out, her palm cupping Iris’ flushed cheek. Iris leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a heartbeat before she tilted her head, capturing Cathy’s lips in a deep, desperate kiss. Their tongues tangle
