Her arms went back and around his neck as his thumb worked her clit and his other hand went to her chest, squeezing, circling, and rolling, driving her closer and closer to the edge.
Iris’s breath got fast and erratic as she started to tighten around him.
“Breathe, baby,” he murmured, his lips at her neck. “There you go. You’re taking it so good for me.”
Another moan bubbled up and burst out of her, her whole body tensing and trembling as he got her right to the edge.
Then she fell over.
Crashed.
Shattered.
Fell apart.
Withhisname on her lips.
That sound, and the tensing of her walls around him over and over, had him coming with her, slamming hard and deep, groaning against her ear as he came.
They were still breathless and shaky, bodies close, hearts beating in time, when they both heard the chorus of voices on the other side of the door.
They broke apart, Iris leaning down to gather her clothes, then making a mad dash for the bedroom.
He stood alone in the bathroom a moment longer, heart still racing. Not just from the sex, but from the way she’d looked at him. Like she saw someone worth knowing, not just managing. It was heady, addictive, and terrifying.
Shaking his head, he cleaned up, then slipped into a pair of basketball shorts and a tee before making his way out.
By the time he made it back out, Iris was already there, making a cup of coffee, pretending like nothing had happened. But Finn knew that the flush on her cheeks was from him.
Just like the ache in his back again was from her.
“Those shots usually work like magic,” Henry said, frowning. “Well, we’re not that far from the filming now. Let’s go over—”
“No,” Iris said, turning away from where Arden was pulling out an outfit to show her.
“What?” Henry asked.
“No. No more going over anything. Look at him. Heseems relaxed and human for a change. Don’t tense him all up again.”
Finn couldn’t help the flirty smile he tossed in her direction, both of them knowing who could take credit for his sudden change of demeanor.
Henry eyed him for a moment before deciding Iris was right. Miracles, it seemed, were possible.
The next thing they knew, they were in the back of a cab, and Finn was pulling Iris’s legs over his lap, finding her closeness grounding, reminding him not to get stuck in his head again.
Anytime during the interview when he found himself automatically slipping back into The Suit, Iris was right there, grabbing his knee or hand, playfully cutting him off mid-spiel to lighten the mood again.
When he watched the footage back later, he had to admit that it was the mostrealhe’d ever looked and acted.
He could almost see the boy he’d been, waiting for rune-covered dragon statues, could see the young adult he’d once been, sitting in his college dorm, reading glow-in-the-dark shapeshifter comics. Hell, he could almost see his awkward, bumbling, red-faced attempts at charm.
The real Finn was there, front and center.
And the only person he could thank for that transformation was Iris.
23
Iris
