It was worth it. Even if she had to wear those blasted boob stickers again to pull it off.
“You like it?”
“It’s been … problematic,” Finn admitted. He pulled her in close, his face pressed to the side of hers. “I’ve been trying to listen to the speeches from the donors and heads of the various organizations, and all I’ve been able to think about is how with one swipe of my fingers, that dress would be a pool on the floor.”
“You were out of bed so early this morning. I wanted to … give you a little good luck on such an important day.”
“Oh, really?” he asked, his voice getting thick.
“Mmhmm. Wait, what are you doing?” she gasped as Finn spun her, their bodies moving across the dance floor toward the side of the room.
“Well, the numbers are rolling in,” he said, taking her hand and quickly pulling her down a narrow hallway. “I could use a little luck.”
The polls had finally closed.
Votes were being counted.
Henry was popping antacids and looking a little gray.
But Iris wasn’t worried.
And Finn no longer based all his happiness on the results of the election.
He yanked open a door, pulling Iris into the darkened storage closet.
Finn reached up, pulling the string, the harsh yellow light buzzing above them, illuminating the room full of cleaning supplies.
He moved closer to her, intent burning in his eyes.
When his hands lifted, he made good on the fantasy he’d mentioned, brushing the barely there straps off Iris’s shoulders until the material of her dress spilled from her body.
Cool air kissed her flushed skin.
She was left in nothing but her heels and panties, and Finn’s appreciative rumble had her need building quickly, overtaking her so entirely that she didn’t even think of objecting.
The party was in full swing.
There was music thumping loud enough to vibrate up through the floor. Conversation and laughter strained to be heard over that.
No one could hear.
So she didn’t even try to soften her moan when Finn grabbed her and pulled her back to his front so his hands could drift up her stomach to cup her breasts.
Her head fell back, and Finn’s lips pressed to her neck, making a shiver course through her.
His hands were as greedy as her desire, squeezing, his fingers circling, rolling, twisting.
Her soft whimpers deepened to throaty moans as one of Finn’s hands slid down her stomach to slip between her thighs, stroking, circling, teasing her desire from a flicker to a flame.
Her hips rocked as Finn’s fingers slipped inside her.
“So wet for me already.” Finn’s voice grazed down her spine.
“Finn, please.”
“Love the sound of you begging.”
His fingers turned, stroking across her top wall, driving her closer and closer to the edge.
