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jade4813 · 5 years

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A Lie, Told Often Enough, Chapter 9

Author Notes: Inspired by @fallinginloveinaflash‘s AU prompt. All credit for the idea goes entirely to her.

Title: A Lie, Told Often Enough

Rating: NC-17

Synopsis: Iris just landed her dream job at a PR firm and her first assignment is reforming the bad boy image of celebrity artist Barry Allen. He’s overly cocky and well-known for being a playboy, but Iris has never met a challenge she couldn’t handle.

Chapters: 9/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Iris was deliciously sore when she woke up the next morning, and she smiled as she stretched, trying to work out the kinks in her muscles. She could still taste Barry on her lips, smell him on her skin, and she let her eyes drift closed as she savored the memory. She imagined it was his hand drifting across her stomach, down her hip, sliding between her thighs.

She kept telling herself that she would get him out of her system soon. Just one more good, hard fuck, and maybe she’d get over this strange addiction she seemed to have formed for him. One more time. One more night.

What would he do if she called him now and told him she needed him? If she whispered that she was wet and ready and had awoken with the need to have him inside her? Would he come to her, help her drive away the need that filled her?

Or would he think she was being clingy, wanting more from him than he wanted to give? Like so many other sad, sorry women he’d left in his wake as he was carried away by the brightly lit chaos that was show business. Would he feel sorry for her? Apologize for her mistake in holding on to a promise he’d never intended to make?

The thought was like a bucket of cold water, driving away the memory of his touch. Her eyes opened in more ways than one, she climbed out of bed and turned her attention to preparing for the day ahead.

Calling him to her would be breaking the rules, she reminded herself as she stepped into the shower. She couldn’t afford to forget that.

A couple hours later, she was sitting at her desk, trying to focus on work, when her phone chirped with an incoming message. “I saw Allen’s interview this morning. Good job. Keep this up, and we may get you back to work sooner than we thought.”

Frowning at Mason’s message, Iris did a quick search for the interview in question. Linda had called her afterwards to update her on the situation, but it hadn’t sounded like that big of a deal. If it got Mason’s attention, however, Iris thought she had better check it out.

As she clicked on the link and waited for it to load, she heard a knock on the door and jogged to answer it. Instead of Barry standing on the other side, however, she found Cisco. He smiled as he handed her a small package, explaining, “Barry said you were coming by the studio today and asked me to give this to you. I was in the area, so I thought I’d drop it off and save you a trip.”

“Oh,” she replied, a slight frown marring her brow. “He asked me to stop by to go over our next steps.”

Cisco’s laugh was wry and apologetic. “Yeah, I’m not surprised. The thing is, he’s in meetings all day, working on his upcoming tour. He always thinks he’ll get done a lot faster than he does, and it always takes all day. And that puts him in a bad mood, so he goes home to crash for a while.”

Iris laughed. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Sounds like something he’d do. Thanks for the warning.”

“No problem,” Cisco replied with a cheery smile as he turned away. “If you come by tomorrow, he’ll be back to normal.”

“Isn’t that still grouchy?” she called after him.

He laughed and retorted over his shoulder, “Well, sure, but at least it’s the endearing kind of grouchy! You get used to it!”

With a chuckle and a shake of her head, Iris closed the door behind him and tore into the package, wondering what Barry had left for her. Her heart fell into her stomach when the key slid out of the envelope and into her palm.

Moving slowly, as if it was a vicious animal that might bite, Iris walked to her kitchen table and placed the key in the center of its empty surface. Leaning forward, she rested her chin on the back of her hand and stared at it, wondering what it might mean. It looked like a house key. For his place? Why was he giving her a key to his place? Because he had misread her intentions and felt obligated? Or because he wanted to provide his fuck buddy easy access?

She honestly didn’t know which would be worse.

Before she could decide on a course of action, her phone chirped again. When she saw Barry’s name on the screen, she bit her lip and pulled open the message. “Meeting’s running behind. Not sure when I’ll get out. Come by about 10 tonight instead? If I’m not home by then, kill me.”

Tilting her head to the side, Iris pondered his message, wondering if it had some sort of hidden meaning. Uncertain how to respond, she chose her words carefully as she typed out her message. “That’s okay. Cisco said you’re always later at these than you think you’re going to be, so I was prepared.”

Ellipses appeared at the bottom of the screen, and then he replied, “Traitor. He’s not supposed to tell on me like that!” Then, a moment later, “One of these days, they’ll believe me when I say I don’t care what kind of towels they stock backstage, and these meetings will get down to a manageable level.”

That didn’t seem to have any kind of hidden meaning, so she smiled and sent back, “Don’t you know? It is VERY IMPORTANT that you choose the right towels. Your ENTIRE CAREER depends on it!”

“Honey, I honestly couldn’t care less about the towels. Unless you promise I’m going to find you backstage in a towel and nothing else. Then I’d reconsider.”

Her breath caught in her throat, uncertain whether she should be turned on or alarmed by his message. After a minute, she rolled her eyes at herself and muttered, “Don’t be a coward, West. Ask him.” Her fingers trembling a little, she typed out her message. “Oh, Cisco dropped off a key. ??” So she was too scared to actually type out the question. “Sue me,” she muttered.

She could see those damn ellipses again and held her breath until the next text came through. “Oh, yeah. I was going to give you a head’s up about that, but it slipped my mind. Everyone on my team has a key to my place. My schedule can be unpredictable, and I don’t want you to have to wait in the car if I don’t get home on time. Or if I’ve worked too late the night before and oversleep. If we have an appointment and I don’t answer the door when you knock, you can let yourself in and send me a text that you’re waiting if I’m not there.”

Her breath left her in a whoosh, and she had to laugh at her foolishness. Of course. Remembering how Cisco had let himself in to Barry’s place during their dance and how she’d found Harry there the other day, it made perfect sense. She felt so silly about how completely she’d mentally missed the mark that she felt comfortable teasing him in response. “So I should only use the key during regular business hours?”

She smiled as she waited for his response and then chuckled when she saw his return text. “Unless you want to prove your point about the towel…”

Shaking her head, she slipped the phone in her pocket and turned back to her work. As she sat at her computer, her gaze drifted to her folder labeled Relationships. It contained all the information she’d compiled about Barry’s prior romances, which she used as research when planning her current strategy. Pulling it out of the stack of papers on her desk, she put it on top of the pile. It wouldn’t hurt to have it nearby for a while, a silent reminder of why she shouldn’t let herself read more into whatever this thing was between the two of them.

Iris knocked on Barry’s door that evening, shifting her weight back and forth with indecision when he didn’t answer. When she tried again and received a similar lack of response, she pulled the key out of her pocket with shaking fingers. Even though she knew it was a byproduct of his rather unpredictable lifestyle, it still felt strange to let herself into his place. Like she belonged there.

So it was with an excess of caution that she stuck her head into the front door and called out, “Hello? Barry? You here?” Receiving no response yet again, she sighed and let herself inside, closing the door behind her.

She was headed to the couch to wait for his return when curiosity overcame her. It was possibly her best chance to get more insight into the mind of Barry Allen, without him catching on to her curiosity. So instead of sitting down, she meandered through the living room, pausing to look at the photographs on the walls. There were a couple photos of Barry playing on stage; from his appearance, she thought they were likely taken early in his career. Most of the photos, however, were with his family. Iris paused and stared at the faces of the people she assumed to be his parents. With one fingertip, she traced the lines left by a lifetime of laughter in their faces and decided they looked kind. Perhaps she would enjoy meeting them, after all.

Then she moved on, letting her hand trail absently along the top of his television. After a moment’s pause, she headed towards the nearby hallway. She didn’t want to cross the line with her snooping, but surely he would understand if she used the restroom in his absence?

The problem was, she wasn’t sure which room led to the bathroom. Opening the first door she came across, she a coat closet. Behind the next door, she found an empty guest room. Iris closed the door firmly without giving in to temptation to investigate. At the end of the hall, she found two closed doors. She chose one at random and had opened it just a crack when she realized it led to the master bedroom.

Feeling guilty enough already, Iris started to close the door when she heard a sound inside. Curious, she paused and glanced into the darkened room. It was then that she realized Barry was stretched out on top of the covers, snoring gently.

Without stopping to second-guess her actions, Iris crept into the room and approached the bed. Though his body lay in shadow, the light from the hallway fell across his bed, illuminating his face.

There was something so gentle and pure about his face while he was sleeping. This wasn’t the face of a serial heartbreaker or one of the sexiest men alive. He looked peaceful and untroubled, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he turned his face away from the light.

Unable to resist temptation, Iris reached out and trailed one gentle fingertip along the curve of his cheek. He didn’t move, so she bent and brushed a soft kiss against his forehead. She didn’t want to disturb him when he was sleeping so soundly, but she knew she would hold on to this memory, long after their peculiar arrangement had come to an end.

As she straightened to go, however, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist, holding her tight. She watched his eyes flutter open as his mouth curved into a lazy grin. “Hey, you,” he murmured, his voice roughened from sleep. “I wanted to stay up and wait for you.”

“I can tell,” she responded lightly, her voice amused. “It’s okay. We can talk tomorrow.”

“Mmmm…no, it’s okay. I can get up,” he argued, even as he dragged her into bed.

Iris laughed as he pulled her down next to him and tucked his cheek against the curve of her neck. “Well, you’re off to a great start!”

Barry’s breath was warm against her neck, making her shiver when he whispered something that sounded like, “My Iris.”

Her heart skipping a beat, Iris sucked in a sharp breath. “What?”

“Mmm?” Three seconds passed, and she wondered if he’d drifted off again when he mumbled, “I said I promise.”

She relaxed in his arms again. “I should go,” she suggested, though not entirely without regret.

He sighed, pressing a kiss on the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “God, you smell good,” he groaned. Then, in a whisper, he demanded, “You know, you could stay here with me tonight.”

Turning in his arms, she brushed back the lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. She knew he was too sleepy to think clearly, so she tried not to take his words to heart as she dropped her gaze to his chest and responded in a lightly teasing tone, “And break one of the unspoken rules that define our relationship? I don’t dare.”

When she pulled her gaze back to his, she found him watching her silently. As though unable to keep still, he ran his hand along her side to her hip. He pulled her closer and then bowed his head to kiss the curve of her neck again. His lips trailed down her chest to the swell of her breasts over her shirt. Massaging her ass with one hand, he sucked slightly on the soft skin of her breast, just hard enough to leave a mark.

At her soft moan, Barry raised up and moved over her, pinning her down with the weight of his body. Meeting her eyes, he murmured, “Would that be so bad? To hell with the rules. Stay with me.”

Glancing away, Iris bit back a sigh. He spoke like someone with nothing to lose. But, then, she knew she was the only one of them who was risking everything. Gathering the threads of her composure, she forced a laugh and attempted a teasing tone when she asked, “And how many girls have you said that to?”

That got his attention, and he froze, his eyes wide as he looked down on her. She watched as one corner of his mouth curved up in an arrogant smirk. “Not that many. You’re the first woman I’ve ever met who will fuck me but won’t sleep with me,” he pointed out in a dry tone.

Iris struggled to keep her tone light as she chose her words carefully. “Well, I already said I’m not one of your groupies. At least this way, when I wake up in the morning alone, it’s all part of the plan. I don’t have to worry about you –” She broke off, pressing her lips together to stop the flow of words from leaving her mouth when she realized she’d been about to say, breaking my heart. Realizing she had to finish the sentence somehow, she concluded lamely, “um, worrying that I’m going to misinterpret things. Fucking each other is less messy than sleeping together, don’t you think?”

Barry’s eyes slid to the window, and she felt the movement of his body as he inhaled deeply. When he met her eyes again, his eyes were guarded, hiding his thoughts from her view. “Baby, who said anything about sleeping?” he drawled.

It was, in a sense, confirmation of what she had assumed. His suggestion that she stay had been thoughtless. The implication behind his words had been unintentionally implied by a man who promised nothing just as he risked nothing. It did not matter, she promised herself. He could not hurt her. He could not hurt her.

But part of her wondered if she should be concerned at how easily the thought he might break her heart. Was it already more at risk than she wanted to believe? Perhaps it was already too late, and she should leave now, before her heart really was at risk. But then Barry shifted, pressing against her, and all thought of leaving fled from her mind. Putting her misgivings aside, she lifted her hand to scrape her nails gently down his chest.

One more time. One more night.

Barry relaxed into her touch, but she could swear she saw a flash of sadness in his eyes. In a blink, it was gone, making her wonder if she’d imagined it. Bowing his head, he grabbed the front panel of her blouse in his teeth and tugged, slowly popping open the buttons. This was all it would ever be, she knew, but she swore to herself that this was all she wanted anyway.

To avoid acknowledging the sudden sorrow that weighed her down at the thought, Iris poured herself into him, into this moment together. When he reached for her, she arched to meet him. Their lips met, and she inhaled his breath, imagining she could hold it deep inside her. Like a talisman to ward off future pain.

Barry deftly helped her out of her clothes before quickly removing his own. And then he was leaning over her again. He explored her body with his hands, his lips, his tongue. He brought her to one shuddering climax after another, until it was all she could do to mindlessly chant his name.

But still he didn’t come inside her.

Frustrated and aching, wanting to feel him thrust into her, Iris pushed him off her and stumbled to her feet. “Water,” she mumbled. When she caught sight of the clock on the nightstand, she saw it was after midnight. “I need water.”

Shameless in her nudity, she left the bedroom and turned towards the bathroom – the only room she had not discovered during her earlier investigation. Throwing open the door, Iris flicked on the light before bending over the sink, drinking in mouthfuls of cold water as she plotted her revenge.

When she straightened, however, Barry was standing behind her. She smiled at his reflection in the mirror, his hair tousled from her fingers running through it a hundred times over the past hour. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asked her as their eyes met in the reflection.

Iris felt herself blush. It was an inexplicable reaction, considering that he had spent the last two hours exploring every inch of her body. “You might have mentioned it.” She reached for the light switch, but he grabbed her wrist.

“No,” he demanded, bringing her hand to her stomach. “I want to watch. I want you to watch.” With his hand covering hers, he nudged her head to the side so he could kiss her earlobe. After scraping it gently between his teeth, he whispered, “Show me how you touch yourself when I’m not there.”

Iris froze. Even with all the things they had done to each other, there still seemed to be something particularly wicked about his suggestion. He wanted to watch her as she touched herself? But his body was so warm and solid behind hers, and she closed her eyes, remembering the fantasy she’d had of him just that morning. Sucking in a deep breath, she started to move her hands slowly, caressing the soft skin of her stomach.

His hands moved with hers, covering hers completely. Everywhere she went to touch, he touched first. There was something particularly erotic about the realization, and she lifted her hand to her breasts, to stroke and tease her nipples.

“Open your eyes,” he breathed, and when she did, she saw his gaze was locked on her face in the reflection. “That’s it, baby.”

It had been her fantasy, and now Iris gave in to the reality of it. She watched his quick intake of breath as he helped her tease herself, felt him stiffen behind her when she moaned. Then she grabbed his other hand and brought it to her waist, sliding her own fingers beneath his. Slowly, tantalizing him and heightening her own anticipation, she slid her hand to the apex of her thighs.

Barry breathed a curse, pulling her back against him hard enough to momentarily hold her hands in place. Then she felt the slight tremor in his fingers as he relaxed the pressure. “Go on,” he groaned, pressing his erection into the small of her back. “Show me what you do next.”

Her eyes locked on his face, she teased the outer folds of her lips, drawing out the torture for them both as she murmured, “I imagine it’s you when I do this, you know. Your hands. Your lips. Your tongue.” At her words, he exhaled suddenly, and she took advantage of his surprise as she slid one finger inside her folds to stroke her clit. With a low moan, she bucked against his hand, pressing against him as his fingers, longer than hers, slid inside her.

“I’ll never be able to touch myself without thinking of this. Of you,” she panted as their hands moved together, pressing inside her, making her ache with need. “Come inside me, Barry. I need you.” Turning her head, she slid the hand on her breast out from under his and grabbed his hair, dragging his lips to hers, repeating her demand against his mouth. “I need you.”

Her words seemed to break something inside him, because he growled, “Damn it, Iris.” Releasing her breast, he pressed against her shoulder blades until she leaned forward to brace her weight against the mirror. “Don’t look away,” he ordered as he grabbed her hips and thrust inside her. “This is what you want, isn’t it? You want me to fuck you?”

She didn’t even have a chance to reply. He had teased her for so long, she came almost immediately when he thrust inside her, but Barry didn’t stop. He was merciless as he pounded into her, bringing her to orgasm again and again, bracing her hips in his hands when her knees buckled.

Finally, with a shout, he climaxed and collapsed against her back, almost taking the two of them to the floor when Iris’s legs proved too shaky to support them both. “Oh, Iris,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to her temple as he helped her find her footing. Then he opened his mouth as if to say something more, paused, and shook his head. Releasing her, he stepped back and turned away, leaving the room without a word.

Iris took a moment to catch her breath and followed him back into the bedroom, only to find him splayed out on the bed again, his arm thrown over his eyes. “Um…I should…I should go,” she said softly, breaking the silence between them as she bent to scoop up her clothing. Barry didn’t respond. Holding her clothes to her chest in a strangely self-conscious gesture, she tried again. “We should, uh, we should probably touch base tomorrow about our schedules. I have some ideas about what we should do next.”

At that, Barry lifted one shoulder off the mattress in a halfhearted shrug. “Sure,” he mumbled. “I agreed to do everything you say, remember? Just give me a call whenever. I’m free all afternoon.”

She nodded. This was what she wanted, sex with no pretense of emotion. So she couldn’t explain why she felt so hollow inside as she darted back to the restroom to get dressed before sneaking out his front door without so much as a goodbye.

On her way out to her car, she saw a flash of light, and her stomach sank. She knew she should be grateful for the paparazzi who had undoubtedly just taken her picture. This kind of press would only serve her purposes. Her relationship with Barry wasn’t real; it was never intended to be private. But as she dove into her car and pulled away, she wished it could have remained private, anyway.

She didn’t know how Barry lived like this. She wasn’t sure she could do it.

“Looks like things are getting interesting between you and Barry.” Iris wasn’t surprised to see the text from Linda the next day. “How late was it when you made your walk of shame, anyway?”

“Very funny, Lin. I was too wiped to drive, so I crashed in his guest room for a while. It was nothing.”

Any hope that her friend would accept her lie evaporated when she read the response. “Oh, yeah. I remember thinking you were definitely sporting some ‘slept in the guest room’ hair in your picture.”

Iris groaned. “Well, we wanted to make it look good for the cameras,” she lied again.

She didn’t delude herself into thinking Linda had bought her story, but she at least seemed willing to pretend for her sake, as she didn’t press the point. Unfortunately, her next text was hardly comforting, either.

“So, have you figured out how you’re going to end it when this is all over? The way things are going, it’ll be mission accomplished before long.”

Ignoring the sinking sensation in her stomach, she forced herself to type her response. “I haven’t finalized a plan yet, but I’m working on it. Any ideas?”

Several minutes passed before she received Linda’s response. “You’ll need to be the one to end it, you know. At least that’s what people will have to believe.”

The thought had occurred to her, though the prospect gave her no joy. She told herself fit was only because she dreaded what how her image would be eviscerated in the press when it happened.

But Linda wasn’t done. “And you’ll want to be thoughtful about who he’s seen dating next. It should be someone who helps reinforce his reformed image. If he’s willing to do it.” Iris stared at the text, reading it again and again. Rationally, she knew that there was wisdom in Linda’s advice. But the thought of watching Barry publicly engaged in a relationship with someone else after this was all over, even knowing that it would be no more real than her own relationship was…she couldn’t bear the thought.

Would he kiss that unnamed woman the way he kissed Iris? The thought made her want to cry.

“That’s not going to be a problem, is it? I mean, it’s not like you’ve fallen for him or anything,” Linda asked.

Grateful her friend wasn’t there to see the look on her face, she typed out her response. “No, of course not. It’s not a problem at all.”

“I’m not saying you owe me because that would be rude. I’m just saying that in fairy tales, what I am about to give you would warrant the promise of a princess’s firstborn child. And I think you should bear that in mind when Christmas rolls around this year.” Joanie said with a smug smile as she slid an envelope across the table at Iris.

“That good, huh?” she asked skeptically as she nudged her coffee cup out of the way so she could scoop it up, “You were able to get those movie premiere tickets for me?”

“Better.”

Iris had started to make a skeptical sound, but it broke off abruptly as she flipped open the lip of the envelope and saw what was inside. “Holy shit, Jo. How’d you manage this?” Pulling out the embossed invitation, she skimmed the elegant cursive text once and then again, unable to entirely believe her eyes. “This is…it’s an invitation to Walter Prescott’s birthday celebration tomorrow night. Everybody who’s anybody in Hollywood is going to be there. I’m pretty sure people have offered to pay millions for a ticket. And you’re giving me two?”

Narrowing her eyes in feigned suspicion, Iris asked, “Who did you have to kill for these? I’m not saying it wasn’t worth it. I just want to make sure I have my story straight when the police come knocking on my door.”

Joanie laughed. “No hit squads necessary…this time. Alex’s girlfriend somehow got her hands on a couple of tickets. I think her dad’s some sort of diplomat or something. They were planning to go, but then Alex got the flu. They offered the tickets to Kara, but you know she’d rather jump off a building than go to this kind of thing. So she gave them to me.”

“Jesus,” Iris breathed, putting the tickets safely in her purse. If Barry wanted to break into Hollywood, he was going to need connections. There was no better way to rub elbows with the right people than Walter Prescott’s annual birthday bacchanalia. “I – You’re right. I totally owe you my firstborn child.”

Her former sorority sister laughed. “I actually am not in the market for kids right now, so I’ll pass. But if you wanted to get me a berry mocha muffin, I wouldn’t turn it down.”

Iris stifled a yawn behind her fist as she reached for her glass of water. She would have expected that an event people were willing to pay millions to get into would be less…dull. Though she supposed the festivities hadn’t really gotten underway yet. She and Barry were seated at the birthday dinner at an upscale hotel in the heart of the city. After a few hours of dinner and dancing, the party would move to Prescott’s private estate, where the biggest and most important names in Hollywood would drink and party the night away.

She would have thought Barry would be enjoying the festivities, but he had been withdrawn all evening. He had barely said a word to her from the moment she showed up on his doorstep in a dress the color of champagne that had a slit nearly to her hip and hugged her every curve. Though he’d murmured a compliment and kissed her on the cheek after escorting her to the limo – for the benefit of the cameras, of course – he had been distant ever since.

Even now. She glanced at Barry out of her eye and saw that he was engrossed in conversation with the person on his other side. Quickly wiping the scowl off her face, she sighed. She couldn’t exactly fault his behavior. He wasn’t being rude – or even cold, per se. He made sure to engage with her enough to satisfy the cameras and ensure no inconvenient rumors would hit the headlines in the morning. But he was still…distant.

When he smiled at her, it didn’t reach his eyes. Every time he leaned down to murmur in her ear, she was painfully reminded that this was nothing more than an act. Of course, she’d always known that was true. But tonight, it felt true. And she didn’t know what she could do about it – or even if she should.

Bored, Iris found herself praying for the first time that her evening with Barry would end. She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye just when he turned to look down at her. When their eyes met, he threw her that same polished smile she’d seen all evening, pulled her into a one-armed embrace for the sake of the cameras, kissed her temple, and then turned his attention back to his previous conversation.

Iris clenched her teeth in reaction to the irritation she couldn’t let herself convey. Apparently, she was going to have to do something drastic to get his attention. She took a quick glance around to make sure the tablecloth was long enough to cover her movements and then reached for the line of her underwear under her dress. Shifting back and forth slowly, using conversation with the other couples at the table to cover her movements so as to not draw attention to what she was doing, she nudged her underwear down her hips.

Drawing her panties out from under her ass was the tricky part, and she feared for a second that Barry had caught on to what she was doing when he shot another glance her way. But, no, he paused only long enough to throw her another hollow smile, and then his attention wandered once more. Iris bit back a curse as she pretended to drop her napkin and used the motion of bending down to pick it up as cover to pull her panties down to her thighs.

After that, the task became infinitely easier. Rubbing her legs back and forth slowly, she slid her silky thong down her legs to her knees, where they hovered for a moment before falling easily to the ground. Iris carefully scooped up the tiny scrap of fabric with one foot, fighting back a devilish smile as she casually reached under the table to retrieve her underwear.

Then, when she was sure Barry was well and truly distracted, she slipped the thong, still warm from her body, into his hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as a slight frown of confusion flickered across his face. Then he jumped, slamming his knee against the underside of the table as realization sunk in. He spun to face her even as he muttered a sheepish apology for his clumsiness, but Iris met his wide-eye astonishment with feigned innocence.

Let him ignore her now.

Reaching for her hand under the table, Barry gave it a squeeze as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against her lips, playing to the audience. Nuzzling her ear, he whispered, “You know I’m going to get you back for that, right?”

Iris smiled. “I know you’ll try,” she dared him in return. He snorted and straightened, seemingly turning his attention back to his previous conversation. However, underneath the table, his fingers pushed the fold of her dress aside and tickled the skin just above her knee.

Iris bit back a smile as she accepted the glass of champagne placed before her by a passing waiter. Barry, however, shook his head at the offer. “Can’t stand the stuff,” he offered in explanation. All the while, his fingers traced a slow path up her leg to her hip, the folds of her skirt falling open under his touch.

He stroked her hip with the outside his fingers as he laughed at something someone else at the table said and leaned forward in a pretense of getting the waiter’s attention to order another drink. Iris caught her breath when he used the motion to cover his movements as he slid his hand over her thigh to her inner leg, stroking the soft skin there.

When Iris glanced over at him, she saw that he was watching her out of the corner of his eye. Reading his silent challenge, Iris slowly spread her thighs as she took a sip of her champagne.

Barry grinned, and Iris had to catch her breath when he slipped his fingers inside her. She was gratified to see that he was not entirely unaffected by what he was doing to her. When she put her hand on his thigh, he was so tense it was like touching corded steel. She shifted slightly in her seat, pressing against his hand, and watched a muscle jump in his jaw.

When she let her hand drift towards his inner thigh, however, he pulled his hand away to grab her wrist instead, holding her in place. Leaning in, he murmured in a gravelly undertone, “Not a good idea, Princess.”

Iris grinned and turned her attention to the woman sitting on her other side, picking up an earlier thread of conversation. But her momentary sense of victory was short-lived; she was just asking about her companion’s children when she felt Barry’s fingers enter her again. Surprised, she sucked in a sharp breath and jerked, biting back a moan just in time.

“I – I was crossing my legs and I hit my knee on the bar under the table,” she lied when her companion asked if she was okay. She wanted to murder Barry when she heard his soft snort of laughter next to her, even as he slid two fingers inside her and flicked her clit with the tip of his thumb. Iris had to grip the side of the table with both hands and focus on her breathing to keep from giving herself away.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” the older woman asked. “You look flushed.”

“I’m-I’m fine,” Iris panted. “It’s just a little warm in here. Anyway, you were saying? Something about –” She let her voice trail off since she couldn’t have said what her companion had been saying if her life depended on it.

Barry was ruthless, sliding his fingers in and out of her, tickling her inner walls. When Iris lifted her champagne glass to her mouth with one trembling hand, he leaned in and whispered, “I want to be inside of you right now.”

“We should dance,” Iris blurted, interrupting the older woman’s story about her oldest son’s girlfriend. Pushing away from the table, she twitched her dress back into place and stood, hoping her trembling legs weren’t noticeable. “Barry?”

His smile was entirely too smug as he followed her to his feet. “Of course,” he agreed, stepping slightly behind her to block the evidence of his arousal from view. “Lead the way.”

Iris stepped towards the dance floor, even as she scanned the room for the nearest exit. A dance had been a convenient excuse to get away from the table; what she really wanted was to get him alone. Finally spotting a door leading outside, she started to skirt the crowd until Barry grabbed her hand and gave it a tug, pulling her into his arms.

“I didn’t really want to dance,” she mumbled as his arm went around her, pulling her close.

“I know,” he whispered, nuzzling the side of her neck. “But if we just disappear, people will ask questions.”

Leaning in, she pressed against him, feeling the hard line of his erection through their clothing. “And if I take you inside me right here in the middle of all these people? Will they ask questions then?” His chuckle was pained, so she pressed her advantage.

Standing on her tiptoes, she whispered in his ear, “I can feel how hard you are. I want to take you into my hand. My mouth. Stroke you slowly. You’ve already felt how wet I am. I’m so ready for you to slide inside me and –”

“Let’s get some fresh air,” Barry blurted, spinning her around again and nudging her back towards the door. Stifling a laugh, Iris made her way to the exit, stopping only long enough for Barry to grab a half-empty bottle of champagne from a waiter as they passed.

“I thought you hated champagne?” she teased, her voice full of feigned innocence as he held it in front of his crotch, blocking his erection from view.

Barry just glowered at her out of the corner of his eye, directing her towards the line of limos by the curb, waiting to take the esteemed guests to the real party. “Come on,” he grunted.

“We’re supposed to head over to the Prescott Estate soon,” she reminded him as she climbed into the back seat.

Pausing only long enough to give the driver his directions, Barry followed. “Yeah? Well, we may be a little late.”

As the driver pulled away from the curb, Barry pushed Iris gently back against the seat and lifted her leg over his shoulder, letting the folds of the dress slide off her thigh to pool around her waist as she spread herself open for him. Massaging her calf, he stared down at her with a look of awe. “This is never going to get old.”

“Keep frustrating me like this, you’re not going to grow old,” she growled.

Barry laughed and lifted the bottle of champagne, carefully pouring it down her leg. Iris shivered as the bubbly liquid poured over her and then shuddered when he turned his head and licked the rivulets of alcohol off her warm skin. He moved the bottle over her knee and poured more champagne down her thigh, quickly following with his mouth.

“Oh, my god, Barry,” Iris breathed, wrapping her legs around him.

Iris’s breath was ragged as she snatched the bottle out of his hand. Pushing down the straps of her dress, she met his eyes in challenge as she tilted the bottle over her breasts. The liquid was cold as it ran over her nipples, but Barry’s breath was hot as he followed with his mouth.

Iris groaned, running her hands through his hair as he sucked her nipple between his teeth and flicked his tongue against the nub. He licked the underside of her breast, increasing suction to leave a mark just under its curve.

“More,” she breathed as he kissed his way down her chest to her stomach and then down to the open slit of her dress.

“You know what? You were right. I could get used to the taste of champagne, after all,” he joked, his mouth pressed against her skin. “But I like the taste of you even better.” Pushing her thighs wide, he ducked between her legs, running his tongue along her outer folds.

Iris sighed and arched her back, her hands fisted in his hair, holding him tightly to her. She moaned as his tongue teased her with smooth strokes. He scraped her with his teeth and thrust his tongue deep inside her until she was mindlessly panting his name. “Please. Barry, please.”

“Come for me,” he breathed, nipping her inner thigh with his teeth. Lifting one hand, he teased her breasts as he licked his way to her opening again. Pinching her nipple, he speared her again with his tongue, pressing hard against her clit.

Iris screamed as her orgasm washed over her, shuddering against his mouth. Before her shudders could subside, Barry lifted her off the seat, rotating to pull her down on top of him. In one swift move, she guided him to her entrance and sunk down on him, taking his cock deep inside of her.

Her breath catching in her throat, Iris rolled her hips against his in strong, steady strokes. He slid his hands under her ass and squeezed before slipping his long fingers between her thighs to tease her even as she rode him. With a soft hiss, Iris grabbed his wrists and lifted them to the back of the seat, pinning them on either side of his head. He had teased her long enough. This time, she was calling the shots.

Lifting herself off him, Iris fell to her knees in front of his seat. Barry groaned as she took him in her hand, running her fingers along his erection in steady strokes. Taking him into her mouth, she swirled her tongue around the tip of his penis, savoring the taste of their juices on his skin. Iris took him deep in her throat, pressing her tongue against the vein on the underside of his shaft.

Increasing suction, she hummed softly as she bobbed up and down on his shaft. “Iris – god, Iris,” he groaned, his fingers clenched into fists at his sides. She knew he was close to climax, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she cupped his balls in her hand, pressing her thumb against the base of his shaft as she sucked him as far into her mouth as she could, swallowing quickly as he came.

Iris swirled her tongue against the tip of his penis as she lifted herself off him and smiled as he pulled her on top of him once more. Guiding her lips down to his, he sucked her tongue into his mouth. She rocked against him until she felt him grow hard against her once more.

“Again?” she asked with a gasp.

“Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he growled as he thrust inside her. She rode him hard and fast, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he brought her to orgasm once more. She pressed her mouth against his, swallowing his shout as he shuddered and came inside her, his arms tightening around her waist, holding her against him almost hard enough to take her breath away.

Iris collapsed on top of him, her head pressed against his shoulder as they fought for breath. Bracing herself for what she would see, she glanced down at the dress bunched around her waist, noticing with chagrin that it was irrevocably wrinkled and covered in champagne stains. Barry looked to be in a slightly better state, since his black tuxedo covered most of the damage, though his shirt would be completely unsalvageable.

“Oh, my god. I can’t possibly go to the party like this. What are we going to do?”

With a grin, Barry rested one palm on her leg. “Well, if we can’t go anywhere anyway…”

Iris laughed and shook her head. “Steady there, tiger. I didn’t promise away my firstborn child for you to skip this party. I have an idea. Call Harry and have him bring a white dress shirt to my place. I’m sure I find something else to wear. Though I’m not quire sure how we’ll explain it.”

Feigning a disappointed sigh, Barry pulled his phone out of his pocket. After glancing at the screen, he threw her a sheepish smile. “So, uh…is this a good time to mention that my parents just texted? They want us to come visit them this weekend.”

Iris looked down at the state of the both of them – covered in champagne, her dress in complete ruins where it pooled around her waist, the two of them completely exposed – and hid her face in her hands as she let out a disbelieving bark of laughter. “Of course they do. Oh my god.”

#a lie told often enough #barry allen #iris west #westallen #my fanfiction #fanfiction #rock star au

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