Chapter 26
Iris
“What’s this?” Iris asked.
She’d opened the door to find Arden standing there, practically bouncing on his feet, a gift bag held up high near his chest.
“Orders from your fiancé.”
“Orders? For what? I thought we didn’t have any campaign stuff to do today.”
She had her heart set on going to a neat little fae pop-up market where they were selling all sorts of neat trinkets and jewelry.
“No campaign stuff,” Arden assured her, moving into the penthouse. “But plans regardless. Open. The anticipation is killing me.”
“Is it shiny?” she asked, reaching inside the bag.
“Unfortunately, no. But I promise you’ll like it better than a piece of jewelry.”
She was dubious about that.
“More clothes?” she asked when her hand met fabric. “How many pieces of clothing does one woman need?”
“All of them, preferably,” Arden said, making her snort.
“What in the tides …”
Iris drew out a filmy, long white piece of linen.
“Oh, darling,” Arden sighed. He shook his head and took the fabric from her to lift it right side up to reveal …
“Is that a bathing suit cover-up?”
There wasn’t much to it.
It was nearly see-through, with a large slit all the way up the front and one pearly clasp right between the breasts.
“Indeed.”
“Is there a bathing suit?”
“There’s … these.” Arden pulled out a pair of barely there white panties.
“That’s it?”
“Well, there’s also these.” Arden pulled out two green-tinted seashell … stickers?
“What are those?”
“Boob stickers.”
“Boob stickers? I, uh, didn’t realize that’s an area that requires accessorizing.”
“They’re more for modesty. Kind of like your seashell bra. These are specially made for mermaids. They’re very water-resistant. Plus, they match your tail.”
“Oh, all right. So … is there some sort of beach-themed event going on?”
“Actually, that delicious man of yours is taking you on a date.”
“A date? Really?” She was a little embarrassed at how excited she was at the prospect.
“He planned it all himself. And it is good.” Arden pressed a hand to his heart, swooning a bit. “But I’m not ruining the surprise.”
“Please don’t. So, when do I need to be ready?”
Arden checked his watch—with its little hands tipped in pink hearts. “In about half an hour.”
“Wait, really?”
“Finn told Henry he needed the whole day off to woo his lovely bride-to-be. Though, I must say, you seem thoroughly wooed already. Is that a post-coital glow you have going on?”
She doubted it. But the second he said it, her flush betrayed her.
“Was it as good as I imagine it is?”
“Better.”
Arden fanned himself. “Better? You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type. Except that I am. Viciously so.” He paused, squinting at her. “Did you cause the tide to rise with your pleasure? I felt something shift. I assumed it was indigestion. But now—”
“You’re being—”
“Did he whisper sweet nothings? Or, better yet, filthy somethings?”
She opened her mouth.
“Wait, don’t tell me. There was intense eye contact and handholding while the universe rearranged itself around your shared emotional climax.”
Iris let out a little laugh. “Let’s not get carried away.”
“Carried away? Darling, I have been waiting for this moment since you met. I am half-tempted to book a skywriting witch to spell out ‘Congrats on the orgasms.’”
“Please don’t.”
“Don’t deny me this. I love love. Passion is my passion. Look at you,” he said, sucking in a dramatic breath and sighing it out. “Positively phosphorescent. I bet a pod of dolphins applauded at the end.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Excuse me. I am invested. There’s a difference.” His gaze softened. “Don’t try to act like this isn’t the best thing that has happened to this whole situation. You’re glowing, the groom is allegedly competent in bed, and I get the satisfaction of knowing I was right.”
“I think Selene might disagree about it being the best turn of events.”
“Oh, please. Selene is a simp for when the enemies become lovers. She keeps a stash of annotated paperbacks inside a storage closet labeled ‘Plague Fungus Studies.’”
“How do you know that?”
“Gerty the ghost may or may not have let it slip. With a heavy amount of judgment for the numerous explicit scenes where things go inside other things and everyone involved is having a wild time.”
Iris snorted. “Sounds like Gerty needs a hobby.”
“She does. She is silently judging us.” Arden flicked imaginary lint off his sleeve.
“Anyway, Selene isn’t a love-hater. She’s scared.
That real-life heroes don’t exist. That they won’t get to know her coffee order or remember her birthday.
That they can’t make her clutch the sheets and damn near crack their skull with her thighs as they go down on her.
And, perhaps most of all, she’s terrified that happily-ever-afters in real life aren’t possible.
Someday, someone will show her that her romance novels are inspired by real life, not pure fiction. ”
Iris’s head tipped to the side, watching him closely for a moment. “You’ve really given Selene a lot of thought.”
Arden stiffened.
“Excuse me, sweet sea creature, I am merely an astute observer of character. And Selene has that ‘secretly soft, hex-you-but-don’t-tuck-you-in’ energy that demands to be noticed.”
“I don’t know. I think I sense a spark.”
“No spark. I mean, in a purely theoretical, ‘if we were stuck in a cursed tower with only one bed’ way, who knows. But only in theory.”
“Uh-huh.”
Arden shook his head. “You get laid, and now you’re out here trying to hook everyone else up. Anyway,” he sniffed. “Back to you. Have you broken any furniture with your carnal activities yet?”
Iris smiled and laughed her way through his constant—and increasingly absurd—sex questions through the bathroom door as she stripped, put on the nipple stickers, and then the cover-up, before stepping out.
“Be still, my heart,” Arden said. His hand went to where his heart should have been.
“Where is that bird of yours? He would have a lot to say about you looking paparazzi-ready. But for you and your lady business, let’s hope your man has arranged a very private venue so the two of you can commune carnally without violating public decency or accidentally awakening a dormant sea god.
Ah,” he said when there was a knock on the door. “I believe that is your ride.”
Sure enough, there was a driver on the other side of the door, so the two of them followed him down to the street, where the driver waited beside a black car.
“I’m so happy for you and not at all jealous.”
“You should go and see Selene,” Iris said. “See if she wants to hang out. And maybe make some … spicy magic.”
“Enough, you,” Arden said, poking her in the nose. “Have a shamefully sexy time.”
With that, Iris was tucked in the back of the car and driven out of the city. Her curiosity grew as they drove down the shore until they reached the bay marina.
“Are you sure this is right?” she asked, leaning between the front seats.
“Yes, ma’am,” the driver said. “I’m supposed to tell you to walk down to the end.”
“It was Finn Westrock who hired you, correct?”
“Yes, our future mayor, Mr. Westrock himself.”
Huh.
Okay, well, it made no sense. But she could practically hear the ocean calling to her.
“Thanks,” she said.
Stepping out onto the dock, Iris paused, lifting her head to the sky, feeling the sun beat down on her as she sucked in a greedy breath, smelling the salt water and brine.
She could feel the ocean humming in her veins, just begging her to dip in a toe, to shuck off her cover and dive in.
She resisted the urge to jump in and continued down the dock toward the end, where Finn was standing in a pair of white swim trunks and a blue-and-white-striped top, left open in the front.
The wind kicked up, making his hair flutter and his shirt whip backward, exposing his chest and stomach.
Iris’s footstep stuttered as her belly flipped, her desire seemingly always simmering just below the surface.
“You look beautiful,” Finn said as she approached.
As soon as she was within reach, his arm slid around her, pulling her flush to his chest, and then he ducked his head to claim her mouth with a long, deep kiss.
“What are we doing here?” Iris asked. Need was humming through her, but there was no way for them to give in to those desires right there.
“We are taking a boat out on the water.” Finn gestured toward the side where a new-looking cruiser sat, just waiting for someone to board.
“A boat? You want to go out on a boat?” Did she even want to go on a boat? Sure, she’d seen thousands of them cutting through the surface of her home before. She’d never considered if she would want to be the passenger on one.
“I want to take you out on a boat,” he said. He moved away to step onto the boat, then held out a hand for her.
She tamped down her concerns about his safety. She could certainly save him if he fell overboard. Then she placed her hand in his and let him help her aboard.
He led her from the swim platform and into the galley, which featured a table and wrap-around cushioned seats. They moved through to the cockpit.
“Why don’t you catch some sun?” Finn suggested. He gestured out to the bow sun pad. “I’ll untie the deck lines so we can head out.”
Confused yet curious, she did as instructed, moving out onto the bow to lower onto the cushioned sun pad.
She turned to watch as Finn made quick, effortless work of undoing the deck lines, then moved into the cockpit and took off from the dock.
It struck her that there were clearly many things she still didn’t know about her fiancé. She was going to enjoy figuring it all out.
The ride was smooth, and she got comfortable on the pad. Acutely aware that Finn had to look past her to see where they were going, she sat up to slowly remove her cover-up, then lowered back down, bare—save for the stickers and the barely there material of her panties.
Even over the roar of the engine, she could have sworn she heard Finn groan.
The marina and the beach became specks in the distance when Finn cut the engine and dropped the anchor with a small splash.
The waves gently rocked the boat as Finn moved out from the cockpit to stand in front of her. He lowered down to his knees at her feet, making anticipation sizzle across her nerve endings.
His hands slid up her calves, then thighs, before snagging the waistband of her panties and drawing them slowly down her legs.
Leaning down, he kissed just inside her knee.
“Go swim,” he said.
But his eyes were as heated as the desire blossoming through her system.
“That’s … not what I thought you were going to say,” she said, her voice thick with her growing need.
“No?” Finn’s eyes were molten.
Her head shook, and she took a deep breath just to watch his gaze slide to her chest.
Then, slowly, she let her legs drift open, a silent invitation, an aching confession.
This time, she definitely heard his groan as his gaze slid down.
Then he was on his stomach, his face between her thighs, his tongue tracing up her core.
Iris’s back arched as her legs slid over Finn’s shoulders, her hips rocking against his tongue as he teased around her clit.
Her soft whimpers grew to desperate moans as Finn effortlessly teased her upward. Each slow circle unraveled her a little bit more, until the orgasm pulsed out of her in waves, sharp and sweet, leaving her shaking.
Finn’s head shifted, kissing down her thigh, before he moved back to his knees, his fingers drifting lazily up and down her legs.
“Better?” he asked, his eyes still heated.
Iris folded up, her hand sliding down his chest. But his hand caught her wrist, pulling it up and pressing a kiss to her palm.
“There will be time for more later.” His fingers slid through hers, pulling her to her feet, then leading her through the cockpit, galley, and onto the swim deck. “Go on,” he urged, waving toward the water.
Did she want to climb onto his lap and feel him slip inside her? Yes. But she could practically feel the ocean reaching for her.
Swim now, mutual satisfaction later.
With that, Iris sucked in a deep breath and jumped into the water.
She didn’t surface right away. She felt her tail emerge and wave through the water, swimming in dizzying circles, moving halfway to shore, then all the way back.
Only then did she break the surface, watching Finn standing there, his shirt abandoned, his eyes warm as he watched her.
Then, in one quick, heart-sinking move, he jumped into the water.
Iris dove down, her hands desperately reaching for him, but he was already slipping to the surface, where he broke, beaming at her confused expression.
“You’re swimming.”
“I am.”
“But how? You told me you can’t swim.”
“And I decided that if I wanted to be with a mermaid—and I did—then I should learn.”
“You learned to swim for me?” Her voice was a soft whisper as her eyes went watery.
“I did,” he said, making his way to her. “I wanted to be able to enjoy the ocean with you. Though I still have some work to do.”
Iris reached for him, wrapping her arms around his back, her tail twining instinctively around him, as if it were saying what her heart was singing.
Hers.
He was all hers.