*Beta'd by sendtherain

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16. He's Jealous

He's jealous again. I'm pretending not to see it, but I know.

Barry Allen is the most attractive man in the world to me, despite what my teasing of Oliver Queen being hot might suggest, because he's the total package. He's a cute nerd and a smooth superhero. He has a heart of gold and is my very best friend. He'd do anything in the world to protect me, and he's so in love with me I know he'd never stray.

So truly, he has no reason in the world to be jealous.

But he is.

Because a muscular, traditionally good-looking man by the name of Dale has sent a drink over to me three times while Barry was off helping someone catch their balance or quick following the sound of a siren outside the night club. Seconds in the grand scheme of things, but this sleezebag noticed. And then Barry noticed. And when I harmlessly flirted to get Dale off my back, Barry really noticed.

"Hey, Iris," he says, watching Dale across the room. "Will you dance with me?"

I know it's mostly due to showing male dominance on the dance floor, but I can't help it. My heart leaps into my throat at the prospect of dancing with my man – slow-dancing, dirty dancing, fast dancing, all of it.

Of course, the first song that hits the floor requires sexy dancing, and Barry is grinding up against me in no time. I stifle a moan because I could not be more turned on right now if I tried. Barry is seconds away from moving his hands on my hips to my breasts, and my body is aching for him to do it.

"Iris," he whispers hotly in my ear, and the sound alone makes me delirious with pleasure.

"Yeah?" I whisper back breathily.

He turns my head back a little further and seals any words with a passionate kiss.

I'm drowning in intoxication, and Dale leaves the club.