Iris! (Need I Say More?)

Hey, Eden fans! Iris here. Yes, that Iris. The annoyingly loveable guy from Pop Star who had all the plans in the world to take over and steal the show.

Eden tried to put a gag order out on me, but I’m a persistent asshole, so we came to a deal. She promised to let me head up my own SERIES!

Apparently, like, Trav is also important to this idea or whatever, but we’re focusing on me. Because, well … *Gestures to my hard muscular physique that can only come from working out like a machine and chasing down bad guys in shitty situations.*

Yo, peeps, my eyes are up here.

I know a lot of people have asked about me and some dude named Ryder. Or maybe another guy from Eleven. But … I’m going to say this as nicely as I can: I only worked for Harley for a short time, and I was bored shitless. I mean, I was so bored I contemplated doing my taxes to cheer me up. TAXES, people. Do you know how many times I polished my guns? How much jerking off I did? Please note I did not do those things at the same time as tempting as it was. Could you imagine that disaster? I like my dick where it is thank you very much.

I have mad respect for those famous guys and all the shit they put up with in their lives, but looking after someone in the spotlight is not my idea of fun.

I like sneaking around in the darkness under a cloak of invisibility. And unlike Harry Potter, I can do it in plain sight. I don’t need an actual magic cloak. What I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people … no wait, Copyright issues. All you need to know is I’m a motherfucking badass, okay? I can’t go around living the life of a celebrity. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have the looks to pull it off, but do you know how hard it would be to kill people when there’re that many eyes on me? I can see it now:

“Hands up, motherfucker.”

“Oh my God, are you THE Iris? I LOVE YOU.”

Wouldn’t work.

Just … no.

I need action and adrenaline. I also never plan to settle down like dumb as bricks Brix. Kids? Fuck that. Marriage? HELL FUCKING NO. It’s not going to happen. My book will be full of me doing awesome stunts and badass things and NO LOVE. It’s true. Eden and I made a deal. Right, Eden? Fuck love and all that?

Eden?

Trick Play Cover Reveal and Excerpt!

Trick Play will be here soon on June 27! To celebrate, I’m posting an excerpt and showing off the cover <3

EXCERPT:

With a nod, I plant my ass on the small sofa in the room, and then Noah takes the seat next to me.

The sound of water crashing over the bow still reaches the room from the black abyss that is the Atlantic Ocean. It’s peaceful until Noah opens his mouth again.

“We should make out.”

I choke and splutter on my beer. “Why in the hell should we do that?”

“I’m not hitting on you, you jackass.”

“Pretty sure askin’ me to kiss you contradicts that statement.”

“Hear me out. You’re uncomfortable in public, and we don’t know each other. The way to make it look natural is if we are natural. Therefore, if we make out, you’ll loosen up.”

I hate that he has a point, but we can’t cross those lines. “We should make this a purely platonic arrangement so there’s no confusion.”

“There will be no confusion on my part. I understand why you’d be hesitant, because, well, look at me. You’re worried about liking it too much.” Noah gestures to himself, and I force myself not to look.

“Yeah, you’re lucky I haven’t jumped you already.” Even though he does have a great body. Damn him.

“I could goad you into doing it, but I don’t think I have to. You know this is a good idea.”

“It’s really not.”

“Scared you’re going to fall for me?” he taunts. “All the boys do.”

“Fall for your wallet, maybe,” I mumble.

His eyes turn a stormy gray as they narrow, and if looks could kill—

“Fall for you after one kiss?” I scoff. “Not possible.” It’s not possible after multiple kisses. I reckon I’m incapable of love, because I don’t know what the fuck it is.

Noah moves closer.

“Noah …” I shift on the seat.

“You’re way too uptight. I promise I’m not trying to fuck you. Although, that could definitely be fun.”

A tentative hand skims up my side and around my back.

My body freezes, and if Noah thought I was uptight thirty seconds ago, it’s nothing compared to how tense I am right now.

“We have a photoshoot in two days.” His breath tickles my cheek. “You’re going to have to be relaxed and pretend that you like me.”

“So, we can do this then.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “I don’t understand the point of it now.”

“You look about as comfortable as I did when my housekeeper walked in on me balls deep inside my boyfriend senior year of high school. That was a fun way to come out to the parents.”

“You … wha … how?”

If he said that as a distraction, it’s working.

“Breathe,” Noah says. “And just let me kiss you.”

This is a stupid idea. Really stupid. Even so, there’s a part of me that not only wants it but hopes he has a point, because there’s no way I can pretend to be in love with a guy I don’t know and am nervous around.

“Fine.” I lean forward and put my beer on the coffee table in front of us.

He stares at me dumbfounded, as if he wasn’t expecting me to give in. Maybe this is a game to him. If it is, he’s winning.

That doesn’t stop either of us from moving closer to one another.

My lips inch toward his but before I kiss him, I add in a low voice, “This is an experiment only. A one-time thing.”

“Matt—”

“This isn’t going to work, and when it doesn’t, I will gladly rub it in your face every day we have to play this stupid charade.”

Noah laughs, as if he knows I’m trying to convince myself and not him, but I cut him off with my lips on his. Unlike earlier today where I didn’t react—didn’t do anything—this time, I take charge. My tongue pushes past his lips, and I refuse to let out the groan that tries to escape when it meets his. Two seconds into the kiss, I know this is a huge mistake.

I ignore the tightening in my pants and the shiver that runs through me as his hands trail down my spine. Then, suddenly, I’m on my back as he pins me to the sofa that’s way too small to fit both of us.

That doesn’t stop us, though.

His cock lines up with mine, and even through two layers of suit pants, I know he’s long and thick.

Shit, don’t think about his dick.

Noah’s lips break away from mine and skim my bearded cheek. “Thought you said you weren’t going to enjoy this,” he says in my ear.

“I’m not.” Hmm, probably would’ve been more convincing if my voice didn’t crack like a twelve-year-old seeing his first dirty magazine … or in my case a football magazine. Boys in tight pants and pads? It’s no wonder I loved the sport when Dad first forced me to play.

Noah rotates his hips slowly, grinding his hard body against my even harder cock. “Pretty sure this says otherwise.”

“I’m a gay man with a hot guy’s tongue down my throat. It’s simple chemistry. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re wrong. This is anything but simple.” Noah’s mouth comes back down on mine again, and this time, I can’t hold back the moan.

I’m no longer on the ship. I’ve fallen overboard and am drowning in Noah, and I don’t want to come up for air.

“Matt,” he murmurs against my mouth, and his voice may as well have been a bucket of ice.

I push him off me and sit up, straightening my shirt in the process. “See. Didn’t work.”

I reach for my beer to wash the taste of Noah down.

He wipes his mouth and breaks into a cocky-ass smile. “So, you felt nothing, huh?”

“Right.” More beer goes down my throat.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

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COVER: