"Where's your shirt?" Blake asked, sensing something was up.
"What are you doing here?" Fitz shot back.
"I was looking for Wynn," Blake declared, piquing my curiosity.
I mean, yes, of course, I'd come across Blake several times since I started working for Fitz. He would pop in occasionally to steal some supplies since he had no house manager of his own and wasn't life-savvy enough to remember to pick up TP before he ran out, or laundry detergent until he went to do a load of wash and realized had none.
We talked, sure.
But we never engaged so often that he would seek me out.
"Why?" Fitz asked, voice getting a little rougher.
Like maybe he didn't like the idea of his little brother wanting to talk to me.
Jealousy had never been a turn on for me before, but there was no denying the warm sensation moving across my chest at his tone.
"I wanted to ask her something. Have you seen her around?"
"I don't know, Blake. I don't have tracking devices on my employees."
"Alright. I'll go find her," Blake said, and I could practically hear his shrug before he left.
Fitz stood there for a long moment, taking a deep breath, before turning toward me again.
I guess he was expecting for me to have taken the time to get up, to find my clothes, to get back into them.
But I was exactly where he left me. My arm was rested under my neck. The other was resting lightly on my lower stomach. And my gaze was on him.
"This can't happen again," he declared, voice tight, like it was hard to get those words out.
From the way his gaze hungrily moved over my body, I figured he didn't mean a single word of what he said.
"Okay," I agreed, voice sweet.
"I mean it," he insisted, making no move toward me. Instead, he went toward the far side of the pool, gathering my strewn clothes, then a towel before making his way in my direction.
My gaze followed him, but I didn't move otherwise.
As he moved in at my side, his head tipped back as he sucked in a deep, steadying breath before his eyes opened again.
"Okay," I said again, a soft smile teasing at my lips.
"Wynn..."
"Hmm?" I asked, making sure I took a slow, deep breath, making my breasts press out. He didn't miss the movement.
"You need to get dressed," he said, putting my clothes down on the closest chaise.
"Sure," I agreed, drawing my knees up into my chest, then shifting onto my side, going up on them right at his feet. Then angling my head up to find him looking down at me with fresh hunger in his eyes, likely thinking about me opening his pants, then my mouth, and slipping his hard length inside, sucking him with the same sort of passionate determination as he'd gone down on me with.
"Wynn." My name sounded like a curse on his lips as the hand that wasn't holding the towel balled into a tight fist, like he had to physically restrain himself from reaching out and touching me.
The surge of power inside me was heady, was something I wanted more of.
My hands reached out, grabbing his calves, then sliding upward. Over his thighs. Then to his hips. All the while, my gaze stayed on his, watching the mix of confusion and interest and heat as my hands teased the skin of his abs as they slid up the sides of his stomach, then, finally, outward, grabbing both of his arms, and pulling myself to my feet.
Slowly.
So freaking slowly.
I could practically feel his body shaking with repressed need as I carefully made sure my body brushed his. Just lightly enough that you could call it an accident, but hard enough that he felt the tips of my nipples and the swells of my breasts on his thighs, his stomach, then his chest as I stood before him.
Standing, my gaze held his for one long moment. Then another. Just long enough for me to soak in the way he needed me.
After getting my fill of that, I released his hands, turning slowly, giving him a view of my back.
"Towel?" I asked, voice soft.
"Right," Fitz said, clearing his throat, but even that didn't chase away the lingering tightness that came with desire in his voice.
He moved back a step to spread out the oversized towel as I raised my arms up over my head, pulling up my hair, giving him silent instructions to wrap it around me himself.
After a long pause, that was exactly what he did.
I wasn't faking the shiver that moved through me when his fingertips brushed the swells of my breasts as he carefully tucked the edge of the towel in. Did I go ahead and take an unnecessarily deep breath right then? Yes, yes I did.
And I wasn't imagining the almost pained noise that moved through Fitz's chest as I did.