I Like Being Watched by Jessica Gadziala

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fifteen

Fitz

 

 

 

I didn't like being away.

As a creature of habit and comfort, new places, new beds, new sounds and smells, it was all just irritating and off-putting.

I'd been itching to get home.

But I had no idea I would come home to Wynn in my kitchen in a goddamn red sweater dress that was tame by all standards, but managed to hug her curves in just the right ways, baking me what looked like hundreds and hundreds of cookies that were set up all around the counters on drying racks, and belting out a song about wanting someone for Christmas.

It was a gut-punch of feelings watching her as she shimmied her hips and sang as she pulled a baking sheet out of the oven.

I'd lived in this house pretty much my entire life. It never felt quite as much like home as it did with Wynn standing there in my kitchen, making Christmas for me.

I didn't stop to think, to remind myself that I'd decided to play the long game with Wynn since she'd been weirdly skittish since the night of the party.

I'd softened her with the car, I could tell.

And then the way her face lit up when I told her she had full control over decorating? Yeah, I knew I was onto something.

I figured that allowing her to shop and decorate and bake in the house would help her feel less like an employee, and more like someone who had a hand in making a house a home, more like someone who belonged there.

I couldn't claim to know what the future held, but I could say that I'd decided I wanted Wynn in it for as long as it suited us both.

The thing I hadn't anticipated, though, was the almost overwhelming sensation of rightness when she was in my kitchen like she belonged there, like she would always be there.

It was what ripped away what was left of my control, had me abandoning the long game plan, and storming over to her, grabbing her soft body, and sealing my lips to hers.

There was a moment of stunned inaction before her arms lifted, her hands sliding up my arms, curling around the back of my neck, and pressing her body against mine, melding into me as her lips came alive under mine.

Stepping forward, I backed her up against the island, bending her backward as I deepened the kiss. At her moan, my tongue moved inside to tease over hers as my hands slid from their position at her hips, moving upward to the dip of her waist, up her ribs, then resting at the sides of her breasts until she leaned backward from me, allowing my hands to cover her breasts and squeeze.

Desire made her eyes hazy as she looked at me, her breathing getting faster, ragged, as my thumbs teased over her breasts, but was frustrated by the thick material of her dress and her bra.

Wynn's hand reached for mine, grabbing it, sliding it down over her belly, then up the hem of her skirt. My fingertips teased over the soft skin of her inner thighs before Wynn pressed my hand against the thin strip of material between.

"You're wet for me already," I groaned, feeling her damp panties against my fingers as they started to tease over the sensitive flesh with the barrier for a moment.

"Fitz, please," she moaned, wiggling her hips against me, frustrated, and needing more.

"Please what?" I asked, my thumb teasing around her clit through her panties.

"Please fuck me," she demanded, gaze hungry, ravenous.

I didn't have much control after those words left her lips. I'd managed to keep my hands to myself for what felt like an enviable amount of time, given the fact I knew we both wanted it, were dying for more of what we'd just barely started to explore.

My hand moved up, grabbing a hold of her panties, and yanking until I heard the thin material tearing.

Wynn's eyes went molten at that, but they shut as she moaned when my fingers teased up her drenched pussy without the barrier.

I teased over her clit for an agonizing moment before plunging two fingers inside of her, fucking her with them until she was writhing and panting.

"Fitz... please," she cried, hands clawing at my belt, then my button and zipper. "I need you inside me," she added, reaching into my boxers to pull out my straining cock.

"Turn around," I demanded as I reached for my wallet to find a condom, then slipping it on as Wynn followed instructions, turning around, and pressing her hands to the flour sprinkled counter, arching her ass up toward me, inviting me.

On a growl, my hands grabbed her skirt, yanking it up, exposing her perfect, plump little ass.

Moving forward, I kicked her legs a little wider as I slid my thick cock up her cleft for a moment before grabbing her hip, and slamming inside her.

Hard.

Deep.

And as soon as I was settled inside her, her pussy did that little clenching thing that damn near made me come right then and there.

I had to take a moment to breathe deep before I got control over myself again.

"You're so fucking tight," I groaned as my hips started to rock into her. Not hard or fast, wanting to drive her up more slowly, wanting to hear her crying for release before I gave it to her. "Tell me you've been thinking of me," I demanded. "Here," I added, jerking a little deeper, hearing her breathing hitch at the sensation, then doing it again. "Just like this."

"Y...yes," she moaned, starting to wiggle her hips in circles as I continued to fuck her, trying to get herself closer to the finish line faster than I was going to let her.

"How often?" I demanded, thrusting a little harder.

"All the time," she admitted.

God, I didn't know how badly I needed to hear that until the words were out of her mouth.

I'd never been needy with a woman before. But that was exactly what Wynn made me. Needy. Desperate to know I wasn't the only one feeling the growing connection between us, that she needed me as much as I was starting to need her.

"Are you done fighting this?" I asked, fucking her faster.

"Yes," she whimpered, rocking back into me, getting closer.

"Good," I said, pressing a hand into her back, pushing until she moved flat against the island, her cheek flat on the cold countertop.

Only then did I grab her hips and give her what she needed, what I needed.

I fucked her. Hard and fast and relentless as her pussy got tighter and tighter, as she got closer and closer.

"Come," I demanded as her moans ricocheted off the kitchen walls. "Fuck," I growled as her pussy spasmed around me, as she cried out my name, as she milked my orgasm out of me.

We stayed there for a long moment as we both pulled ourselves back together before I slid out of her, moved away to deal with the condom, and tuck myself away.

By the time I turned back, Wynn was pushing up from the counter, and turning toward me with a big, goofy smile on her face. It took all of two seconds to realize she was completely fucking covered in flour.

"You know, if you wanted me naked, you could have just asked instead of ruining my dress," she told me, patting at the white powder before giving up, reaching down, and pulling the damn thing right off, leaving her standing there in nothing but a barely-there bra.

"That doesn't look like naked to me," I told her, leaning back against the counter because my fucking legs felt weak looking at her.

"What? You don't want to rip this off of me too?" Wynn asked with a saucy little smile as her chin lifted, and her hands went to the clasp between her breasts, undoing it, then sliding the material off, letting it drop carelessly to the floor beside her dress and what was left of her panties. "Better?"

"Infinitely," I agreed, holding out an arm, watching as she fought with herself for a long moment before she gave in and moved forward toward me, letting my arms go around her. "Now, wasn't doing that much better than not doing that?" I asked, brow raising as her gaze lowered, masking whatever emotion that may have crossed her eyes.

"Fitz, it's complicated," she insisted as her fingers toyed with the lapel of my jacket.

"What is complicated about it? You want me. I want you. Seems pretty fucking simple."

"Maybe it's that simple for you. But it's not for me."

"Because..." I invited as my fingers drifted up and down her bare back, enjoying the way she shivered at the soft touch.

"Because I work for you," she said, sighing. "If this goes south, your life doesn't change at all. But I would be out of work."

"I wouldn't fire you."

"Sure, you say that now," she said, rolling her eyes. "But if things went bad, like really bad, there is no way you would want me in your house every day still."

"Would you like me to draw up another document about how I will give you a large and comfortable severance package as well as a positive reference should your job no longer exist?" I asked. "I'm not being a smart ass," I added when her gaze cut away again. "If that will make you feel better, I will do that."

"It makes everything sound so business-like."

"It makes it sound like you are being smart and making sure you have your ass covered," I corrected, going ahead and letting my hands glide down to the aforementioned ass, and sinking in.

"You don't think it would be weird for us to be... starting something when I am still working for you?"

"Would you still be doing all your usual daily tasks around the house?"

"Of course."

"Then no. I don't see why one thing has anything to do with the other."

"But..."

"Are you looking for a way out?" I asked. "If you don't want this, that's fine. We move forward like it didn't happen. You just need to say that."

"I'm not saying that," she said. And thank God for that, because I was pretty much just blowing smoke. I wasn't sure it would be possible to move forward like something had never happened between us.

"Good. So, you're just scared," I said, watching as her head shot up, chin lifting defiantly, but I saw the flash of truth in her eyes. "It's okay to be scared. It's new and different. But I feel like it's important to remember that it is new and different for me too. So we can just go ahead and be unsure about shit together. Sound good?"

"I mean, it doesn't sound good," she said, rolling her eyes, and getting a choked laugh out of me. "But I think I can be okay with that."

"So," I said, giving her ass another little squeeze. "Now that we have that settled, tell me about these cookies."

"Typical man," she teased, shaking her head. "Thinks with his cock and then his stomach."

"Well, if we want another round or two later, I'm going to need some sustenance."

"What? You're not worried about your waistline?" she teased. "I didn't make you any bland, flavorless cookies to go with the rest of your diet."

"Hey, we've been ordering in," I reminded her, giving her ass a swat.

"True. I'll corrupt you yet," she declared, pulling out of my arms, and moving away from me, giving me a full view of her bare ass as she did so.

"I think you've corrupted me plenty already," I mumbled half to myself, but judging by the way she shot me a sly smirk over her shoulder let me know that she'd absolutely heard me.

So then I ate cookies while Wynn walked around the kitchen bare-ass naked, cleaning up her mess.

Her dress wasn't ruined, of course. She could have slipped it back on at any point. But this was Wynn we were talking about. She liked knowing I was watching. So I didn't even try to conceal the way my eyes watched every movement she made, memorized every curve and freckle of her body as she put away the baking supplies, turned off the oven, and cleaned up the flour we'd managed to get just about everywhere.

I'd eaten about ten cookies by the time she finished.

"What are you doing?" she gasped when I moved up behind her as she was putting bowls back into a high cabinet, going up on her very tiptoes to reach.

I lowered myself down to my knees as I pressed her legs further apart.

"I'm still hungry."