I Like Being Watched

"I can't believe I didn't know this about you."

"I wasn't sure how you would feel about soaps."

"Oh my God, Wynn, you know I would never judge you for what you are into," she said. "Well, except for avocados. Because I am judging you harshly for liking those. You know what I heard about them recently?"

"I don't think I want to."

"That they taste like clean dick."

"Well," I said, mouth falling open. "That... that's... goddamnit, Perry. Now I can't eat them anymore."

"I mean, hey, maybe you like the taste of clean dick," she said, beaming. "But just know that I will be thinking that whenever I see you having some on toast."

"Are you sure you have to go?" I griped, realizing how much I'd missed her lately. We'd both been so busy with work, and then working on our passion projects. We texted and did video calls, but it wasn't the same. "We could order lots of Italian and eat until we are bitching about feeling sick, then eat some more."

"That sounds amazing. But I have my audition. And you need to fit in that amazing dress. But next weekend? We are doing it," she declared as she climbed back off the bed. "Tell me how the party goes, okay?"

"Absolutely. And I want to be your first call after your audition, no matter how it goes."

"You are always my first call," she told me with a big smile as she made her way out of my room.

Alone, I picked out my shoes, and hung the dress on the back of my bedroom door where I could look at and fret about it until it was time to put it on.

And put it on I did.

But not at home.

I'd gone to Fitz's house early to meet all the staff for the party, doing so in ballet flats and a simple pair of slacks and a button-up.

"You're not dressed," Fitz declared as he came down the staircase about an hour or so before the event, still slipping on his cufflinks.

"I've been running around. I have my dress. I just need a minute to get changed."

"I can handle whatever is left," he told me, waving around at the house that looked even cleaner than usual. There was the hustle and bustle of the band, caterers, and servers, but everything was calm and collected chaos.

"You're sure?" I asked, anxious about one of the balls I'd been juggling falling, and potentially ruining the whole event.

"Absolutely. Go up and unwind for a few minutes, then get dressed," Fitz invited.

Whether he knew it or not, a thrill moved through me at his words. Because I knew exactly what kind of unwinding I wanted to do.

"Wynn..." he groaned, letting out a deep sigh.

"Yes?" I asked, tone innocent.

"Don't," he demanded, sounding tense.

"Don't what?" I asked, head tipping to the side.

"You know what," he said, brow raising.

To that, I let a wicked smile tug at my lips. "Don't watch if you don't like it," I suggested, moving past him, making sure to brush him just enough that it could seem like an accident.

So I grabbed my dress, shoes, and small makeup bag, and made my way upstairs.

There were many rooms for me to get ready in. But I walked my ass right into Fitz's room, laying my dress out on the bed, then brought my makeup with me into the bathroom.

Where I did what I'd dreamed about more than a few times in the past. I drew a bath in that amazing tub of his.

Wrapping my hair up to keep it dry, I turned toward the camera, making sure it was positioned toward the tub, then started to strip out of my clothes.

With anticipation sparking off every nerve ending, I slipped under the hot water, feeling it ease the tension in all my muscles. My head tilted toward the camera as my hands started to move over my body, teasing over my breasts, sliding down my belly, then slipping between my thighs.

I knew that Fitz was in the house somewhere watching. In his study, trying to watch in private while people bounced around to get the party ready. Or maybe closed up in a bathroom or spare bedroom, watching on his phone as I brought myself up and through an orgasm, wasting no time since we didn't have it, but needing the release.

Did he get a release too?

Had he jerked off while watching me?

Or had he needed to fight through the desire, deal with a painful erection after I was done?

Either scenario filled me with pleasure as I got out of the bath, as I carefully applied my makeup, styled my hair, and then slipped into the dress.

Perry had been right.

It was the perfect choice.

It hugged my curves, but in a subtle way that didn't make it seem like I intended to be sexy.