He nods briefly before speaking. “Okay. I can understand that.”
It’s only when he gives into a broad grin that I know I’ll get my wish. All the counseling in the world would pale compared to my getting even with Ralph by…
Actually, I’m not sure what I want to do him, just that it needs to be painful. Am I capable of exacting bodily harm like that?
This has me looking at Wyatt again. Whereas I’m a wimp, I doubt Wyatt would be as squeamish. I’m now grinning as broadly as he is, maybe even more so with this appearing to cause him concern.
Not wanting to waste a second on exacting revenge, I toss all my belongings back into the suitcase and zip it shut.
I’ve yanked my case onto the floor and am attempting to drag it out the bedroom door when Wyatt stops me. “Hang on. Where do you think you’re going?”
At my visceral reaction to him touching me, I’m momentarily lost for words, although thankfully not for long. “But you said, you said, I could be a part of it?”
“And you will. But before that can happen, we’ll have to get a few things lined up. We’ll only get one shot at this, so we need to be prepared.”
“But, when? I want to get on with my life.”
Wyatt looks at me and then at the bed. “It’ll have to be after your shoot tomorrow.” He then looks longingly at my suitcase before adding. “In the meantime, you may as well make yourself comfortable.”
After this ambiguous aside, he turns and leaves me on my own.
I’m not sure how to take his suggestion. Part of me is all for slipping into some of that lingerie and to heck with wearing breast petals. I’m wildly fanning my face at the very thought when I realize Wyatt is watching me from out in the main living area.
As I take in how dark his eyes are, I know exactly what I’d like to do.
But do I dare? What if I’ve read the signals wrong? What if it’s my being as aroused as I am that has me thinking he wants me?
WYATT
Damn it, I can’t think straight. Not with images of Phoebe wearing some of the lingerie from her suitcase cluttering my mind. And without benefit of nipple covers, too.
I need to concentrate on trapping a man, not this woman. I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about how her nipples would peek out of the slits in that bra.
Black silk always does it for me. Add in black lace and more holes than a Swiss cheese and my cock is raring to go. What I really need is a cold shower, but the only way to the bathroom is through the bedroom.
I can hardly breeze through there, telling her I’ve got a boner I need to deal with. That open invitation in her eyes would be too much. It’s when looking through the gap in the curtains that the solution comes to me.
While Phoebe has to be careful about going outside, the same isn’t true for me. The plunge pool in the courtyard will be cold. Experience tells me it’ll be achingly so, and able to deal to my erection before I’m tempted further.
At least this way I can sort myself out without leaving her on her own. That’s not happening with Ralph on the loose and him knowing exactly where she is.
I speak while ensuring I keep my back to her. “I’m just stepping outside for a moment. Make sure you keep the curtains shut.”
Without waiting for a response, I slide open one of the large doors, just enough for me to sneak outside. Once through the gap, the curtain falls back into place, concealing me from Phoebe.
I need to make this fast. After kicking off my shoes, I strip down to my boxers, the rest of my clothes folded and placed on one of the old-school wooden sun loungers.
I’m about to jump into the pool when I realize the only towels are in the bathroom. A brief glance at the still-closed curtains and I ditch my boxers.
After this, a simple step forward and I’m swallowed whole by the ground-level pool. Because it’s over ten-feet-deep, I submerge fully, with every nerve ending screaming for release along with my cock.
It was the sort of set up that would usually go with a sauna, and yet there isn’t one in the villa that I’m aware of.
One second I’m floating near the bottom, the next a vision in black lace drops into the water next to me. And damn if I wasn’t right about those nipples.
But I can’t go there. I’m tasked with taking care of Phoebe. And that doesn’t include taking care of ALL her needs, but hell, I’m tempted. I know exactly how I’d go about it, too.
I’m even reaching out when she kicks urgently to the surface. This leaves me with a face-full of matching lace panties, slits and all. What the hell? Is she doing it on purpose?
