Page 63 of Prey It By Ear

I can’t help it—I laugh and the sound bounces off the walls. My complaints keep coming, but they lose their edge as I relax into the absurdity of his behavior. I trust these men, and Fitz has been on my side from the moment we first met. Why fight whatever the crazy ass has planned? It’s always fun, and I could use some relaxation.

“For the record,” I say, trying to sound stern, “I have to get up at five am, I won’t get a lunch break, and my body is a freaking mess from today. If you don’t put me down right this second⁠—”

He kicks open the door to my room, and the force of it ricochets my words back at me.

“—I will… sue, and Farley will—oh my god, you’re going to break shit, Fitz! Rennie will lose his mind.”

My mate sets me down and spins me so I’m facing him, grinning like a tiger that has eaten all the canaries and would do it again. “Because you, Baby Girl, need urgent and aggressive relaxation therapy, and I am the handsome, yet unlicensed professional body rubber on duty.”

“That is not a real thing, and if you start anything involving tickling, I swear I will⁠—”

But it’s too late because he leans in, nose to nose, and says, “You’re not escaping me until you’re a puddle of zero stress and have had as many orgasms as you can take before you finally pass out. Now be a good little bunny and say ‘yes, Fitzy’, so I can get the room ready and then work on you.”

I snort, which he immediately kisses off my lips. For one sweet moment, there’s no exhaustion, no soreness, just a perfect, hot, Fitz-shaped barrier between me and the rest of the world.

“Okay,” I breathe out, barely a whisper, “but what about everyone else?”

He flashes his wolfish grin. “They’re coming once I have you good and ready. Had to replace you in the kitchen, or Chessie would pout.”

Giving him a smile of surrender, I whisper, “Yes, Fitzy. I agree to let you guys take my mind off everything in the world but you.”

He bops my nose and beams crazily. “Good girl! Now get your cute little tail to the bed.”

I listen, letting him run the show as I flop onto my bed and the springs answer with a shriek so obscene I blush. Fitz runs over and bounces the mattress twice for good measure, then plants a final, triumphant smacking kiss on my lips. Winking, he bounds over to the other side of the room where Jinx is perched like a judgmental fuzzball, her tail wrapped tight and eyes slitted with the purest feline indifference. She stares at Fitz as if she’s daring the much bigger feline to come bother her.

Fitz points at her, and then points at the door. “You can’t be here for this, little sis. This is top-secret, five-alarm, naughty bunny-only content.”

Jinx doesn’t move, so my tiger shrugs and scoops the sand cat up with all the respect of a high priest handling a relic. He sets the cat down, tsking softly. “Sorry, little dude. I owe you a treat, probably, but it’s time for big kitty games and you’re not invited.”

After that, Fitz closes the door with a soft click and leans against it for a beat with his eyes locked on mine. The cocky, feral grin on his face would make the devil jealous, and my body definitely responds to it, despite how tired I am.

I prop myself up on my elbows, heart already sprinting in my chest. “Big kitty games, huh? Should I be worried?”

He waggles his brows. “Only if you’re afraid of pleasure, Baby Girl.”

I roll my eyes at his antics, but I’m smiling, and he sees it.

That’s all the permission he needs to continue. First, he dims the lights with a slap at the switch, and my room shifts from hospital-bright to a soft, golden glow. Then he’s at his ‘play’ trunk, flipping the lid like it’s a treasure chest in a video game. He hums as he roots around—something slow and dirty, like Barry White—and sets things aside one by one. I watch as he pulls out a bottle of massage oil, and then a jar of some kind of… is that edible body glitter? Then he lays out a set of candles and one of the giant bottles of lube he ordered last year.

Only now, I’m pretty sure it’s not a joke, and I’m in big trouble.

He doesn’t rush as he continues his tasks. Fitz is manic when he’s hacking, but when he’s in this I’m-in-control-and-you’ll-love-every-second mode, he’s so deliberate it’s almost unnerving. Once he has what he needs, he walks over to line the bottles up on the nightstand before he arranges the candles in a careful arc around the bedroom.

I drop the sarcasm as my mouth goes a little dry. “That’s a lot of… equipment… for a last-minute plan, Fitzy,”

He holds up the massage oil, gives it a swirl, and the golden liquid rolls in slow motion. “Get naked and comfortable, and ask fewer questions,” he growls softly.

I don’t bother pretending to protest—there’s not a single cell in my body that doesn’t want to find out what comes next.

His grin is so smug as he looks at me that I can’t help it—I roll onto my back and wiggle out of my clothes. I’m left in a sports bra and a pair of boy shorts that are infinitely less constricting than my usual lingerie, but aren’t remotely sexy. I frown as I lie back, feeling dumb as the tiger holds up the oil with a hungry grin.

“Stop,” I gasp, hands covering my face as I flush. “You look like you’re presenting the Ark of the Covenant and I am the chosen one. I’m wearing ridiculous shit because I didn’t expect this tonight. It’s embarrassing.”

“Never,” he says, “and you’re about to be melted in a completely different way, Baby Girl.”

He places the bottle on the nightstand with the precision of a bomb technician, and then swings back to the trunk for more supplies. He hums the Indiana Jones theme this time, giving his ass a dramatic little wiggle every time he bends over. I’m not supposed to think this is sexy, but my body disagrees violently.

Even when he’s being over-the-top silly as fuck, this man is hotter than hell and so fucking perfect.