From Air (Wildfire, #1)

by Jewel E. Ann

“We’re even now. Understood?” He shoots me a hawkish expression. “Even? Whatever do you mean? I brought you and your friends cookies.” “And I’m giving you the quickie you suggested. We’re even.” He nods to the room with sewing machines. “That’s where we sew shit.” We parade a few more feet, and he points to the right. “That’s the ready room. And over there is the loft, and the rigging room is beyond that.” He turns abruptly, and I bump into him. When I take a step back, he gives me a tight grin. “There was your quickie. Thanks for coming by.” I snicker, offering him an easy nod while wetting my lips. “Was it good for you? I’m not gonna lie—I didn’t climax this time. Perhaps Todd would have been more effective.” I peer toward the rooms we didn’t visit. “You barely gave me the tip. Maybe that’s all you have to give. A dickhead of sorts.” He crosses his sinewy arms. “Are you done?” I bounce my head noncommittally. “Are you?” He blinks several times before he surveys the entire length of my body. I hold stone still and think of gross things like vomit and nasty flatulence, anything to keep from blushing. Fitz feeds off my uncontrolled vulnerability. “How deep do you want it?” he asks in a throaty voice, reaching for my hand and pulling me toward the tall room with hooks hanging from the ceiling. I try to focus on the surroundings since I’ve never seen a room like this one. However, all my focus goes to my hand in his. Mine’s cold but soft. His is calloused but warm. And despit...