He'd felt a flicker of hope when she'd momentarily paused at the door - he'd known this was it.
"You don't have to go." He forced the words from his lips before he could chicken out – this was his one chance to lay out those possibilities in the open and he was damn well going to grasp it. Please stay, please stay, please stay. Never before in his whole life had Wyatt willed for something so much. His heart was in his throat, his breath held as he stared at her, waiting for her reaction. He watched as her hand reached once more for the door, and his heart began to sink. But then…
Wyatt was paralysed. Utterly rooted to the spot in awe and unable to take his eyes of her as she slowly stripped. His heart thundered in his chest as she undid the knot of her belt. He stopped breathing as her hair tumbled down her neck. And everything, including him, disappeared from the world as that slinky robe made its way to the floor. So lost in the vision of her naked, he had barely registered what was happening when he looked down at his trembling hands and saw they held her soap and sponge.
"Wyatt?" Her soft voice shook him from his reverie. She wasn't looking at him, her back turned, but she sounded timid, unsure, as if she'd made a mistake. No, no, no – no mistake. He definitely wanted this. Wanted her, God, how he wanted her. He didn't reply. This wasn't the time for words - hell he wasn't even sure he could speak – but he could show her.
He stepped directly behind her and tentatively reached out with his empty hand, his fingers brushing the top of her collar bone. She flinched and gasped, and he yanked his hand away as though burned, as static electricity surged through them. The sudden intensity of the touch taking them each by surprise. Goose bumps fired across Lucy's skin and her chest fluttered with rapid shallow breaths, but she didn't move. Wyatt steeled himself letting out the breath he'd been holding and reached out once more. This time he pressed more firmly, his calloused fingers scrolling across her neck, dragging her wet hair across and down so it hung on one side, leaving her back fully exposed.
Carefully he looped his arms around her frame bringing his hands under the stream of hot water to soak the sponge and rubbing it with the soap to form a soft bubbly lather. The smell of the suds and Lucy's damp skin filled the air and he inhaled deeply. This was the intoxicating scent of her that he only ever got to snatch briefly when she leaned in close or hugged him. It was the scent that he'd desperately clung to for 6 weeks, seeking out any lingering trace of it on the t-shirt and shirt he'd worn when he'd last held her before she was snatched from him.
Setting down the soap he brought the sponge round to her back and gently pressed it against the top of her spine, watching as a cascade of foam trickled down her arch and disappeared between her legs. He gulped. She shivered. Slowly he swept his hand along her shoulders, reverently caressing her skin with the soft, soapy sponge, his other hand gently tracing a line on her waist and hip. He began to move his hand lower, brushing down her sides and skimming the very edges of her breasts, his breath catching again as he did so. OK he'd need to come back to those. Despite the obvious physical impact she was having on him, he didn't want to rush; he wanted to take his time and explore every inch of her. He wanted to worship her.
Though unspoken she understood and allowed him to touch her. She remained still and silent, letting him lead.
He turned his attention to her arms. He soaped the sponge once more before gliding it down towards her hand, briefly entwining his fingers with hers. Her hand was so small against his and yet they fit his palm perfectly, like they'd been made to be a set. He drew her arm up and back bringing her fingers to his lips so he could kiss them softly, as he slid the sponge along the other side, taking care with the delicate skin of her underarm. The movement caused her to lean back against his chest and he let out a soft groan at the feel of her against him, his other hand instinctively reaching for her hip to pull her nearer. He forced aside his own urges and lowering her arm, repeated the sweep on her other side, before gently nudging her forward and away from him. He needed a moment.
Eyeing her washbag, he quickly crossed the room and pulled out a bottle of shampoo. Returning to her he lightly pressed his lips to her neck. She responded with a soft purr, her chin dropping forward stretching her neck out. The effect of that small sound and movement on Wyatt was startling. They'd done almost nothing and already this was without question the most exhilarating and intimate encounter of his adult life. If he hadn't known it before there was no doubt now, he was completely gone for Lucy Preston.
He lifted her head back to him as he combed his sudsy fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp as he worked the shampoo through, the scent of coconut and strawberry adding to the already heady mix. Not wanting to get soap in her eyes he carefully cupped his hands to direct the stream away from her face as the water rinsed through her dark, shiny locks.
Wyatt picked up and re-soaped the sponge. His body had calmed a little though he was sure it wouldn't remain that way for long. He crouched down behind her and began placing long, even strokes down and around her legs. Her thighs quivered slightly at his touch. He placed her hand on his shoulder to steady her, and taking her by each ankle in turn he bent her knee so he could stroke across her feet and toes. Slowly he made his way back up her calves, his finger brushing lightly at the back of her knee sending a ticklish shockwave through her, before stroking more firmly up her thighs, a deep sigh escaping his throat as the lather tumbled down her silky skin.
Standing once more he took her by the shoulders and braced himself. He could feel her tense as she took a sharp intake of breath too – both readying themselves. He turned her to face him and for the first time since she'd stepped into the shower their eyes met. It was electric. Her eyes were dark and wide. Deep, inviting pools full of longing that were opening up to her soul to him. His blue and sparkling like a tropical sea, shining with love and adoration. Their joined gaze lingered for a moment, a spell cast between them, before being pulled down, their eyes flickering to each other's lips. Lucy's mouth parted the merest fraction and Wyatt inclined his head as though to preparing to kiss her but then stopped. No, not yet. Instead he stroked her cheek and thumbed her bottom lip, pressing the tip to her teeth and dragging it down gently his eyes locked on her has he did so.
His heart thrashed against his ribs as he washed her front - rivulets of soapy water streaming down from her collar bone and through the valley of her chest, circling her belly button. He teasingly cupped her breast and stroked her nipple as he lightly rubbed the other with the sponge, then trailed his hand to her stomach as he completed his task on her other side, finally drawing both hands down to the lowest part of her abdomen.
He lifted the sponge into the stream of water squeezing and rinsing out all traces of soap. He met her eyes once more, seeking her permission. She nodded. He snaked one hand round her waist and tugged at her hip, encouraging her to open up a little and with achingly slow purpose, reached his hand between her legs to clean her.
At the feel of his strong hand on her, Lucy lost all resolve. She flung her arms around his neck and pulled him to her, desperate to feel his mouth on hers. At the feel of her pull Wyatt let go of the sponge, but kept his hand in place. They were finally going to do this – finally going to be together.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.
Fuck! Maybe they could ignore it.
There was a second set of knocking, this time much more insistent and followed by an apologetic voice – Jiya. "Guys, guys. I'm so sorry. I just really, really need the bathroom."
Fucccckkkkkkkkk! Exasperated Wyatt dropped his hand and leant his forehead against Lucy's, his chest heaving. Why did their team mates have such shitty timing?
Lucy however giggled at his crestfallen face. "Hey" she whispered, offering him a wicked smile and pinching his bottom, before taking him by the hand, "let's go to your room."