There were a few things she'd noticed about Fitzgerald Grant's appearance when she'd first met him.
One, his eyes – they were unfairly bright, and could be oddly distracting during a conversation. Two, his smile. He didn't smile often enough, but whenever he did, it knocked the breath straight out of her, which had been an embarrassing realisation to make.
And three, his hands. His arms in general, too, but specifically those hands. She couldn't explain it.
Olivia took another deep breath. If she was going to make an appearance at the celebration party Cyrus was throwing in this sauve hotel, she needed to prepare herself first. She'd been trying (and failing) to regain composure since Governor Grant's speech less than an hour ago; the one where he laid himself bare to the public.
The most honest thing I can tell you about myself right now, Carol… Is that I am a man in love. With an incredible woman.
Her entire body shivered at the memory. The way his eyes had blatantly slid over to where she stood in the crowd. The way everyone had applauded him, none the wiser that he wasn't talking about his wife.
Fuck. She was in too deep. Nothing had even happened between them – she hadn't allowed it to, and neither had he. They had a silent agreement never to acknowledge what had happened on her first day: the fact he'd fired her as a defence mechanism. The agonising tension between them during that heated conversation. I would be lucky to have you. It played on her mind every night when she tried to get a precious few hours of sleep.
Just as the elevator doors were sliding shut, a familiar hand reached between them. Her gaze snapped up to find him walking casually toward her, hands in his trouser pockets, effortlessly dripping sex appeal even with messy hair and tired eyes.
She wanted to run back out of the elevator. Could she not have five minutes of peace – five minutes where she wasn't forced to face her feelings?
"You're coming to the party, right?"
His voice was low and rough, the sound scraping over her. For some reason, she hadn't expected him to ask.
"Maybe later."
"Why not now?"
He was much closer than he needed to be. Dangerously close, even. He was enveloping her senses – she could smell his woodsy cologne, feel the heat of his body as his arm pressed into hers.
"Because…" She trailed off, refusing to look at him. Why does this building have so many fucking floors? "Because I'm tired, and I've been wearing these clothes all day and I'd have to get changed…"
She swallowed. The air was growing thicker, warmer. His arm pressed even heavier into hers now, and she heard the quiet rustle of fabric as he removed his closest hand from his pocket.
She knew that if she looked at him, it was game over. She wouldn't stop him from trapping her against the wall and finally granting her the reprieve of the kiss they'd been avoiding for the past two months. But god, he was magnetic. She was seconds away from losing all resolve.
"Liv, I–"
The elevator doors slid open, and Fitz turned with a jolt as Cyrus let out a loud cheer. Neither of them had noticed they'd finally reached the floor.
"There's the man!" Cyrus yelled, lifting his glass into the air as multiple others whooped behind him.
Fitz's lips curved into a smile, and he took a reluctant step forward. Olivia's back hit the wall of the elevator. She felt like she was about to pass out, but she let out a shaky laugh at Cyrus' cheering so that he didn't suspect anything was wrong.
Fitz took one last lingering look at her over his shoulder, and her pulse shot up again.
That one glance said everything. The way he was looking at her made her feel like she was standing there naked.
Thankfully, before she physically had to turn away from him to stop her eyes from betraying her, the doors slid shut again.
–-
It was half past eleven.
She'd decided to ditch the party and have a night in – partly because she'd had a throbbing headache all day, and partly so she didn't have to face him again. He was her boss, for Christ's sake. A married presidential candidate. He couldn't be more off-limits if he tried.
But somehow, she'd found herself running a bath and lighting some candles, and thinking about him.
She was lying in the bathtub and desperately trying not to fantasise about his hands on her. Even when he passed her in a hallway, he'd brush his fingertips over her waist so casually, like he didn't know it set her on fire. She'd shamelessly spent time looking at his hands on her first day working for him – how big they were, how muscular his tanned forearms looked; how even from afar she could see the veins disappearing beneath his shirtsleeves.
She heaved in a breath. Fuck.
Just the thought of him was turning her on.
This had been simmering inside her for a while, she realised. She'd been so busy and caught up in her work that she couldn't even remember the last time she'd made herself orgasm. And now she was finally alone…
Before she could talk herself out of it, her hand lazily made its way down her body, brushing over her breasts and stomach. Her eyes fluttered shut, and all she could see were his hands again.
She imagined what it would feel like if it was his hand touching her right now. The sensation of his slightly rougher skin against her smooth thighs, how it would feel to grind herself against the heel of his palm, how even just one of his fingers would stretch her out deliciously.
She let out a moan without even meaning to.
Her fingers had been absentmindedly circling her entrance, and now she moved just one of them, surprising herself with how easily it slid inside. She was wetter and more turned-on than she had been in months, and she had no idea whether it was the lack of sex or just the fact that she was picturing Fitz. For the first time, she allowed her mind to take her there.
With every small thrust of her finger, she thought about riding his hand, picturing the satisfied smirk on his face at how quickly she was coming undone. Then she imagined him talking to her, because his voice was another thing altogether.
Whenever he called her Livvie, something rushed through her so forcefully that sometimes she had to press her thighs together.
She added another finger and bit her lip, hard. She could practically hear him praising her, teasing her, pulling her closer and closer to the edge until she screamed his name.
"Fuck," she gasped.
This was intense. Too intense.
Her mind was overloading now, filling her head with images of him, picturing how he'd look naked. If that's how big his hands are, then…
Another whimper rose from her throat at the thought of him taking her fully in his arms, pressing into her, filling her up. She could see how fit he was even underneath those blue shirts he loved to wear. He could easily pick her up and hold her against the wall, and do whatever he wanted.
"Shit– Fitz–" Her fingers curled inside her, and now she was imagining his cock inside her, his mouth on her nipples, his fingers pressing against her clit. Her back arched, and with a few more thrusts of her fingers, she came more forcefully than she had in a long time.
Her vision blurred. It took her a few minutes to come back to reality, her chest still heaving in time with her racing pulse, and when she did come back to earth, she vaguely registered someone knocking at the door.
For fuck's sake.
She was flushed and sticky and definitely not in a state to be answering the door, but she gathered a towel around her body and made her way to the door, ignoring how weak her legs felt.
"Liv, I know you're in there, just– please–"
She froze. There was another soft knock, and an unmistakeable sigh.
Just in case her mind was playing tricks on her, she checked the peephole. Sure enough, Fitzgerald Grant was currently pacing in front of her hotel room door, his hair adorably messy as though he'd been running his hands through it.
Heat instantly rushed to her cheeks. She'd just been picturing those very hands. This was bad.
She opened the door a half inch, and watched as his eyes instantly brightened with hope.
"I… I can't really talk right now," she whispered.
He took a careful step forwards. "Are you okay? You didn't show to the party, and…"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" He paused, toying with the cuff of his shirt as if he was debating what to say. "Can I come in?"
She blinked. "That's not a good idea."
He sighed tiredly. "Livvie–"
"Fitz, I'm in a towel," she said bluntly. "I was halfway through a bath."
"Oh." The corner of his mouth lifted, and she couldn't help but smile back at him. She opened the door another bit so he could see her face and shoulders, and his expression instantly softened. "I'm sorry for interrupting your night."
As he said that, a familiar voice echoed from around the corner, "See you tomorrow!"
Fitz's eyes met hers, panicking.
"Cyrus," he murmured. "I forgot he's on this floor–"
"Fuck." She pulled the towel tighter around her. "Get in here before he sees you."
He quickly stepped inside and she shut the door, just as Cyrus' footsteps were growing louder. Fitz deliberately kept his eyes trained on the ceiling, but his expression gave him away. He desperately wanted to look at her. He wanted to see all of her, no makeup, no perfect hair. And it was even worse that she was naked under that towel. He wanted to trail his fingers and mouth over every inch of her.
The silence between them thickened.
"Fitz, you really shouldn't be here." Her tone was unconvincing, and he heard it.
He kept staring at the wall, at the paintings, at anything but her. "I know." He swallowed, and she watched his throat muscles work. Her stomach did a painful swoop.
"Why are you here?"
"Because…" He shoved his hands in his pockets and shut his eyes. "Fuck, I don't know. I'm sorry. This is beyond unprofessional."
"We're already beyond that," she whispered. Her hands probably still had remnants of cum on them from the orgasm that he caused. "Fitz–"
"Goddamnit, would you stop saying my name," he suddenly said, his voice strained. "I can't– I'm trying to restrain myself here, alright? And you standing there in a towel and calling me Fitz really isn't helping."
Her lips parted in surprise. He'd never said anything so brazen to her face before, even though they both knew that the sexual tension between them was growing harder to ignore with every passing day.
"Fitz." Usually, she would pretend it hadn't affected her. But tonight, she was inexplicably turned on, and her bathtub orgasm had only just taken the edge off.
His shoulder muscles visibly tightened. He still hadn't opened his eyes again.
"Fitz," she repeated in a lower tone, "would you just look at me, for god's sake?"
"I really don't think that's a good idea."
"Would you rather leave?"
A few seconds passed between them at her challenge, and finally, he opened his eyes and let them drag over her, from head to toe. His gaze quickly turned heated – almost predatory – and he inhaled sharply. The towel barely reached past her upper thigh. Most of her bare leg was on display, and he could see the slope of her breasts that was so often hidden by her work blouses.
He felt his trousers tighten. "Livvie… I don't think you understand what I'm…"
"No, I think I understand." She swallowed, trying to bat away her nerves. "Why do you think I didn't show up to the party?"
He frowned, his eyes flitting between her legs and her face. "I don't know. Honestly, I thought I'd scared you off earlier. That's why I came up here."
"You thought you'd scared me off?"
"Well, yeah." He ran a hand through his hair, like he'd been doing outside. "I thought I'd come on too strong, or something, or you didn't reciprocate, in which case–"
Fuck it.
She let go of the towel, and Fitz's jaw dropped.
"Does this answer your question, Governor?"
He bit hard on his lip. She was even more beautiful than he'd imagined. "I'm going to lose control if you're not careful."
"Then lose it," she whispered, stepping towards him. "We've waited too long already."
His hand slid up to cup her jaw, and she accidentally let out a moan at how it felt. She was right — in his hands, she felt small. And his fingers were slightly rough, just how she knew they'd feel.
His eyes darkened at the sound. "Fuck. I want to hear that again."
"Kiss me. Please."
He dragged her mouth to his in a bruising kiss, wasting no time before he picked her up and pinned her between his body and the wall. She moaned into him, and he took the opportunity to part her lips with his tongue and deepen the kiss, licking into her mouth torturously slowly.
Fitz could feel her hips starting to grind against his upper thigh, seeking friction. His head was spinning, but even through the haze he could feel how wet she was – could feel the heat from her seeping into his trousers.
"Fuck, fuck," he growled, dragging his lips to her neck and slowly sucking on her skin. She tasted sweet, like coconuts. He wondered if it was the bath soap she'd been using before he interrupted her. "You're so wet already, Livvie."
She didn't reply, and he looked up from where he was kissing her chest. She was fighting a smile, but a furious blush had risen to her cheeks, and she almost looked sheepish.
Fitz smirked. "What? You don't need to feel embarrassed about it, it turns me on…"
She tangled her fingers in his hair, and he sharply inhaled at the feeling. "No, it's not that."
"Good." He returned to tracing a hot trail over her skin, planting wet kisses over her before his tongue circled her left nipple. Her hips flew forward into him as her back arched, a breathy moan escaping her lips. "You taste so fucking good."
"Mm– Fitz–" She pulled lightly on his hair, forcing him to look back up at her. "There might be a reason I'm…" She looked down between them, to where she'd been grinding shamelessly against his quad.
His brows drew together in confusion.
"Oh god," she couldn't help but laugh, burying her face briefly in his chest. "I… well, um, there might be another reason I didn't want to go to the party."
He ran his tongue over his lower lip, and she tried not to stare too hard. "Go on."
"The speech, and then the elevator. I needed to calm down, regain composure before I could see you again…" She lifted her head so she could plant small kisses along his jawline. His hands tightened on her thighs, which only spurred her on. "So I ended up in the bathtub, and I was feeling kind of turned on because of what happened earlier…"
Fitz's eyes had turned a stormy grey. He swallowed thickly, his throat dry. "Okay."
"So I've already come once tonight."
His head dropped to the crook of her neck with a low groan. "Liv…"
"Do you not want to know what I was thinking about?"
As soon as the words left her mouth, she flushed. She'd never been so forward before with a man in her life. She liked dirty talk, but she'd never really given it herself. Especially not on the first night with somebody.
"I'm not sure I do," he murmured against her neck, "unless it involves me."
She exhaled. "It does. It did."
He groaned, a low, guttural sound that sent vibrations through her entire body. Even through the fabric of his trousers she could feel him, hard and hot. The premise of what was yet to come made goosebumps rise on her skin.
"Tell me," he whispered, his mouth already back on her breasts.
"I…" It was hard to concentrate when he was teasing her nipple with his fingers and tongue. "I was thinking about your hands."
He smirked against her. "My hands?"
"Y-yes," she said shakily.
"Mhm," he murmured, one hand trailing down her body and making her back arch. "What about them?"
"How they'd feel on me." They both moaned when he first made contact with her throbbing core, spreading her wetness with his fingers. "How–fuck–they'd feel in me. How big your fingers are, compared to mine–"
She trailed off, gripping his shoulders as he teased her entrance. The way he was looking at her, paired with the fact he was still fully dressed in his shirt and trousers – the power trip of it all – was driving her insane. It was clearly affecting him, too. Every muscle in his body was pulled taut, restraining himself from undoing his belt and taking her hard and fast against the wall.
"Why don't we see if you imagined it right." One finger slowly slid inside her without warning, and she whimpered. His eyes flashed. "So tight."
With his lips closed around her nipple and his finger easing deeper into her, she thought she might actually come. Especially with his words, spoken in that sensual baritone.
He could feel her walls fluttering around his finger, and thought his vision was about to black out. He couldn't begin to imagine how she'd feel squeezing his dick like that. And when she started slowly moving her hips and he realised she was trying to ride his fingers, he just about lost his mind.
"Yeah, keep moving like that, pretty girl," he murmured. "Do whatever feels good for you." He tapped his thumb against her clit and started moving it in quick circles, making her cry out. "Tell me what you want, Livvie. I want to know what you like."
"That," she moaned, "I like that."
He slowly added a second finger, and she threw her head back against the wall, making him chuckle.
"Careful. For what I have planned for tonight I'd rather you not hurt yourself…"
He was stretching her out deliciously, and the sensation of him surrounding her was getting too much. She could feel an orgasm creeping up on her, making her toes curl as she locked her legs tightly around his back. This… was better than she'd dreamt. Her own fingers would never be adequate again.
"F-fuck, I…"
He curled his fingers perfectly to hit the sweet spot that made her see stars, and with two more thrusts like that, she came hard. He swallowed her moan with a desperate kiss, his tongue tangling with hers. Her legs went limp around him, and he slid both hands under her ass to keep her upright.
"Are you feeling okay?"
She looked up at him with those doe eyes that made him weak. Fuck, if he was honest, he'd been in love with her since the moment they met.
"Yeah," she said, smiling as he ran his thumb over her plump lower lip. He couldn't believe he was finally getting to kiss those lips. He'd thought about it for months.
"We can stop if you're tired," he said quietly, his hands still resting either side of her face. "It's okay."
She paused, then slowly ran her hand down her chest, over his abdomen, until it rested on his belt. She heard his sharp intake of breath.
"Livvie," his voice was strained. "Stop– I can run you another bath, or get you some water–"
"Be quiet."
His dick twitched in his pants at how bossy that sounded coming from her mouth. He tried (and failed) not to groan when she started palming him through his trousers, feeling him through the fabric. Then she stopped, briefly, and glanced back up at him.
"Can I take off your shirt?"
Fitz thought he was about to combust. "Of course."
Her fingers trembled as she undid the remaining buttons on his shirt, before pushing it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor alongside her towel.
She ran her hands over his chest, feeling every ridge of muscle she'd pictured under those shirts. She'd been right about him working out. Every inch of him was strong and well-defined. He dropped a slow, deep kiss to her lips. "Anything you touch is yours."
That made her want to be greedy, to run her hands and mouth over every bit of him she possibly could. But that would mean more waiting, and they couldn't do that. She could feel his pulse racing, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him, and as much as she wanted to prolong this, she needed him inside of her.
Her hands dropped to his belt, and he let out a strangled grunt. "Fuck."
"Are you saying this is mine, too?" She unbuckled his belt and he finally stepped out of his trousers and boxers. Her eyes widened. He was big.
He saw the look on her face and gently tilted her jaw up with his hand. "Stop worrying."
His other hand, she realised, was on his length, pumping it slowly. The sight sent another rush of pleasure straight to her core.
"And yes," he murmured. "It's yours."
She swallowed, hard. She still wasn't certain this would work, but so far this had been the most mind-blowing sexual experience of her life, so she wasn't about to back down now.
Her eyes met his, his pupils blown wide with arousal. "Take me to bed."
A muscle in his jaw jumped. "Okay." He swiftly picked her back up and walked her over to the bed in the centre of the room. Even during the short walk, she was desperately rubbing herself over his length, and his hands dug into her hips as he gripped her hard. "Fucking hell, do you want me to make it to the bed?"
She smiled into the hollow of his shoulder and rolled her hips once more.
He grunted. "I promise if you ever do that again when I'm this turned on, I'm taking you hard and fast against the nearest wall."
She moaned at the image he was painting in her mind.
"Oh, you'd like that?" Finally he set her down onto the mattress and crawled over her, his gaze predatory. "Not tonight, baby. Another time."
She shivered as he pulled her leg over his hip. Another time meant this wasn't a one-time thing. Whatever this was between them wasn't just for tonight, and at that moment, she couldn't be more glad.
"Please, Fitz…"
"Next time, I want you to be fully dressed," he murmured. "I want to be the one to undress you. I want to drag your panties down with my teeth." He lined his dick at her entrance, coating himself in her wetness. "I want to do it properly. Make love to you slowly, until you're begging for me to let you come. I'd want to make you fall apart with my tongue." He kissed her neck, right where he'd sucked a bruise less than twenty minutes ago. "Then with my fingers, because now I know you love riding my hand…"
That made her hips involuntarily buck off the bed, notching him at her entrance, and they both gasped.
"I'd make you come as many times as you could take," he continued darkly, sliding his tip over her folds. "I'd explore your body until I knew what every inch of you tasted like." He paused. "But not tonight."
She reached up to loop one arm around his neck, pulling him toward her for a brief but filthy kiss. His dirty talk was turning her on even more, which she didn't think was possible.
"I can't make either of us wait any longer," he whispered against her lips. "You're too fucking perfect for me to wait any more."
She whimpered. "Fitz…"
"Oh, shit–" He pulled back, suddenly. "Do you have a condom?"
She ran her hands over his abs unashamedly. "Do you want to wear one?"
He leaned back down, the question flickering in his eyes. "Livvie, are you saying..?"
"I'm on birth control. I trust you."
His eyes fluttered shut for a second. He hadn't even considered the prospect of feeling her completely bare. "Olivia… I'm not sure I'm going to last long once I'm inside you."
She smiled shyly, and the sight made his heart constrict inside his chest.
"I want you, Fitz. Please–"
Her last word turned into a moan as he finally lined up with her entrance and began to press forward, bracing his weight on his forearms. Her other leg wrapped around his back, letting him slide deeper inside of her, and he couldn't help but groan. The feeling was exquisite. She was warm and tight and so wet for him, and this all still felt like a dream.
"Fiitz…"
She moaned helplessly as he finally pushed into her to the hilt, filling her up completely. She could feel how hard he was inside her; could feel every vein on his cock as he brushed against her inner walls. It was perfect. Despite how tired she already was, she knew it wouldn't take long for him to make her orgasm again.
"Can you… can you move?" She whispered, testing the waters by shifting her hips, circling them slowly.
He grunted, pulling her leg further up. "Cross your ankles, baby."
She did as he asked, and then he pulled out, practically to the tip, before pushing back in. This angle let him go so much deeper, and she threw her head back against the pillow at the feeling.
"Fuck, Liv– fuck. You're so good."
She didn't have the energy to respond to his praise, but it made a fresh wave of heat ripple through her.
"Livvie–Olivia–eyes open, baby. I need you to look at me."
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes again, but was glad she did. She wouldn't have wanted to miss the sight of this, no matter how drained she was. Fitz, shoulders bunched and abs flexed, the stray curl of hair on his forehead slick with sweat as he pounded into her over and over. His eyes were grey, glazed over with pleasure, watching her as though he couldn't quite believe this was happening.
"I've wanted you for so long," he grunted, his thumb rubbing soft circles against her over-stimulated clit. "You're like a fucking angel–oh, fuck, Liv."
She moaned, her hips bucking to meet his thrusts. "Fitz, yes."
He smirked at the sound of her voice. She was finally being a little more vocal. He loved it – he wanted to hear her, wanted to pull as many sounds from her as he possibly could.
His movements sped up. He was getting close, but he was determined to push her over the edge before he allowed himself to follow her. And right when he thought she couldn't surprise him any more tonight, she tugged on his free hand and guided it towards her neck.
"Liv…"
"Please," she groaned desperately, "I need it, Fitz–ungh, fuck, your hands–"
He did as she asked. His fingers closed lightly around her throat, adding just a little pressure – not too much, but enough to let her feel that he was there – and he moved one of her hands to where they were connected.
"Touch yourself, baby," he murmured. "Yes, that's it. Make yourself come– I want to feel you come on my cock, Livvie. Fuck, yes."
With him deep inside her and his hand on her throat, her entire body jerked violently as she came, her vision fading away to black spots. She vaguely registered herself screaming his name, louder than she'd intended to, and then his faint chuckle. He moved his hand back to her hip and buried his face in her neck as his thrusts became more stuttered, before finally following her over the edge with a muffled groan.
"Mhm, you're so beautiful when you come."
She slowly came back to reality, smiling when she heard him say that. "Holy fuck."
With great effort, Fitz lifted himself off of her and rolled over with a tired grin. "Yeah."
They lay there with their legs entangled for a few minutes, before Fitz stood up to go and find a washcloth. Soon he was gently wiping at the sensitive spot between her thighs, wincing when he heard her sharp intake of breath.
"Sorry, baby."
She let out a breathy chuckle. "No, no, it's…fine."
"It didn't hurt, did it?" The concern on his face made her melt on the inside.
"No, it didn't. Get back here."
He finished up and crawled back onto the bed beside her, pulling her into his embrace. Neither of them asked if he was going to stay the night – both presumed he would, and he did. She fell asleep with her head on his bare chest, and slept for longer than she had in months.
The next morning, Fitz had snuck out of her room to retrieve a fresh suit, and then they met Cyrus at their usual table for breakfast before hitting the road again. The campaign trail was a long and tedious process, but they were used to the early starts and late nights now.
Cyrus took a bite of bacon and looked at Olivia. "How'd you sleep, Liv?"
She saw a flash of panic cross Fitz's face. They had been pretty loud.
"Better than I have in a while, actually," she said, truthfully. "But I must've slept funny – I'm feeling a little sore this morning."
Cyrus replied, "Ah, maybe you had a bad mattress."
"Yeah, that was probably it."
She prayed he hadn't noticed Fitz choke on his coffee.