However Do You Want Me... || Chenford / The Rookie

Part 6

They finally find each other at the pool bar. Lucy's eyes are bright and happy, her skin flushed from dancing. She orders a water from the bartender before turning her gaze to Tim. And though his choice of wardrobe for the party is simple, it's undeniably hot. A plain white button-down with cuffed sleeves left hanging open to reveal his ridiculously chiseled upper body over a pair of low-slung boxer briefs that leave her unable to stop her eyes from tracing the slight glimpse of a well-defined V downward from his hips.

"You seem like you're having a good time."

Lucy jerks her eyes back upwards at his words and nods vigorously, grateful that her blush is likely well camouflaged under the flush of her exertion. "I am. I think you were right. I just needed a little time to adapt."

He smiles warmly, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that starts butterflies in Lucy's stomach. "Good. I'm glad. Didn't want you to ruin my experience with your terrible attitude."

Lucy rolls her eyes before turning to grab the water proffered by the bartender. "Should we talk?"

Tim nods, "Maybe somewhere quieter?"

He leads her around the house to an unoccupied side patio, the thrum of the music still audible but duller on this side of the property, with the added bonus of having escaped the notice of the camera crew still focused on the debauchery unfolding at the party.

"So we really bombed at the challenge today."

"Yeah. That was... rough." He tries to keep his focus as she lifts the water bottle, forcefully tearing his gaze away from the deep red of her mouth, trying not to think about how good her full, pouty lips would feel against his skin.

Lucy lifts her eyes to meet Tim's. "I think... if we're going to have any shot at winning this, I think we have to get on the same level as our competition..."

Tim nods, "I mean, yeah. Of course. We're going to have to train; there's the gym and we can rotate running and swimming, as well. Definitely need to work on the swimming if we want a shot at beating the LA County Lifeguards."

Lucy shakes her head, "Well yes, but that's not... the kind of training I'm talking about."

He furrows his brow in confusion.

She continues, "Look, our competition — they're comfortable around each other—"

"We're comfortable around each other," Tim objects.

Lucy shakes her head. "No, I mean really comfortable around each other. They know each other... or at least have known each other... intimately."

Tim's eyes widen, and his throat goes suddenly dry as he catches on to her meaning. His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, "Uh — okay. So what are you suggesting?"

And she's not entirely sure what it is that makes her suddenly so bold. Maybe the alcohol or maybe even the way he's looking at her like he wants to pin her against a wall and rip the robe right off of her, but she looks Tim dead in the eye as she shrugs. "Look, I'm not suggesting we go fuck in the laundry room or anything, just that maybe we'll have a better shot if..."

Tim briefly presses his eyes shut as Lucy's graphic word choice again sends a series of uninvited and alarmingly vivid images through his head — his hands gripping her ass as he lifts her on top of the laundry machine, fingers sliding up under her robe to definitively find out if she is as turned on by all of this as he is.

"Tim," she says softly, and holy shit, since when did the sound of his name on her lips have the power to make him this hot and bothered.

Sure, there had been a few moments before this — small indications that things between them might be shifting. There had been her amusing response to Katie Barnes, giving rise to the question of whether there might be something more underlying her evident jealousy. There had been that moment at Angela's wedding when the magnetic pull between them had given life to his sudden desire to be closer to her. But that had been before shit had hit the fan and then life had returned to normal — distance and time easily dousing the embers of an attraction that was misguided at best.

What he hadn't anticipated was how just being around her — just being back in a situation that meant spending his days with her again — would not only reignite the sizzling embers but give birth to a fucking inferno of heat between them.

He swallows, forcing his eyes open as she continues. "Look. I don't know what the answer is. But the competition today... It was just the start. Things aren't going to get easier. We don't have a shot at winning this if we're so awkward and shy and uncomfortable about being physically close to each other, about touching each other..."

She takes a step closer to him. "I think," she says softly, placing her hand on his chest and trailing her finger slowly down over the ripples of his abdomen, her cool touch creating what feels like dozens of tiny sparks on the surface of his skin, "that this has to be less terrifying for me..."

"And that this," her eyes come back up to meet his, and she guides his hand to the tie of her robe, offering him a single nod of encouragement as he tugs the tie loose, his jaw going slack and his eyes darkening as he takes in the generous curves of her breasts peeking out over top the lacy bralette, "has to be less terrifying for you."

And at this point, it doesn't matter that her words and observations are entirely factual, that her wide brown eyes are completely earnest as they look up at him, that she's solely focused on the tactics of what will be required to win the competition. Because he's not thinking about the damn competition at all, instead thinking of all the things he wants to do to her in that little outfit, or, better yet, what he wants to do to her when that little outfit is a crumpled pile of satin and lace on his bedroom floor.

He runs his tongue over his lips as his body involuntarily responds to her, his breath catching in his throat. "What... exactly... are you suggesting, Lu— Chen?" he asks, futilely clinging to the remnants of a professional boundary that is on its very last leg.

She tips her head back to look him in the eye and shrugs, and he barely manages to suppress a groan as the robe slips off her shoulder in response to the movement. "I don't know... I just— we don't have a shot at this if we aren't comfortable with each other's bodies, with touching each other."

"So... you want me... to touch you?" he asks slowly.

Lucy's breath hitches, and she's momentarily caught off guard by how those words coming out of his mouth make her feel. By the resounding yes that seems to resonate outward from the very core of her body.

She shakes herself, "Yes. I mean— I don't know. I guess so. For the competition... so we can win."

He momentarily squeezes his eyes shut again, never having anticipated that this dumb competition would be testing him in this way.

He clears his throat and takes a step back from her, for the first time in a very long time not trusting his own self-control. "I— uh— Lucy, you've got a valid point, but I think— let's just talk more in the morning. We'll come up with a game plan then, okay?"

Something unreadable flashes in her eyes before she nods, "Okay. Yeah. In the morning." And then she's turning away from him to walk back toward the party.

Inspo for Tim's outfit courtesy of Eric Winter 😂😂😂