Mr Spencer: Chapter 15

What?

“I mean…” He shrugs as if embarrassed by my shocked reaction. “That’s only if you wanted to, and I’d completely understand if you didn’t.” He’s speaking way too fast, tripping over his words as he tries to recover.

I smile and remain silent as I watch him.

He continues to stir the pot, shaking his head as he thinks. “That was…” His voice trails off. “That was a bad idea, forget I said anything.”

“Spence?”

He keeps stirring with his head down, unable to look at me.

I get off the stool and walk around in front of him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Spence?”

His eyes meet mine.

“Why don’t we just see how we go?”

A frown creases his forehead. “What does that mean?”

“It means that we’ve been together for five minutes, and I think that maybe we should stop moving so fast.”

“You don’t like the way things are going?”

I kiss him softly. “I love the way things are going, but this isn’t a race.”

He holds me tight. “It feels like it is.”

I pull back to look at his face. “Why?”

He shrugs. “I’m waiting for the shoe to drop and everything to turn to shit.”

“Spence,” I breathe. “It’s not going to.”

“This is new for me, angel. All this.” He shrugs. “Feeling…”

I giggle. “You think this is new for you? Try being me for a moment. I’m getting used to having sex, falling in love, as well as an ex-girlfriend of yours who is slipping keys into your pocket.”

He smirks and pulls out of my arms. “Oh, I saw her today.”

My face falls. “You saw her today?”

“Yeah.” He goes back to stirring his pot of Indian food, choosing not to elaborate.

“And?” I frown.

“Long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

He dishes out our meals and places them on the counter in front of us. He refills our wineglasses, too, leaving me to just… watch him.

He sits down and begins to eat, as if he hasn’t a care in the world.

“Spencer! Are you going to tell me what happened or not?”

He blows out a deep breath. “It was the day from Hell.”

“Why are you always so dramatic?”

He chuckles. “No, seriously, today was a day from Hell.” He shovels some food into his mouth. “Like… literally.”

I take a mouthful of food for myself. “Why?”

“So, Sheridan turns up and tells me she loves me.”

My mouth falls open in surprise.

Don’t say anything, don’t say anything.

“She wants to move here and make a go of it with me.”

“I thought you said you were just having sex?”

He shrugs. “I thought we were, too. I was bowled over.”

“Well, what did you say to that?”

“I said no, that we were never like that.” He chews his food casually, as if he has this conversation every day.

“And you’ve told her you’re with me?” I ask. Damn this sneaky bitch.

“She knows I’m in love with you. I told her.”

“You told her that you love me. In those words?”

“I think it was in those words.” He shrugs. “Anyway, she knows.”

“How come you tell her you love me, but you don’t tell me you love me?” I ask.

He looks at me, deadpan. “Really? That’s all you got out of that sentence?”

I raise my eyebrows. Hmm, his snarky attitude is pissing me off tonight.

“Anyway, so I’m dealing with her crying and shit.”

“How were you dealing with her?” I frown. “Define dealing with her.”

He rolls his eyes. “I was hugging her.”

I get an image of them in a passionate embrace while he comforts her. “Did you kiss her?”

“No, I did not kiss her. Will you let me tell the fucking story?”

I shovel food into my mouth with force. Do I have to? I hate this fucking story.

“Anyway, so she’s crying and begging for two kids and a house in the countryside.”

My anger begins to rise. Is she kidding?

“She asked you for two kids?” I snap.

“Because she thinks that’s what I want with you.”

I stare at him. “Is it?”

“Is it what?”

“Is that what you want? Two kids and a house in the countryside?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know, you’ve got me thinking all types of crazy shit that I haven’t ever considered before. I did just ask you to move in with me and got shot down in flames for my trouble, didn’t I?”

“I did not shoot you down in flames.” I smile. “It was more like a gentle slingshot.”

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you call it, you didn’t say yes. So, Sheridan is in my office crying and shit, and then my receptionist buzzes through to tell me that Edward Prescott is there to see me.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

“Yep.”

“What the hell?”

He holds up his hands in the air. “Fucking crying ex-girlfriend in my office. New girlfriend’s crazy ass brother in the waiting room ready to kill me.”

“I thought you said she wasn’t your girlfriend.”

“Again with the pointless shit from that sentence.” He rolls his eyes. “The part of the sentence you should only have heard was ready to kill me.”

I smirk. “You are an idiot.”

He gives me a sexy wink as he bites the food from his fork.

“So, then what happened?”

“I got rid of Sheridan, and then I saw Edward.”

“And…?”

“Nothing really. Stupid Alexander York told him I was sniffing around you.”

“Sniffing around?” I frown. “That’s uncouth.”

“I really did want to tell him how good you tasted. You know… to infuriate him more.”

“Spencer.” I smirk. “Now you’re being uncouth. Will you stop joking around and tell me what the hell happened?”

“Nothing other than he warned me to stay away from you. I told him that it was none of his business. He told me he didn’t like me, and then I kicked him out of my office.”

I stare at him as my brain misfires.

He winks that cheeky boy wink again.

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope. That’s exactly how it happened.”

“You kicked him out?” I gasp.

“He told me he didn’t like me.”

“You… you could have tried to be nice to him at least,” I stammer.

“I’m not putting up with his shit, Charlotte. Nobody comes to my office and makes demands without getting kicked out.”

“Sheridan does,” I retort.

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t start that shit.”

“Don’t start?” I snap. “Oh, I haven’t started yet. How did it end? What was the last thing you said to her?”

“I told her I would have dinner with her tomorrow night to talk about it.”

“What?”

He shrugs casually. “It’s the least I could do. I won’t be long. A few hours tops.”

“No.”

His eyes come to mine. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. You’re not going.”

He frowns.

I point my fork at him. “If you think for one minute that I am staying home while you go out with your ex fuck buddy, you can think again.”

His eyes hold mine.

“I am inexperienced, Spencer, not a fucking idiot.”

“She’s just a friend.”

“Who wants two kids and a house in the country with you.” I get up and scrape my plate of food into the bin with force. “She will get there and want a goodbye fuck, and then the two of you will fall back into this pattern of sleeping together behind my back.”

“What?” He stands in an outrage. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“But she would, and I’m not giving her the fucking chance.”

“Since when do you swear every second word?”

“Since fucking sluts piss me off!” I yell.

“Don’t call her that.”

“If the shoe fits.” I storm upstairs.

“You don’t even know her,” he calls after me.

I turn and storm back down the stairs. “Oh, but you do. Very well indeed. Isn’t that right, Spencer?”

He narrows his eyes and puts his hands on his hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means if you want any type of relationship with me, you will cut all ties with her immediately… or else.”

“Or else what?” he fires back.

“Or else I’m out of here, and you can go back to sleeping with her whenever you want.”

“I don’t want to sleep with her. Stop being a fucking bitch about it.”

“A fucking bitch?” I yell. “You haven’t seen a fucking bitch yet.”

“I think I just have!” he yells. “They can see your bitchiness from space. NASA is picking you up on bitch cam right now.”

We glare at each other.

“I’m going to have a shower while you decide which one of us you want.” I sneer sarcastically.

He throws his head back in disgust. “And you reckon I’m fucking dramatic.” He tuts. “You’re going for a fucking Oscar here.”

“If it’s not me, Spencer, then get out,” I say. “Go stay elsewhere tonight.”

He puts his hand on his hips. “This is my house. You can’t kick me out of my own house.”

“I just did, and guess what? I am moving in.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to move in now.”

“Tough shit!” I yell as I storm up the stairs. “You have no say in it.”

“And you think I’m fucking crazy,” he calls after me. “Can you hear yourself, Charlotte? You don’t want to move in with me until someone else does.” He laughs sarcastically.

“You’re not going out with her!” I yell down to him.

I walk into his bedroom and slam the door shut. I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my body.

Calm down, calm down, calm down.

I shake my hands to try and expel some of my negative energy. I am so angry right now. I walk into the bathroom and inhale deeply. I turn the shower on hot, and the water begins to stream down heavily.

I handled that badly, but honestly, what did he expect? I look around for a towel and can’t see any. There are none on the towel rails, none folded anywhere. I go to the top of the stairs.

“Where are the towels?”

“In the linen cupboard. Where do you think?”

“You’re an idiot. And the worst host ever.”

“I thought you fucking lived here now. That makes you the host.”

“You’re lucky this is an apartment building, or I would bury you under it.” I hear him laugh out loud in surprise, and I turn and stomp back up the hall.

I’m not even joking, I probably would.

Twenty minutes later, I’m standing under the hot water, feeling my anger running down the drain along with the water.

At least he told me about Sheridan coming to him today. He didn’t try to hide it, I suppose.

Maybe I overreacted?

He walks into the bathroom a second later, flashing me a lopsided smile. I can’t help but give him one back. He takes a seat on the side of the bath and watches me.

“Sorry for screaming at you.” I sigh.

He exhales heavily. “I’m sorry for calling you a bitch.”

I smirk and pick up the soap.

“What are you doing?” He frowns.

“Washing myself. What does it look like?”

“I told you that I wanted to wash you.”

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it.” I widen my eyes. “Are you?”

He chuckles. “Jesus Christ, where is the shy, sweet Charlotte I first met?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. What on earth have you done to me, Spencer Jones?”

He stands and begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Don’t bother taking off your shirt until you decide what you’re doing tomorrow night.”

He frowns.

“I mean it, Spence. I don’t want you seeing her.”

“Angel.” He sighs. “I gave her my word, and I’m a man of my word. If I make a promise to someone, I keep it.”

“And you made a promise to me that we are exclusive and making a go of this. Meeting with your ex does not fit in with that, Spencer.” My eyes search his. “Please try and see this from my point of view. If I had an ex, would you want him coming into my office and me comforting him about our breakup, then making plans to see him at night?”

He walks to the edge of the shower and watches me for a moment. He runs his hand down my cheek, and then cups my breast, deep in thought. His thumb dusts over my nipple and it hardens beneath his touch. “No, I wouldn’t.”

I rise on my tippy toes and kiss him. My face is wet as it rests up against his, and his big hand drops to my naked behind.

“Keep your promise to me, Spence,” I whisper. “No matter how many times you meet with her, it isn’t going to get any easier. Just the opposite. It will get harder, and you will end up either in bed with her or having a huge fight. There is no in between with the two of you, you know that.”

He drops his eyes to the floor. “I just feel bad, you know?”

I smile softly. “I know.” I begin to unbutton his shirt. “That’s because you’re a good man.”

“I didn’t know that she felt like this.” He sighs.

I push his shirt over his shoulders, and it falls back to the floor. “Of course she would feel like this. I imagine all women you meet fall madly in love with you.”

“I can’t comment.” He gives me his best cheeky smile and shrugs. “I know you do hate a show off.”

I giggle. “Lucky I like idiots though, hey?”

“If you don’t want me to see her, I won’t.”

“I don’t.”

He exhales heavily. “Okay.”

I pull him in under the shower, and he wraps his big arms around me. His lips take mine and his tongue slides slowly through my open mouth. He towers above me and his large frame takes over the space.

He smiles as he kisses me.

“What?”

“You do know I concocted that whole story just to get you to move in here with me, right?”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“You’re terrible at finding towels.”

I laugh out loud. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

“For now, yeah.” He grabs my behind and pulls my cheeks apart. His open mouth drops to my neck and I feel his large erection up against my stomach.

His open mouth ravages my neck, and he bites me hard, forcing me to wince.

And there it is.

The perfect moment where Spencer Jones loses control and he returns to his primal, natural instincts. Where his body needs to orgasm, and he’ll take it whether I want to give it to him or not. He switches from the sweet, lovable man I know, to a hungry predator who needs to fuck.

There is always a bite, a subtle hint that he’s reached his limit. Some days it comes faster than others, but it’s always there. I’m addicted to this man of mine and the way that he makes me feel.

He gets out of the shower and disappears into the bedroom, reappearing moments later as he unwraps a condom. I watch on in awe as he slowly rolls it on. It doesn’t matter how many times I watch him do this, it always fascinates me.

When his eyes rise to mine, I see the hunger in them, and my stomach dances with nerves.

Then he is on me. I’m pushed up against the wall as his open mouth takes mine. His hand holds my jaw just the way he wants me, and he grinds his hard cock up against my hipbone.

“We need to fuck, angel.”

“Yes,” I whimper against his lips. He lifts me and wraps my legs around his waist. I’m pinned against the wall by his hard body. He kisses me slow and deep as he slides his hard dick through my swollen wet lips.

“You want my cock?”

“Hmm.” I hold onto his shoulders for balance. His tongue slides through my open lips again as he takes what he needs. Does he honestly think I can string two words together when he has me like this?

With two hands, he brings me down onto him hard, and I feel the familiar stretch as his body dominates mine.

My eyes close and I release a whimper.

He smiles darkly and circles himself deep inside of me. “You like that?”

“God, yes.”

He lifts me and slams me back down again, knocking the air from my lungs.

I throw my head back against the tiles and he builds a rhythm. The room is steamy and hot. Water is streaming down over his face, yet the way he is looking at me might just set me on fire. He goes faster and deeper, lost to his own concentration. He stares straight ahead as our skin begins to slap together.

“So. Fucking. Good,” he pushes out.

My body convulses forward, and he sees that as his signal to really let me have it. With both hands over my shoulders, he slams into me again and again, and I screw up my face and cry out as a freight train of an orgasm steals my breath.

He lifts me like a feather on and off his large muscle.

“Oh, that’s it. Clench that beautiful cunt for me, baby. I want to feel it.”

Slam.

Slam.

Slam.

“Clench!” he growls.

So, deep… too deep.

“Charlotte, fucking give it to me.”

My face creases up as I try and deal with him. He’s like an animal when he gets to this point. The only thing he’s thinking about is the orgasm his body craves.

My head begins to hit the tiles as he really loses control, and the sound of our skin slapping is deafening around us.

“Fuck, yeah,” he cries as he holds himself deep. His whole body lurches forward, and I feel the telling jerk of his cock as he comes in a rush deep inside of me.

I can hear my pulse ringing in my ears.

And then he kisses me, and it’s soft, tender, and a reminder that my gentle man has returned. He smiles against my lips, his body still having me pinned to the wall. I can feel his heart beating hard in his chest, and I bury my head into his neck as he holds me tight.

This is it. This is what I’ve been searching for all this time.

He stays deep inside of me. I smile against his neck with my legs still wrapped around his waist.

“I thought you were washing me,” I pant.

“Hmm.” He kisses me again. “I thought I should get you dirty first. This is the deluxe car wash.”

I giggle and our lips linger over each other’s. “Did you just call me a car?”

“Maybe?” He smiles and he pulls out, gently lowering me to the floor. “You’re not dirty enough, though.” He pulls his condom off in disgust. “I hate these fucking things.” He huffs as he puts it in the bin beside the shower. We stay in each other’s arms under the hot water. The room is quiet with the sound of the shower the only sound to be heard. I can feel myself begin to relax.

“What are you going to do about tomorrow night?” I ask.

“I guess I’ll call her when I get out.”

My eyes hold his.

“You can listen, if you want?”

“No. I don’t need to listen.”

He smiles down at me and fixes my hair in a bun on top of my head. “You know, you’re kind of hot when you’re angry.”

“Can I have that on tape, please?”

He chuckles and picks up the soap to lather my body. “Except for the death threats and all.”

“It wasn’t a death threat,” I say. “Only a burial threat. There’s a big difference.”

His soapy hand goes down to between my legs. “Should I be sleeping with one eye open, Prescott?”

I laugh out loud. “Seeing as you kicked my brother out of your office today, I think you should.”

It’s late and I’m in bed alone. I can hear Spencer downstairs on the phone…

To her.

He’s been on the phone for forty minutes and he seems to be listening a lot. She obviously has a lot to say.

The green-eyed monster in me is fuming and wants to stomp down there and make him hang up, but the woman in me feels sorry for her. I can’t imagine what it would be like if he told me he was in love with someone else. But then, I could never imagine sleeping with him for ten years casually. Did she get the same Spencer that I get?

Or was he different with her?

How did they meet in the beginning? Was it always about the sex? My mind begins to go off on a tangent as I imagine him going to her hotel whenever he met her.

Did they have a routine?

Would they go straight to bed and fuck? Or did they spend time with each other like we do? Having dinner, talking, and laughing.

I close my eyes in disgust with myself.

Stop it! He’s ending it.

My mind keeps picking up speed, though. When they had sex, was it better than what we have? Did she do what I don’t know… anal?

My stomach flips imagining him fucking her. I wonder, do they kiss while they do it like we do?

Did he look at her after it was finished the way he looks at me?

I get a vision of her from the hotel that early morning—her and her power suit, with a figure to die for. She was confident in every way, which is the exact opposite of me.

I close my eyes as the disgusting taste of bile fills my mouth.

I can’t stand the thought of him with her… touching her.

I can hear his voice rise, and I sit up. What’s he saying? I get out of bed and sneak out of the bedroom, down the hall, and sit on the top step. He’s in the dining room and can’t see me from where he is. He, thankfully, has no idea I can hear him.

“Because she’s right!” he snaps. “We both know she’s right. If we meet up, we’ll either end up in a huge fight or in bed. That’s how we are.”

My heart drops.

“But I don’t want to end up in bed, Sheridan. Fucking listen to me. I’m going blue in the face here.”

He listens for a moment.

“No, I don’t want that.”

He listens again.

“No. Look this is going nowhere. You’re not fucking listening. I’m changing my phone number and I’m telling my receptionists that you are not to come into my office unannounced again.”

He listens.

“Because of you dropping to your knees under my desk today!” he snaps. “You can’t fucking touch me. I’ve asked you multiple times to stop and you won’t, so it’s quite obvious to me that we can’t be just friends.”

What the hell? She dropped to her knees under his desk? Did she go down on him?

Oh my God, what the hell happened in his office today?

What if Edward hadn’t interrupted them?

My heart begins to hammer

“For fuck’s sake, stop it!” he snaps. I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s beginning to get angry. “No, you listen to me: you do not go near Charlotte or there will be hell to pay.”

She says something that makes him pause.

“She makes me happy, Sheridan. You always said you wanted me happy.” He listens again. “There is a big difference between the two, and besides, have you forgotten that you have a fucking boyfriend?”

She has a boyfriend. What the hell?

“I don’t care if you’re in an open relationship. No. I don’t want you to end it with him. For the first time in my life I don’t want an open relationship. I want Charlotte all to myself and I can’t think of anything worse than having sex with someone else who isn’t her. This is why I can’t be with you. I don’t physically want to be. I’m not into it like I was before I met her.”

I smile to myself.

“Don’t you fucking dare bring this back on me,” he whispers angrily as he tries to keep his voice down. “I’m blocking you, and if you dare to go near Charlotte, you see what fucking happens.”

I hear a bang and it sounds like his phone has been thrown across the room.

Shit.

I get up and run back to bed, diving under the covers.

After a brief bout of silence, I hear ice being poured into a glass from his refrigerator.

I lie in the darkness as fury pumps through my bones…How fucking dare she?

She goes to his office, drops to her knees even when he’s told her that he’s in love with someone else, and now it sounds like she threatened him that she’s going to come to me.

And say what?

Well, she’s got another thing coming if she thinks I’m taking her shit.

I’ve waited a long time for Spencer to find me, and I’m not handing him over to a woman who fucks at the drop of a hat.

I’ll be waiting, Sheridan.

Come at me.

I blow into my coffee cup while sitting at the kitchen counter. It’s now 7:00 a.m. and I’m up and dressed for work early.

Spencer didn’t come to bed until very late last night. I was fast asleep by the time he did, and the last time I checked the clock it read 3:00 a.m.

What was he doing downstairs?

Did he call her back? Was he having second thoughts?

My mind is in overdrive but I’m not falling into the insecure trap. Well, I’m trying my best not to, anyway.

I’m not sure about this love thing. It’s like you hand your heart over to someone and hope to God that they don’t break it.

Part of me feels sorry for Sheridan. I can only imagine how she must feel to have lost him. But part of me is terrified that one day I’ll find out for myself. I exhale heavily and stare out of the window to look out over London.

Stop thinking like this! It’s destructive to both of us.

Nobody needs an insecure girlfriend.

“Good morning, angel.”

I turn to see him walking into the kitchen, his CEO attire firmly in place. Today he’s wearing a navy suit, crisp white shirt, and a paisley tie. His golden hair is just washed, and he’s freshly shaven, too. Spencer exudes opulence…way more than I do.

The expensive watch, the shoes, the ridiculous good looks… he’s the whole, delicious package. Lara’s words of warning come back to haunt me. He’s heartbreak in a hot suit.

His big blue eyes meet mine before he kisses me softly. “I missed waking up with you this morning.” He smiles down at me.

“Good morning, Mr Spencer.” I smile and wrap my arms around him. His tongue slowly slides through my open lips and he sucks on me with just the right amount of pressure.

The way he kisses me is just so…

His eyes drop to my toes and then back up to my face. “You look fucking edible today, angel.”

I force a smile. “Thanks.” I’m wearing a tight grey skirt that hangs just below my knees, and a white silk shirt with a matching grey suit jacket. It’s a power suit… the kind I know he likes.

Stop it.

Damn it, I hate this insecurity nonsense. This isn’t who I am at all.

His eyes drop to my feet again and then up over my hips. I feel the heat from his stare burn my skin, and he readjusts himself in his suit pants.

“What time did you come to bed?” I ask.

He licks his lips as his eyes drop to my breasts and he cups one of them, fascinated. “Late.”

My eyes hold his. “Did the phone call go well?”

His lips drop to my neck and he holds my jaw in his hand. He bites me and I feel goose bumps scatter up my spine.

“Yeah,” he murmurs against my skin.

“What did she say?”

He bites me on the base of my neck and his hand drops to my behind as he grinds me onto his hard cock.

“Spencer…” God, the man’s an animal. Is sex all he thinks about?

“Hmm, why are we talking about Sheridan?” He kisses me again. “I only want to talk about you in this fucking edible outfit.”

“Because I want to know what she said.”

He pulls away from me and my body instantly hates it. “She was pissed off and carrying on.”

“What do you mean?”

“She wants to meet you.”

My eyes hold his. “Why?”

“Because she wants to intimidate you and make you feel insecure.” He grabs me by the waist again and drags me to him.

It’s too late, she already has.

“You fought?” I frown. He begins to unfasten my buttons one by one.

“A bit.”

“Did you call her back? Is that why you came to bed late?”

“No.” He concentrates on my buttons. “I stayed up because I was angry, and I didn’t want you to have to see me like that.”

I pull his face to meet mine. “I don’t want you to hide your emotions from me.”

His eyes darken and he puts his hands under the hem of my skirt, lifting it up over my hips. “You want to know what emotion I’m feeling right now?” He sits me up on the counter and slips my high heels off.

I nod, although I have a pretty good idea already.

He kisses me, all suction, all domination, and he lies me back over the counter. With his eyes locked on mine, he pulls my panties to the side and slides two thick fingers deep inside my sex.

“Oh.” My eyes close involuntarily.

He pumps me hard and then lifts my legs up so that my feet are resting up on his chest in front of me. He begins to work me, deep and aggressive, his eyes dark and holding mine.

“You want to know what I’m feeling right now?” he whispers as his hand begins to really work me. My body begins to move on the counter from the force of his hand.

“I’m feeling like I can’t let you go to work looking like that without feeding that beautiful cunt of yours.”

My stomach flips.

God, he’s filthy. “She’s a very hungry girl,” I whisper. “Starving.”

He curls his lip in arousal, and his fingers work me so hard that I wince from the sting.

He unzips his fly, drops his pants and briefs, pulls my panties to the side, and then he lifts my legs over his shoulders and slides in deep.

The sheer size of him takes possession of my body, and I lose all coherent thought. His eyes flicker with a dark arousal.

“Fuck, yeah,” he hisses.

He pulls completely out, and then he uses his hand to bounce his hard cock onto my pubic bone a few times before he slides back in and repeats the delicious movement.

My body ripples around him. The man is a god.

He adds a deep circular movement that makes my eyes roll back in my head.

He pulls completely out again and bounces his cock back onto my pubic bone. When he slides it deep inside me again, my insides melt. What must we look like? Him dressed in a suit and ready for work, me laid out for his pleasure.

That’s what this is: his pleasure, and I’m just the lucky woman who gets to give it to him.

Spencer Jones takes what he needs. He doesn’t care about the rules. When he wants it, he takes it.

This is the best breakfast date ever.

Within moments, he has me arching my back as he fucks me with his thick, weeping cock. I lurch forward, coming hard. I’m going to have bruises from this kitchen counter tomorrow on my spine but I don’t care. Every second of pain is worth it.

He tips his head back, groans, and comes deep inside of me. He closes his eyes as he slowly empties himself, and then he stops and pants, looking down at me the whole time.

He smiles as he licks my ankle and then kisses it tenderly before he slowly pulls out. His eyes drop to my sex and he smirks. He puts his fingers back into my sex and then takes them out, rubbing his fingers across my bottom lip.

He licks his lips and smiles darkly.

“What?” I smirk.

“You look really good all freshly fucked with your legs open like that.” He pushes my hair back from my forehead. “Especially with my come on your lips.”

“You are a filthy bastard, Spencer Jones.”

He chuckles and zips up his pants in one quick movement. “I am, and now I’m a satisfied filthy bastard.”

I wrap my arms around him and we kiss. It’s unrushed and perfect.

“I booked us a weekend away while I stayed up last night,” he says as he looks down at me.

“You did?’

“We’re going to Greece for the weekend, so you’ll have to take Monday off.”

My face falls. “Greece?”

“Uh-huh.” He leaves me and picks up his phone and briefcase.

“But I can’t take Monday off.” I frown, rising up to rest on my elbows.

“You need to.” His eyes drop down my body like he’s hungry for it again.

“What?” I smirk.

“Just taking a photographic picture to remember you by. I’m going to jerk off today to the thought of how hot you are like this.”

“Spencer,” I gasp. “You’re going to jerk off at work?”

“I’ll be in my office bathroom, of course.” He gifts me with a very sexy wink. “You’re the main star of many a lunchtime fantasy.”

I laugh out loud and throw my forearm over my eyes. “You’re an animal,” I huff.

He kisses me softly. “Agreed.” He walks towards the door. “See you tonight, angel.”

I drop my head back and look up at the ceiling. A huge, goofy grin spreads into my cheeks. Holy hell…. I’m in love with a sex maniac.

And he’s taking me to Greece.