Mr Spencer(152)

“She does know that.”

I watch her dance as my stomach clenches.

Marriage and babies… with Charlotte.

My biggest dream.

My greatest fear.

My true destiny?





Charlotte


Six weeks later


I wake to the feeling of Spencer curled around me from behind, and I turn my head as he kisses my temple.

“Good morning, Mr Spencer.”

I feel him smile against my skin. “Good morning, Miss Prescott.”

“It’s Saturday.” I smile sleepily.

He pulls me closer to his body and I feel his erection up against my hip. “My favourite day of the week. I get you all to myself.” His lips drop to my neck.

I look around the room. “Where’s Greyson?”

“Hmm. Who cares? Probably ripping up the sofa downstairs.”

I giggle.

We hear his little bell, and then something smashes downstairs. “Fucking cat,” Spencer mutters under his breath.

I laugh and climb out of bed. I throw my robe on and go downstairs to investigate. A pot plant has been tipped over and there is dirt everywhere.

“What are you doing?” I whisper to the naughty kitten as he rubs against my legs as if proud of himself.

“Greyson,” I sigh, assessing the damage. Spencer pretends to hate our cat, but I know he secretly loves him. Every time I come in they are snuggled up together on the sofa. I clean up the dirt, make us both a cup of coffee and then head upstairs. I walk into my room to find Spencer in the bathroom at the sink. I place the coffees down on the bedside and walk in to put my arms around him. I glance down his body in the reflection of the mirror, and I see he has an erection.

The man always has an erection.

I smile and reach around to stroke him, and I feel something. “What’s that?”

He turns to me and I look down. He has a red ribbon tied in a bow around his hard dick. “What in the world?” I laugh, this man kills me.

He smirks, with that mischievous look that he does so well. “You better unwrap your present.”

I giggle and bend to take him into my mouth. I begin to untie the bow when I notice a ring on the ribbon.

I frown as I stare at it. It’s a huge solitaire diamond sitting on a rose gold band. My eyes meet his.

“Marry me.”

“W-hat?” I breathe.

“Marry me, Charlotte.” He smiles.

“You tied my engagement ring to your dick and asked me to marry you with your dick in my mouth? Spencer Jones!”

“It was either tied to that or to your butt plug.” He shrugs casually. “And I wanted a story to tell our grandkids.”

I laugh out loud as he pulls me to my feet. “You are the craziest man I know.”

Our lips meet in a kiss. “Marry me, angel.”

Our foreheads touch. “That depends…”

“On what?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” I stroke his dick and widen my eyes. “Things.”

His eyes dance with delight, and he grabs me roughly and slides the ring onto my finger. “I’m asking one more time before I fuck you unconscious. Will you marry me, Charlotte Prescott?”

I kiss his lips with a huge smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now answer the damn question.”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” I grin.

We smile broadly at each other; this proposal is just so Spencer.

“Good. Now get on your knees and finish what you started.”





Five years later


It’s 11:00 p.m. and I’m watching my beautiful man walking around the living room with our daughter in his arms as he tries to console her. Amelia is eighteen months old, teething, and in a world of pain.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay, daddy’s here.”

If you thought Spencer Jones was swoony before, you should see him with a daughter. He worships the ground she walks upon.

I’m heavily pregnant with our second child, sprawled on the sofa, defeated by exhaustion. It’s been a long week.

This teething thing is tough. We’ve had no more than three hours sleep on any given night… and it’s about to get tougher.

“Babe,” I whisper.

“Yeah, angel.” He sits down on the couch at my feet. “Look how tired mummy is,” he says to Amelia as he rubs my feet.

“I’m having contractions.”

His face falls. “What?”

I nod.

“Now?”

“Uh-huh.”

He looks at me, deadpan, and he rushes to sit on the floor beside me, watching me for a moment.

“Lie to me,” he whispers. “Give me something to hang onto here.”

I smile softly. It’s such a Spencer thing to say. I reach up and run my fingers through his stubble. “We are on a yacht, sailing around the Caribbean.”

He smirks. “Yes.”

“And I’m wearing nothing but a gold string bikini.”

He leans forward and runs his fingers through my hair. “God, this sounds so good.”

“We’ve been having crazy sex all day,” I whisper.

“Yeah I like it. What am I doing now?”