Mr Spencer(51)

My insides melt and I close my eyes. “You see what?” I ask. “What were you going to say?”

“I’m wondering what’s so different with you. Why does my heart race when you look at me?” He breathes against my skin.

I smile and look up at the ceiling as his mouth slowly caresses my neck.

“I’m wondering why the fuck you make me so nervous, like nobody ever has before.”

He nips me with his teeth, and I flinch.

“I’m wondering how just the sound of your voice over the phone can make my cock so hard that it weeps.”

I whimper as his lips begin to assault my neck with more force. His hands have now dropped to my arse.

“So many mysteries,” I whisper, trying to control my breathing.

“You’re the eighth wonder of the world.” He chuckles, moving his kisses to my shoulder before he trails his tongue across the skin there.

“Why do you lick me like that?” I ask, breathless.

He lifts his eyes to mine and cups my cheeks. “Because I need to taste you.”

My stomach clenches. “When you say things like that… it does things to me.”

“What things?”

“Strange things that make me feel my pulse where I’ve never felt it before.”

With his dark eyes locked on mine, he trails his fingers down my face, down over my breasts, and then lower.

“Here?” he whispers as he gently rubs his fingers over my sex through my dress. “Do you feel your pulse here?”

I nod, my erratic breathing ragged, desperate to suck in precious air.

He leans closer, his mouth at my ear, his breaths dusting my skin. “I want you to feel my pulse here.” He grabs my sex aggressively, and he hisses sharply. My legs nearly buckle.

I pull out of his arms and step back, panting wildly. Fear takes over.

What the hell? This is too much. Too… full on.

I don’t think I can do this.

A frown creases his brows. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, angel.”

My eyes search his. I shrug weakly, ashamed that he can sense it.

With a shaky hand, I sip my champagne.

He shifts around uncomfortable, turning his attention to the apartment. “This… this is a nice place.”

“I-it is…”

He takes a seat at the kitchen counter and refills his glass. “Top up?” he asks casually.

I nod and pass him my glass.

We stare at each other as we drink again, and it feels like he’s choosing his next words carefully because I simply don’t know what to say.

“We can just take it slow.” He shakes his head. “I don’t mean to rush you. I’m just so damn attracted to you that I can’t help myself.”

“It’s okay, Spence.” I pause, taking a moment to compose myself. “I’m attracted to you, too. It’s just… this is new for me. I’m sorry,” I whisper shamefully.

He leans over and kisses me again, as if he’s unable to help it, and then he runs his hand up my thigh.

“Ouch.” He winces. The crystals on my dress are sharp. “This dress is like a beautiful, yet very lethal crustacean.”

My mouth falls open. “A crustacean?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, you know… a soft little thing in a very hard shell. All lethal like a sea anen—” He pauses and tries again. “A sea amen-emey.”

I laugh.

“A sea anemone.” He laughs, too. “Fuck, that’s a hard word to say.”

“You sound like something from Finding Nemo.”

“What a great movie that was.”

“A classic.” I smile at him trying to lighten the subject. I love that he’s trying to ease my fears.

He takes a sip of his drink. “Dory was my favourite—by far the best actor of all time.”

I giggle. This is the last thing I thought he would talk about. “Mine, too.”

“I’ve watched this movie many times over the years at Masters’ house with Willow and Samuel. I think Sebastian knows every word of it by heart.” He drinks again and then scowls softly. “What was the kid’s name, again?”

My eyes widen. “You did not just say that.”

His grin is full of mischief.

“Nemo. The kid’s name is Nemo, Spencer.”

“Oh.” He laughs out loud, and raises his eyebrows in embarrassment. “Right.”

We both smile as we sip our champagne, our eyes lingering on each other’s. He takes his black dinner jacket off and hangs it over the back of one of the stools, loosening his bow tie in the process, too. Watching him do that feels strangely sexual. Spencer steps forward again, and the two of us embrace to kiss softly. It’s not a passionate kiss like before. It’s an affectionate kiss, one that feels natural, comfortable, just right.

“Can you answer a question for me, Charlotte?” he asks as he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“Yes.”

“Why do I feel like I know you?”

“I could ask you the same thing. I feel a familiarity with you that shouldn’t be there.”

He runs his hand up my leg again. “Ouch.” He shakes his hand. “This dress is fucking lethal. It has its own built-in security system. Did Edward buy it for you?”