Mr Spencer(73)

Oh, he’s just so…

“Thank you,” I murmur, distracted by the feel of his tongue on my skin.

“Maybe we should stay home and eat English instead,” he whispers darkly.

My insides melt. He means he wants me to eat him instead.

I lean forward and take his face in my hands. I kiss him, softly at first, then deeper. I kiss him with everything I have because, damn, he makes me feel everything.

Spencer inhales sharply, his hands coming around to my behind. “Don’t kiss me like that, angel, not unless you want to be flat on your back with your legs over my shoulders within the next thirty seconds.”

I giggle against his lips. “So romantic, Mr Spencer.”

He chuckles as he holds me close. “Four nights,” he murmurs into my hair.

“What?” I frown.

“This is the fourth night in a row that we’ve seen each other.”

“You say that like it’s a rarity for you.” I smirk.

“It is. I’ve never seen a woman four nights in a row before.”

I smile up at him and straighten his tie. “I guess I’d better make this a perfect date for you then, hadn’t I?”

His eyes twinkle with something I haven’t seen before. “You just have to turn up for my night to be perfect.”

We stare at each other and something runs between us. I don’t know what it is exactly. Affection? Closeness? Electricity? Love?

I lean up and kiss his big soft lips. “You make me happy, Spencer Jones,” I whisper.

He grins brightly, almost looking bashful. It makes my heart melt.

“Do you want to go eat some Italian now?”

“What about eating my English?” I smirk.

“Oh.” He chuckles. “It’s your English now, is it?” He grabs my behind and pulls me against his erection.

“Yes, you’re my English. And no to that. We’re going out.” I take him by the hand and lead him to the door. He tries to grab my behind and I swat him away. “We are going out, Spence,” I repeat.

He laughs. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Italian it is.”





*



Four hours later and I am being twirled around the dance floor while smiling dreamily up at my gorgeous date.

We’ve talked, laughed, and eaten. It’s really surprising how well we actually get along. Even without the crazy attraction and mind-blowing sex, we have something special going on between us.

“I told Sarah about us today,” I admit.

He smirks down at me and raises his eyebrow. “And what did you tell her, exactly?”

One of my hands is resting in his, while his other hand is resting on my hip. As usual, we’re the only ones on the dance floor. I love how he doesn’t care if anyone else is dancing. I think he likes it because he gets to hold me in his arms.

“I told her I was seeing you… casually.”

“Oh?” His eyes hold mine as he waits for me to elaborate.

“Although there was that thing you said yesterday.”

He spins me. “What thing?”

I hesitate. “When you told Wyatt and Anthony that I was your girlfriend.”

He frowns. “I did, didn’t I?”

I smile goofily up at him. “Uh-huh.”

“What possessed me to say that?”

“At a guess, I would think that if you told my bodyguards you were my boyfriend, it was probably because you didn’t want me to see anybody else.”

“Really?” He smirks.

I nod. “Uh-huh.”

“Do you want to see other men?” he asks.

“No.” I frown. “Do you want to see others?”

“What would happen if I did?”

I stop dancing. “Then I would leave you to it!” I snap, annoyed. “I don’t share, Spencer.”

He laughs as he pulls me closer. “Are you getting possessive of me, Prescott?” I pull out of his arms, but he brings me right back to him. “I’m joking with you.” He leans down and whispers in my ear, “I don’t want to see anybody but you.”

“That wasn’t funny,” I whisper back.

I feel him smile above me as he holds me close.

“What is this?” I ask.

“What’s what?”

“This,” I murmur. “Between us. What is it?”

He smiles down and me and then kisses me softly. “I don’t know, but it’s fucking good.”

I smirk, mollified for the moment, and we continue to sway to the music.

“Maybe we should try this boyfriend girlfriend thing,” he finally says.

I press my lips together to hide my smile. “Are you sure? I’ll be a high maintenance girlfriend. I’m not entirely sure if you’re up to the job.”

He spins me as he chuckles. “No?”

“I’ll need lots of massages with oil, and...” I exhale heavily. “There’s the whole teaching me about sex thing. That’s a full-time job in itself.”

He smiles mischievously.

“And my family are a nightmare,” I add.

“I don’t want to date your family.”

“And I’m setting up my own business soon, so I’ll be working a lot.”