“Have you noticed that it’s not taking you as long to get used to me inside you when we start?”

I sat up, leaving the warmth of his chest to prop myself up on my elbow. “I know you’ve only been officially gay for a little over a month now, but let me fill you in; you never allude to your boyfriend being loose. You try getting fucked this many times every week.” I reached down and lightly smacked his recently used cock. “Besides, it’s your fault. Maybe if you were smaller.” I shook my head. “Never mind. Forget I even suggested that. I am not requesting smaller.”

 Spencer chuckled, looking pleased and a little proud of himself. If he weren’t so damn sexy, it would almost be annoying. “Well, maybe it’s time to give that tight, tight ass of yours a break.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Too late to try to make up for it now. You already let me know you’re dissatisfied with the product.”

He chuckled harder and started to protest, but the meaning of his words clarified suddenly.

“Wait a minute. You want to give my ass a break? As in… you want to try…?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He lifted his head from the pillow, glanced down between us, and then grinned back up at me. “Seems like you like that idea. And you’re just as thick as I am, so I’ll be loose as you are in a few weeks.”

My erection sprang back to life. “Hell yes, I like that idea! You know that I’m ready for that whenever you are, but there’s no rush. But as soon—” I replayed his words “—wait a minute. You just called me loose again.”

He howled in laughter. And after a moment or two, I couldn’t help but join in. I settled back onto his chest, running my hands over his rippling muscles. I was never going to get bored of doing that. I had to readjust my ear. “I’m glad you’re letting your chest hair grow back in, though you’re sexy either way, but this prickly stage is a little awkward.”

“And itchy. It’s not too bad like this, especially when you’re distracting me with sex, but trying to focus in the courtroom while I’m wearing a suit and wanting to scratch every square inch of skin off is torture.” He stroked my hair and then began tracing my ear. “I’m dreading going back into the office tomorrow, but maybe after this weekend, the suit won’t feel quite so miserable.”

“At least you get out of Lavender Shores for several hours. I feel like I’m waiting for the whole place to self-combust now that Erica knows.”

Spencer was silent for several moments. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he didn’t quit stroking my ear. “She didn’t call you back?”

I shook my head, forgetting about his prickly chest, then had to reposition another time. Spencer had asked me not to call her after he and I had gotten off the phone the night before. I’d called her a few times throughout the morning while Spencer still had Ethan and Emma, but she never picked up. “The only thing I’ve heard from her was that text saying that she hated me and to leave her alone, but you saw that already.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t regret a moment with Spencer, and I wasn’t about to pull away.

As much as I wanted to lay in bed with him, and as excited as he’d made me at the prospect of getting to be inside him, the mood had changed. Worrying about my relationship with my sister was a sex killer.

Swinging my legs over the bed, I stood and started to pull on my pants. “How about we grab dinner?” A new thought brightened my mood. Maybe it was too much to ask, but it sounded wonderful. I turned back to Spencer, once more caught by the sight of him naked in my bed. Perhaps I could get the mood back, find a way to make the night special for his first time. I pushed that away, returning to my original thought. “Maybe this is selfish, as I know you have to drive back down to San Francisco tomorrow morning, but the evening is early. How do you feel about driving there now and grabbing dinner? It could be a real date. You know, the kind where we actually get to hold hands in public. Where I don’t feel like I’m supposed to call you bro to throw people off. We haven’t had one of those in over a week.” Then I had another thought. We could combine the two, date and Spencer’s first time. “Oh! Better idea. How about we take two cars, get a nice hotel room. Make a full night out of it. Then you could sleep in tomorrow morning, and I’ll wake up early and drive back here for work.”

He sat up, beaming. “I could read that thought. Sign me up.”

“What thought?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “The one where you thought about what you’re going to do to my ass once we’re there.”

I hesitated but couldn’t suppress the hope in my voice. “Only if you’re ready.”

“I’m ready. I am so, so ready.”

I crawled back on the bed, pushed my lips to his, and ran my hands over his body, then gave his dick stroke, all previous concerns forgotten for the moment. “God, I want you.”

He began to stiffen. “You’d better stop, or I won’t wait until the hotel to get you inside of me.”

Suddenly that was completely okay. I kissed him again, tightening my grasp around him.

There was a knock on the door.

I ignored it, my fervor igniting as we kissed.

There was another knock.

We ignored that as well. After a few moments, I trusted that they were gone. I broke the kiss and lowered my mouth to his cock.

There was a third knock. Louder this time.

Spencer groaned and pulled away. “I don’t think they’re going to leave.”

Whoever it was, I hated them. It was a good thing I was a pacifist and didn’t own a gun. I crawled backward off the bed, readjusting myself in my pants, and reached for my shirt. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

I hurried through the house, paused at the front door to make sure my hard-on couldn’t be seen, then looked through the peephole. Ten gallons of ice water could’ve poured over me and not been any more effective at removing any trace of my arousal. Spinning, I rushed back through the house and popped my head into the bedroom.

“Get your clothes on Spencer. It’s my dad.”

It seemed Spencer had the exact same reaction. And I wondered if I was as pale as he suddenly was. “Oh shit.”

“Exactly.”

The fourth time, Dad began to pound. And forty-two or not, I rushed back, knowing keeping him waiting would only make matters worse. I threw open the door.

He glared but stepped inside. Dad was nearly eighty, but in amazing condition, and still classically handsome. Enough that people often said he’d cut a deal with the devil. Knowing my father, I wouldn’t put it past him.

I closed the door behind him. At the sight of his suit, my irritation spiked. I knew this game. And it was already pissing me off. Like he was going to pull this shit with me, like I didn’t know him. Still, I considered what I was going to say so I didn’t add fuel to the flames.

He didn’t give me the chance. “Where is he? His damn car is outside. In broad daylight. Might as well talk to the both of you together.” He marched through to the living room, as if he knew Spencer was in the bedroom.

“He’s getting dressed. Give him a moment.” I had to admit, I was impressed with myself. My voice neither quavered nor sounded threatening.

Dad halted and turned slowly to glare at me again. “Getting dressed? So you’re not even going to pretend?”

“Pretend? You came here hoping that I would lie to you?” All right, even I could hear the taunting in my tone in that one.

“I was hoping my eldest son would have some dignity.”

I scoffed, unable to help myself. “Dignity? So you’re depending on my mother’s genes to take over, then?”

He took a step toward me.

“Mr. Epstein.” Spencer strode into the room, and I could see why he was a lawyer and I was a therapist. Granted, I’d had no warning, but Spencer hadn’t had more than a minute of it himself. And yet, he’d managed to stuff himself into jeans, shirt, shoes, and topped it all off with the blazer. If I wasn’t in love with the fucker, I would’ve hated him for it. At least one of us was on similar footing with my dad’s game.

My father sneered. “Mr. Epstein, indeed. Did you forget that’s your last name as well? Or were you hoping to become a Carlisle too? Working your way through all the founding families of Lavender Shores by way of my children? I didn’t know you were so ambitious.”

Once again proving he’d chosen the right career, Spencer’s voice was calm, serpent-smooth, and held no trace of emotion. “No disrespect meant, sir, but my ambitions have always been a little higher than those in Lavender Shores. Which I’m sure you recall from our first conversation when you tried to entice me to leave the firm.”

I flinched and gaped at Spencer. I had no idea what he was talking about.

Obviously my father did. “You’ve always had limited vision. You were never good enough for my daughter.” He turned toward me. “I also would’ve said he wasn’t good enough for my son, but apparently I don’t know my own child that well. I never would’ve dreamed you’d sink so low. That you would do such harm to your own family.”

Despite his bravado, that insult stuck and cut deep. As truth always does. “You know I’d never set out to hurt Erica. Ever.”

He waved me off. “Erica! Don’t be an idiot. She’ll be over this in two minutes and onto the next moron. Probably pick an even worse one than this jackass”—he motioned toward Spencer—“if the waste of space she left him for is any indication.” He closed the distance between us, punctuating each word by shoving his finger toward my face. “I am not concerned about your sister’s feelings, Donovan. I am concerned with you dragging our name through the mud.” He motioned toward Spencer once more and then returned to jabbing his finger in my direction. “That traitor is an Epstein. Your sister is an Epstein. You are a Carlisle. I am both. And you are a disgrace to every member of both families.”

Behind him, I could see Spencer start to walk toward us, but I shook my head. Rage coursed through me. I took a step toward him, close enough that his finger could have struck me in the eye if he’d have chosen. “You mean to tell me that you’re not mad at me because of Erica? That you’re not here to defend your only daughter? The one you proclaim to be your princess every time you make a public appearance? Her feelings mean nothing?”

He laughed in disgust and shook his head. “You’re the one fucking her husband, son. You’re in no place to judge how I treat Erica. So don’t pretend to take the high road where she’s concerned.”

He sickened me. And for some reason, even though so many years should’ve taught me what to expect, the realization stung all over again. “So the only reason you’re here is because I might involve the Epstein and Carlisle names in a scandal, correct? That’s truly why you’re here right now?”

“The damage is probably already done, Donovan, but it’s not too late to fix it. End this stupid affair, and Spencer can get back together with Erica, or better yet, he can just get the hell out of town. You have family to put first. Go find some other piece of ass. Hell, choose one of those Bryant boys. A subpar founding family to be sure but better than the crap you’re doing now.”

“You’re unbelievable. You are completely unbelievable.” My anger left me suddenly, like it’d been a blanket and someone had yanked it from me. I moved away from him, walked across the room, and perched on the arm of the sofa. “You have had two affairs, three marriages. Mom was pregnant with Shawn when you knocked up Kimberly Epstein—”

“Watch your tongue about my wife, boy!”

I stood once more, bringing myself to my full height and straightening my shoulders. I was done letting him have the upper hand. “You’re the scandal of the Carlisle and Epstein families. You always have been. You abandoned your wife and two sons because you found someone new who was pretty and young.”

“I never abandoned you or your brother.”

“No, not in the truest sense. But you used us as your little Carlisle trophies to parade around town whenever you wanted to remind someone of your maiden name. That’s all we ever were to—” What the hell was I doing? Talk about rehashing the past. Diving into things that I’d worked through in therapy years ago, or at least thought I had. I wasn’t going to do this; there was nothing to be gained by any of it. “You need to leave my house, Dad. Spencer and I are together. That isn’t going to change. And you better get used to it because it’s going to be public knowledge soon.”

He began to sputter, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“I’m serious. Leave. You’re not welcome here until you can prove that you care about your children beyond their last name. And you can start by going over to Erica’s and letting her cry on your shoulder.”

“I care for my children. Just because you—”

I slipped my arm around his shoulders and angled him toward the door. I couldn’t tell if he resisted and was weaker than I thought or if he simply went willingly. Whatever it was, he quit talking. Even waited as I unlocked the door and opened it.

He walked through but turned around. “You need to rethink this, Donovan. This isn’t going—”

“Goodbye, Dad.” I shut the door and twisted the lock.

I turned to face Spencer, who stood frozen several feet away. Both of us waited for my father to start pounding on the door again. He didn’t. After nearly a minute, I let out a breath.

Spencer hurried over. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I think so. I’m sorry Dad said all that shit about you. He’s—”

“Come on.” He chuckled darkly. “Like your dad said, I’m part of the family. I know the ins and outs of it by now.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, I guess you do.”

“Have to say, though, even after all this time, I still don’t get the Lavender Shores founding family thing. Nobody outside the town cares. Hell, half the people in Lavender Shores don’t care about it anymore either.”

“That’s because this half of Lavender Shores are all members of the founding families. So, we care. Or at least we’re supposed to.” I suddenly remembered our plans for the evening, and regret and exhaustion poured over me. Maybe I was sad about my father in there somewhere too, but if so, that was something to process another day. He’d taken enough of my attention. “Do you mind if we don’t go to San Francisco after all? And I really don’t want your first time to be preceded by anything to do with my father.”

“I’m with you on that. He doesn’t inspire romantic feelings to say the least.” Spencer put his arms around my waist and kissed me lightly. “How about an early evening? Food, couch, TV?”

“That sounds a little bit like heaven.” So simple, so normal. So beyond what I’d dared to hope for with Spencer. “Reruns of Frasier?”

“Oh my God, I forgot you liked that show.”

“Hey. It’s funny, and it’s about a therapist. A therapist who needs a therapist. Several.” Maybe they’d designed the show after me.

“Sure, Niles and that dog are a hoot. Let me get out of these clothes.” Spencer gave me another quick kiss before pulling away. “You know, I have a recording of Cats at my place. I can run and get it. I seem to recall you need some convincing about its merit.”

“I don’t think you’re that good of a lawyer.”

He chuffed. “Well, now my reputation is on the line.” Instead of returning to the bedroom to change, he switched directions and headed to the door. “I’m gonna go get it. You’ll see. And feel free to start cooking dinner. That’s what you get for insulting the best musical in the world while questioning my skills.” With a wink, he was gone.

I was going to spend the night watching a subpar, totally weird musical. And I felt a little giddy about it.

I really did need more than one therapist. Maybe we could end with an episode of Frasier after all.