When we get outside of the back of Club X to avoid the paparazzi, Spencer turns to me. “This night is almost as fucking gorgeous as you are. We’re walking.”
“Bossy, but I’ll take it.” My lips part into a huge smile. I can think of nothing more perfect than walking with this man.
The fresh air breezes through my hair, sheltering me from his penetrating stare, and I melt on the spot when he grabs my hand, holding it in his. We walk, taking in the sights and just enjoying the night, not needing to say anything to fill the space.
“Sorry about leaving this morning,” Spencer says, breaking the silence.
“You had work to do. I understand that.” I did. I understood working hard. The need to be successful. The hunger he felt . . . I felt it too. The hole in need of feeling . . . I had it too. In my mind. In my heart. In my stomach.
“I did, but I want you to know how hard it was to leave.”
I turn to him, narrowing my eyes. “You barely know me. It couldn’t have been too hard.”
He smirks at my words, a small dimple forming in his cheek. He looks devastatingly handsome. The small dimple makes me melt. Was it always there? How have I missed it?
“True, but it was.”
Small butterflies start to swarm in my belly at his words and I squeeze his hand, silently thanking him for them. “I’ll admit I was a bit disappointed.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” I laugh. “I wanted to say goodbye.”
“You didn’t want to get my number?” He raises a brow.
“No, I don’t need it. I’m not under any illusion that this is going to be something more. I just wanted to kiss you one last time.” I drop my head in embarrassment at my admission.
Spencer stops us, turning me to him. Without saying a word, he drops my hand and brings it up to my head, cupping my cheeks in his hands. His thumb caresses my skin, sending more butterflies flying in my abdomen. Our eyes pierce each other’s, and he finally leans down, capturing my mouth. I sigh into his kiss, feeling light-headed and blissful. His mouth is tender yet firm. It’s the best kiss I’ve ever had and I never want to leave this moment. Here we are in London under twinkling lights, with no cares in the world at this very minute.
“Olivia,” he breathes my name into my neck. A silent invitation in his tone.
“Yes.”
The rest of the walk back is a complete blur. Each street we pass, each piece of exquisite architecture is lost on me. I’m completely consumed by the feel of his hand against the small of my back. The presence of his body next to mine. The small circles his fingers caress into the silk of my dress. I can barely speak. All I can think about is feeling his lips again, the way his mouth tastes . . .
Over and over again everything from the previous night plays in my head. Like a record on repeat, one I hope will never end.
We’re barely inside the door before he pounces. He pushes me against the wall, my back hitting the hard surface causing the air to escape my lungs. It doesn’t hurt, though. It’s exactly what I need. His desperation is thrilling. Better than any drink or drug.
His arms wrap around me and in one quick pull, our skins touch. He begins to grab at my waist, pulling us even closer, fusing us together while he captures my mouth. His kiss is long and passionate. Hungry and promising.
It tells of desire and need.
He doesn’t stop kissing me as both of his hands work to undress me. He pulls the straps away from my shoulders and down my arms until it falls in a heap on the floor. My breasts are free and I stand completely naked against his body, my bare skin rubbing against his clothes.
His pupils dilate.
“Fuck,” he growls as his gaze scans my body. His hand reaches out, my breasts large and full in his hands. He pulls at each nipple. “This whole time. The whole walk . . .” he grits out, pulling and kneading on the sensitive skin. “You were naked under your clothes. Do you ever wear underwear, Olivia? Or are you always ready?”
“Panty lines,” I pant back. Not able to say more. I’m too lost in the intensity of his touch on my bare skin.
“I could have fucked you anywhere. Did you want that? Were you ready for me?” He pulls his hand away and skims down my body, finding me hot and ready for him. “Fuck, you were.” His fingers part me. “Is that what you wanted? Did you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to fuck you now?”
“God, yes,” I moan against his chest as he thrusts a finger inside me.
“So wet. So ready.”
He picks up the pace of his ministrations. My chest begins to heave and I let out a sharp intake of breath as he bends down and places the tip of my breast into his mouth sucking and latching hard onto my nipple. A moan escapes my mouth as he continues licking and thrusting at the same time. The two sensations overwhelm me, setting me ablaze.
I’m on fire.
Every inch of me ready to combust.
“I want to feast on you,” he mutters, his head still buried against the skin of my chest. “And then I want to fuck you against the wall. And when I’m done, I want to fuck you on every other surface of this room. Tell me you want that?”
“Yes,” I whimper, my head thrown back in the throes of passion. My body starts to tighten around his fingers.
“No.” He halts his movements, and I whimper a protest. “I want to feel you come apart around me.”
He pulls his hand away, and I can hear him reach into his back pocket. My eyes watch with desperation as he pulls a condom out. His movements are hurried as he rips it open, sheathing himself. “Fuck,” he groans as he presses all the way to the hilt inside of me. “Too good. You feel too good.” He pulls out and then thrusts back in.
“God, yes. Right there,” I pant, drunk on him, drunk and high off the feeling of him inside me again. My words fuel him as he picks up his pace. Fucking me harder. Deeper. The penetration and angle are too much. My body begins to quiver and quake, and as it tightens around him, he burrows his head in my shoulder, biting down on my skin as he trembles inside me.
We stay up against the wall for a minute, allowing us to come down from our high. My legs shake uncontrollably as I try to regulate my breathing. He kisses the skin on my neck, and then out of nowhere, brackets his arms around me and throws me over his shoulder.
“I’m not done with you.” He steps away from the wall. “I never did get a taste.” We head straight toward the bed.
“Stay,” he orders, throwing me down as he leaves me on the bed and goes to the bathroom to discard the condom. He returns with a hunger in his eyes that spreads a chill up my body. Without preamble, Spencer spreads my legs apart and crawls on the bed. He angles his body between them and kisses his way up my leg. Closing my eyes, I wait.
His breath grazes me.
I squirm under his perusal.
“Patience.” His tongue darts out and licks me so lightly I fear I might have imagined it. I buck, my hips lifting to demand more. “Shhh. I got you,” he coos and I whimper as I wait. It feels like forever, the thud of my heart counting the seconds until he gives me what I need. What I’m so desperate for.
With slow, steady moves, he swipes his tongue along my slit from bottom to top. It’s perfection. Utter perfection the feel of his mouth on me.
“You taste delicious. Like the sweetest fucking dessert I’ve ever had.” Spencer continues his assault on my senses. It’s too much and not nearly enough. I need him inside me again.
“Inside me,” I beg. “Please.”
Pulling away, he looks down at me and I look up at him through hooded lids. My vision drops as I see him fist himself in his hand and start pulling himself from root to tip. While I watch him touch himself, he thrusts his fingers inside me until I’m primed for the taking. After two more thrusts of his fingers, he pulls away and reaches for a condom, the whole time still fisting himself. He rolls the condom on and with his free hand, he spreads my legs farther apart, crawling up my body and placing himself at my entrance. I bite my lip in anticipation and then with one quick thrust of his hips, he’s fully seated.
His movements pause, allowing me to adjust to the sudden invasion. Once I am, he pulls out and then he slams back in. Then pulls out again and slams back in. Spencer keeps up that pace. Dragging in and out.
Over and over again.
At first he’s slow, but as my nails wrack the skin of his back he begins to fuck me harder. He pulls out again, but this time he doesn’t thrust back in. Instead, he hovers over me, leaving me vacant until I moan with need. His own breath comes out in ragged spurts. The anticipation of his next thrust drives us both insane. When I think neither one of us can take another minute of this sweet torture, he starts the pattern all over again, and again, and again.
In and out.
In and out.
The sounds of the headboard banging against the wall, of our bodies moving together and our breathing has me falling over the edge. Blurred vision, hammering heart, everything inside of me shudders.
“Fuck . . .” he screams into the skin of my neck as his body tenses and then releases.
We lie in bed next to each other, sated and spent of energy. Sex with Spencer is like nothing I’ve experienced before. He’s passionate, generous, and most of all . . . skilled.
“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Spencer asks, drawing me into his side possessively. Not in a way a lover would, but an owner. I like this. With him, I like feeling small.
“Nothing,” I lie, not wanting to ruin the moment. I only want to bask in it for as long as I can before this perfect dream fades away and I have to return to reality.
“You seem to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
I turn my head toward him. “Very perceptive of you. But what about you?” I ask, trying hard to change the subject.
“What do you mean?” He feigns ignorance, but the twitch in his cheek gives him away.
“Tonight. You came stalking into the club and you didn’t look happy.” I pause, contemplating my next words. “What happened?”
He rakes his hand through his unruly hair and sighs. “Family business.”
“That’s vague.”
“My brother. He’s fucking up left and right and I just happened to be in the same city as him this time. Something needed to be done.”
“Yeah, Pierce was out of control tonight,” I say before I can stop myself.
Spencer stiffens next to me. Shit. “You know my brother?” he frowns. His tone doesn’t give away his feelings. I can’t tell if he’s upset about the revelation.
“I just met him tonight.”
“You know who I am then.” It isn’t a question, so I don’t answer.
“I’ve known since the first night who you were,” I say in a neutral voice. It’s true. No reason to lie.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” The furrow on his brow shows his concern.
“I didn’t find it important.” I shrug. “We were keeping things no strings, and so I thought it didn’t need to be discussed.”
“You didn’t try to find me after I left you.”
“Why would I? We didn’t even exchange names that first night.”
“But you knew who I was.”
“And?”
At this, he rolls me on top of him so we are face-to-face. “I’m a very wealthy man, Olivia.”
I scrunch my nose in distaste. “So? Why the hell does that matter?”
“You don’t care?”
“No, not really,” I say, trying to get off him, but he just pulls me closer to him.
“I like how easy this is.”
“I like you. I have fun with you. Why should it matter how much money you have?”
“Wow. You’re something else, Olivia.”
I raise my brow in challenge. “And what might that be?”
“Different.”
The sincerity in his eyes melts all the tension away, replaced by want. I don’t care if this is just for one more day. I’ll take it. He makes me feel special, and that’s something I haven’t felt in a long time. Every second I spend with Spencer Lancaster I come dangerously close to falling head first in love with him. I thank my lucky stars that he leaves today. It’s what’s best, because if this continued and ended badly, I don’t think I’d survive it.
“I’m not different.” If I were different, it wouldn’t have been so easy for him to have left me that first night. Even now, it’s only a matter of time before he goes.
He narrows his eyes. “Are you doing that girl thing where you disagree just so I’ll tell you again?”
I chuckle. “No. I don’t need you to say anything to me. This is sex, Spencer.”
Small lines form on his brow. “It might be sex, but I’m serious, Olivia. You are different and you’re gorgeous too.”
I smile.
“That smile is your best feature. You should do it more often.”
I smack his chest. “I do smile.”
He flips me over so he’s on top. “Since we have the smile down, let’s work on some other things.”
“Like?”
He leans down, kissing me hungrily. I know where this is going, and I’m happy to work on that all day if he’ll allow. He groans after a few minutes and pulls away.
“As much as I’d like to stay here in bed all day, I have work to do.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“What do you have going on for the next two weeks?” Spencer asks.
“Nothing. I was considering heading home to the States, but there isn’t anything pressing.” Other than my funds drying up and having to dip into my savings or worse, needing to crawl back to my parents for money.
“I have to head to Marseille this week and Barcelona the week after that. I’m looking at properties to potentially develop Lancaster Hotels on.”
My teeth bite down on my lower lip, my heart breaking just a bit knowing our time is ending.
“Would you like to accompany me?”
I stop breathing for a second. Wondering if I heard him right. “What?” I scrunch my nose in confusion.
“Travel with me,” he clarifies.
“Wouldn’t that be a bit much?”
“I’m not asking you to marry me.” He chuckles. “I just thought that while I’m still in Europe, and you’re still in Europe, perhaps we could tour Europe together.” He shrugs.
I search his face and find nothing. “Just Europe?” I narrow my eyes.
“Just Europe.” He grins.
“Let’s do it.”