CHAPTER EIGHT
“So how are we going to do this?” I ask, standing beside Spencer’s imposing bed but making no moves to get myself under the ruffled covers.
“Like last time.” Spencer’s eyes rake me up and down, but not because he’s checking me out. It’s definitely more him making sure I’m not suffering from shock or an alien abduction.
Whatever the reason, his leering gaze forces my arms over my chest. My lips pinch together, and I look sheepishly at the top of the bed. I’m wearing on one of his long T-shirts—NAVY written in big, bold font across the front—underwear, and a pair of shorts. It’s way more clothing than he’s sporting with his black boxers covered in small four-leaf clovers.
As if the universe needed to give me more signs of him getting lucky tonight.
“We haven’t done this before.” I’m not one of those simpering-virgin types, but a few alcoholic beverages might help. Plus, why did I eat a second helping of fries at dinner? It was stress eating—there’s no other explanation.
Spencer grabs the edge of the covers and throws them back, exposing his black sheets. “Woman, what are you talking about?”
“The sex.”
“The what?” He stops messing with the covers, his hand stalled in midair.
“Sex!”
“Sex?”
“It’s what you do in a bed.” My hand waves frantically back and forth over the king-sized bed like the lunatic he surely believes I am now.
“It’s been a stressful night. I didn’t know that was on the table.”
"I see. Well, normally, that type of activity happens in bed. Doesn’t it?"
Spencer pats his empty side of the bed and then, in one quick movement, flies under the covers, the bottom half of his body disappearing. I'm left with a view of his gorgeous chest as he tucks the sheet tightly around his waist.
I run a hand through my hair to stop it from shaking. "Have you done it in this bed a lot?" He opens his mouth to answer, but I jump back into the conversation. "Don't answer that. I'm a nervous moron." I attempt to laugh off my stupidity, but it sounds more like the Joker on acid.
"How long has it been?"
There's only one thing he could be asking about. I do some quick math in my head and carry a one… "A while."
"It's been a tiring day. I'm not going anywhere, so there’s no need to rush anything with you. Just come here and get some sleep."
Disappointment washes over me, and I forcibly bite my bottom lip to keep it from sticking out. "Okay." I lift the covers back and climb into the empty side, trying to play it cool.
His bed makes the space between our two bodies feel vast and barren. I’m nervous about the whole sex thing, but I was looking forward to it, too. "Could we at least cuddle?"
I wait for Spencer to laugh at my ridiculous request, but he doesn’t. A smile tugs at his lips, crinkling the skin around his eyes. The covers get pulled taunt, and the bed jiggles as he shimmies his body closer to mine.
“Joslin, I will cuddle you all night long, but let’s not call it that. We’ll think of something cooler…manlier.” One of Spencer's arms slides beneath my neck, and the other wraps around my middle from above.
"Good night." He places a small kiss in the place where my neck meets my shoulder and my body shudders.
Casually, I push back into his body. With a deep breath, I gather up all my courage into a little ball in the middle my belly and use it to ask for what I want. "I could go for another one of those."
"Yeah?" Spencer asks but doesn't wait for a reply before he kisses me twice more in the same area. His tongue swirls up my neck and I shiver.
I slide my body back again, this time making full contact. Something pokes me in the middle of my back and I smile. Maybe Spencer is into this more than he let on.
His hand lowers and slips beneath the fabric of my long T-shirt. I tense, waiting to figure out his next move, but Spencer’s hand doesn’t advance. He rubs circles on my upper thigh, never moving higher, even as my insides scream for him to make a move.
Well, more of a move.
With courage and a renewed sense of confidence, I shimmy my lower half against him.
“Joslin, we can wait.” Spencer places another kiss on my neck, his hand moving higher as he asks.
I love hearing him say he has plans to be around longer, but it doesn’t curb my appetite. If anything, the no-pressure approach makes me want him more.
His fingers slip beneath the thin material of my shorts. My thighs tighten with nerves, and my legs clamp together. It's not that I don’t want to do this—I do—but what if I’ve forgotten how? Thatcher and I haven't dated in quite a while. Just as the worry builds to almost incapacitating me, Spencer bites my earlobe and pulls. It's enough pain and pleasure to flip me back into our moment.
The tension in my legs evaporates, and when I moan into the pillow, Spencer seizes the opportunity, slipping his hand between my legs. "You sure about this?"
"Definitely," taking a page from his book, I squeeze my hand between our bodies and palm his dick. Through the material of his boxers, his erection is hard but moves smoothly under my fingers as I stroke him through the thin fabric.
My concentration fades after Spencer slides two fingers inside of me. My hand stills, squeezing twice when the bottom of his palm makes contact with my clit. He doesn't wait for my approval, and sets a quick and punishing pace that has me withering on the bed.
His fingers twist and turn. It doesn't take long until the pressure builds to unbearable points. The tingles start in my legs as I release his dick. I reach up to grab the back of his head and pull on his hair when the orgasm overtakes me.
"Hmmmm." Spencer places a few more kisses on my neck, his tongue trailing over the heated skin between each one. "That was beautiful."
Embarrassed by the gorgeous man getting me off in under two minutes, I squeeze my hands under his boxers in a messy attempt to wiggle them off his legs.
"Wait," his hand stills mine. "I have bad news."
I twist my head back to see his face. “What?” Hundreds—no thousands—of horrible things a man could say after that phrase compete for space in my brain. I’d rather not hear any of them. A ball of dread grows in my stomach, and I bite my lip with worry.
"I swear I'm not feeding you a line, but I don’t have any condoms in the apartment.” He raises my hand from his hip, placing it on the bed. “I’ll pick some up in the morning, and we can do this all over again tomorrow."
"Really?" If his next line is some attempt to get me to have sex without a condom, I’m out of here.
Or worse, maybe he doesn’t want to have sex with me at all.
"I wasn't prepared for this."
"You don't keep condoms in the house?" I ask, my eyes narrowing on his ridiculously handsome face.
He laughs, but it's a nervous sound that makes me believe this isn’t a line at all. "I haven't been here long. There haven’t been a lot of opportunities to meet ladies."
I stare at him for a minute longer with one eye more closed than the other, quietly inspecting his story. When he doesn't push me again, I decide he’s legitimate. "Well, you're in luck because I happen to have some on me."
I dig around the large opening of my purse, on the floor on the side of the bed where I threw it earlier in the evening. There's a reason I carry around a bag bigger than some small dogs. I've got a lot of shit to carry. Important shit. When I roll back over on the bed, the strip of condoms unravels, the six or seven in a strip looking like a Jacob’s ladder as it fills the space from my hands to the covers.
Spencer's eyes widen. "Do you always carry around a box of condoms in your purse?"
My face heats and I shrug. "It's a new development." I leave out the part where Regina bought them for me so when I found a hot, new boyfriend, we could have a night of wild sex—her words, not mine.
"Why?" he asks.
If possible, my cheeks get warmer, and thankfully, most of me is hidden by his oversized T-shirt. “For when I met a guy worthy of using them.”
"I'm choosing to take it as a compliment."
I roll over so our bodies are chest to chest, and Spencer’s lips cover mine before I work out a witty comeback. His fingers get tangled up in the hair I threw into a loose bun. When the kiss deepens and his tongue invades my mouth, his other hand disappears underneath my shirt as his fingers tease one of my nipples.
He rolls the T-shirt up until it's caught underneath my arms and I have to tug it off, the material dropping to the floor beside the bed. His lips leave my mouth, and there isn’t time for me to mourn the loss before they cover a nipple. My body jerks when he sucks, bringing us closer.
His hard dick rubs against my pubic bone, reminding me our lower halves are still way too covered. I fumble with his boxers, this time, successful in getting them off when he lifts his hips and helps.
"Condom." He reaches around, feeling the bed for where I dropped the strip.
There's a crinkle and then a tear as he pulls one off. With firm hands, Spencer pushes on my shoulder until I’m lying on my back; his body looms over mine. I raise my butt and he slowly peels down my underwear, my feet raising in the air, my toes to the ceiling when he’s successful. Spencer stops. His eyes roam over my body like he just unwrapped a Christmas gift.
Still holding my legs in the air by my ankles, Spencer drapes them over one shoulder. One hand lazily traces circles against my skin, up and down my leg, making me thankful I took the time to shave when I showered this morning. Using his teeth, Spencer rips open the condom wrapper and, with one hand, covers his shaft.
He lines our bodies up, and I stare into his eyes as he enters me. I'm stretched further than ever before as he continues to push deeper. I drop a leg from his shoulder, making it easier and, with both my hands, latch on to his forearms, my nails digging into his skin.
Spencer doesn't seem to mind. "You're so tight." He leans closer, short, little kisses shared between us. With a final push, Spencer enters me completely and begins to move, our bodies never fully out of contact.
Our eyes meet, forming a connection. I refuse to look away and break our link. We’re slow, quiet, and passionate. Intimate.
Possibly the closest I've ever been with a man.
His thrusts increase, and I wrap my hands around his neck, ensuring we maintain our level of closeness. My orgasm is a slow and steady build, not quick and overwhelmingly like before. My body gets closer as Spencer changes his motion and our bodies connect exactly where I need. When he lowers a hand between us and uses his fingers to draw circles over my clit, the tension increases faster.
When I come, it's quieter this time, my head thrown back into the pillow, arms bringing him closer with each wave as it flows through my body. Spencer picks up his pace, each of his movements increasing my pleasure until it's almost too much. When he comes to a jittery stop, I loosen my hold from around his neck and allow them to flop down beside me. Spencer takes up a spot beside me, wrapping an arm behind my head and pulling me to his chest. Our breathing slows together as we lay in silence.
Spencer wrestles with the covers, his hand falling over the side of the bed momentarily before he lays down beside me. "I will need…" His words come between ragged breaths. "At least fifteen minutes before we make our way through the rest of the condoms."
I blow a steady stream of air between my lips but don’t object. Who’s complaining about my box of condoms now?