“We’re just friends, I promise.” She glances over at Alexander who is talking to a group of people, while we are shielded from the crowd. “You and Alex don’t get along?” She makes it sound like a statement and a question.
“Not at all. It started with work a few years back. Since then, we’ve had a few run-ins with each other over the years. He doesn’t get on with Masters or Seb, either.”
“Masters?”
“Julian. His last name is Masters. He had a run in with Alex at work, too.”
“What does Julian do?”
“He’s a judge.”
“Oh.” She frowns.
“He will warn you away from me, no doubt,” I mutter into my drink. “Apparently I’m the devil.” I raise my eyebrow in a silent dare.
Defend him to me. See what happens.
She stares at me for a moment, and I have no idea what she’s thinking.
Have I misjudged this whole thing with us?
“We haven’t spoken about you at all,” she tells me.
My eyes hold hers and I know that she’s lying. He did warn her away from me, and God, I would like to rearrange his face for his efforts. Unfortunately, I’m a lover not a fighter.
What I should do is let my friend Joshua Stanton take care of him instead. Joshua cage fights… for fun. That bastard is mean as shit.
“I’d like to see you alone.”
Her eyes hold mine. “I’d like that, too.”
“I can come to you. Tonight?” I offer.
She frowns again, her mind going into overdrive.
“Give me a key to your room, Charlotte. I’ll wait for your guards to leave and sneak in. They won’t even know I’ve been. We can have coffee and dessert.” I shrug. “We can just talk…”
Her chest rises and falls heavily.
I can almost hear her brain ticking.
She glances over to the side of the ballroom, and I follow her gaze, only to see Wyatt standing silently, his back against the wall. I hadn’t even noticed him, I was too preoccupied with York.
“They will see me give you the key,” she whispers. “And how will I get into my room when I get home?”
“Leave the key somewhere here for me to pick up without being seen, and then just ask them for another key at reception when you get there. Tell them you left it in the room.”
“Where?”
I think for a moment. “Go out the foyer. There’s a storeroom. Just text me to tell me where you leave it.”
Her eyes hold mine as she swallows a lump in her throat.
I link our pinky fingers again. “I need to see you alone,” I whisper. “And this is the only way we will get any privacy.”
Charlotte licks her lips. “Okay?” She nods softly, not saying another word before she heads off in the direction of the foyer.
I turn and order my drink, elation filling me.
Finally.
*
I clutch the key in my pocket and casually stroll through the grand foyer of the Four Seasons. Charlotte left the function an hour ago, but she’s only just text me to give me the all clear.
Don’t get caught, don’t get caught, I remind myself.
I don’t really care if I get caught, but not getting to see her if I do has me worried.
I’m having trouble walking to her… I want to run.
Fast.
I get into the elevator and scan the key. The penthouse floor lights up, and I exhale heavily, my heart racing. Being nervous around a woman is new for me.
Don’t fuck it up. Don’t fuck it up.
The doors eventually open. I drop my shoulders, exhale heavily, and I walk out into the foyer. A large set of black double doors stand before me, and I tentatively turn the door handle.
It’s open, and I walk in.
Charlotte is in front of me, still in her ballgown and just as beautiful as I remember. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her.
Her eyes search mine.
I smile softly and then step forward to take her into my arms. “Alone at last.”
Charlotte
He’s here, and I’m finally in his arms. Arms that are big and warm and hold onto me tight. The smell of his aftershave is all around me. He’s tall—so much taller than me without my shoes on—and his hair is messed up to perfection.
Leaning down, he kisses me slowly and with just the right amount of pressure. He smiles as he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.
“I’ve been through torture tonight watching you with him.”
“He’s just a friend.”
“Does he know that?” He takes my hand and leads me farther into the apartment.
This is my house. I should take the lead—be brave for once.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask with fake confidence.
He kisses my fingertips, his eyes locked on mine. “Please.”
Oh, he’s just so…
I guide him to the kitchen where he stops me and spins me toward him again. I stare up at him and feel the air leaving my lungs. Spencer has this intensity about him that I’ve never seen on him before tonight. I don’t know if it’s because we are completely alone for the first time, because we’re sneaking around, or because we’re in my apartment and we both know that anything could happen. But everything feels magnified tonight. Every glance, every smile, every touch.
Perhaps it’s my nerves that are making everything seem so… extreme.
He takes my face in his hands. “I have to kiss you. It’s been too long since I’ve felt your lips.” His mouth dusts mine, and his tongue slowly slides out and runs across my lips. I feel the thrill of it all the way to my toes. He goes deeper and his tongue connects with mine, softly, as if coaxing me to come out and play.
I smile against him and put my arms around his broad neck.
He walks me backwards into the kitchen, and then we stop for a moment, and he holds me in his arms, looking down at me.
The air swirls between us and we stare at each other as we drink in our close proximity.
His eyes are smouldering, and I can feel the power his body is emanating, he licks his lips, and I can see he’s debating whether or not he should take this slow.
Please…
“Where are your wineglasses?” he asks smoothly.
“R-right,” I stammer. “Good idea.” I point to a cupboard in a fluster. I need a drink… or ten. I take two champagne flutes, grab a bottle of Grange, and pass them over to him.
He smirks when he sees the label. “The good stuff.” Little does he know I just ordered this in a panic from room service only twenty minutes ago. The cork pops, and he pours the bubbly liquid into our glasses.
He passes me a flute and then holds his glass up in the air.
“What are we toasting?” I smile shyly.
“Our first date.”
“This isn’t our first date.”
“That other one didn’t count. That was just a practice run. I completely screwed that up. Erase it from your memory. I want a do-over.”
I smile, relieved that he acknowledged our last disastrous date and I clink my glass with his. “To do-overs,” I whisper.
He touches my glass and takes a slow, controlled sip. His eyes hold mine and he slowly licks his lips.
What is that look? “What’s going on in that mind of yours, Mr Spencer?” I whisper.
“I’m wondering what the hell is going on here.”
I frown.
“You see, I…” His voice trails off, and he places his drink down, stepping towards me to take me in his arms. His lips drop to my neck, and then his tongue comes out and he slowly licks me.
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.”