I stare at him for a moment. “Is that what you did? Decide you were going to make it happen and it just miraculously happened?”
“No. I worked hard and educated myself on what I had to do to make it happen. Then I worked fucking harder and harder. You just need to take a chance and back yourself. If you don’t believe in you nobody will.”
I run my fingers through his hair. “Are you going to turn into my life coach now, Spencer Jones?”
“No.” He bites my nipple through my nightdress. “I’m your sex coach. I can’t be everything to you.”
My eyes hold his. “Who said you can’t be everything to me,” I whisper.
The air tightens around us.
That sounded soppy and needy. Why did I have to say that?
“And besides, you would be a terrible coach of anything besides sex because the guy in the apartment didn’t do it,” I add to lighten the mood.
He rolls his eyes. “Good grief, you really have no idea what you’re on about. You’re a terrible fake cop. Perhaps I should take over your whole life.” He goes back to watching the show.
I smirk as I watch the television. Life coach, sex coach… love coach. What else could I possibly need?
Spencer Jones could be my everything. I know he could.
*
Large arms circle me from behind, and Spencer’s big, dreamy lips kiss the side of my face.
“Good morning, angel,” he whispers sleepily.
I smile and turn my face to kiss him softly. “Morning, Spence.”
Our naked bodies are a tangled mess.
It’s just after 5:00 a.m., and Spencer’s alarm has woken us up. He has to go before my guards get up.
“Maybe we could just run away together instead.” He sighs with his eyes still closed.
I giggle. “That would be something, wouldn’t it?”
He rolls me over so that half of my body is over his. I snuggle into his chest and he kisses my forehead. “Are you sore?”
“Yes.” I smirk. “Who knew that would be a question you would have to ask me so often?”
“Hmm.” He sighs. “I’m not going to get my wakeup sex today then, am I?”
Should I just do it anyway? I want him to leave satisfied.
Stop it!
This isn’t all about him. I need to pull myself out of this clingy mood. I get up and go to the bathroom to break the tension. When I come back, Spencer is still on his back in bed. His honey-blond hair is messed up, and his broad, naked chest is on display with the white blanket pooled over his waist.
“You probably should get going,” I say quietly.
He nods.
Our eyes are locked, and it’s as if he is waiting for me to say something.
I go to the wardrobe and take out his shirt. “I washed this for you yesterday.”
“Thanks.”
After being in his arms all weekend, the thought of him going home feels horrible.
I’m not sure what to do. What do you say in this situation?
As if sensing my turmoil, he holds his arms out for me. “Come here, baby.”
I sit on the bed beside him and he pulls me close into an embrace. I scrunch my eyes closed up against his strong neck.
I don’t want him to go. I’m just getting the hang of all this.
I can be better. I know I could have been better in bed.
Stop it!
I pull out of his grip and stand. “I have to shower.” I bend to kiss him, and then I walk into the bathroom and turn the shower on. My heart is beating hard in my chest. I know this may be the last time I see him, but I’m not asking the question.
I just want him to go so I don’t have to wait for him to ask about seeing me again. This is like slow torture.
I want it over with.
I take a long shower. When I eventually walk back into the bedroom, I find him standing next to the freshly made bed wearing his black dinner suit. My heart free-falls at the sight of him.
“My word, you do look handsome in that suit, Mr Spencer.” I smile softly.
He takes me into his arms and kisses me. “Can I see you again?” he whispers.
I nod and smile against his lips.
And just like that, the day is saved.
“I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
“Okay.”
He studies my face and runs his finger down my cheek and over my bottom lip.
“You are one beautiful woman, Charlotte Prescott.”
I smile, feeling emotional.
“I’ll talk to you later?”
I nod, unable to talk because of the lump in my throat.
With one last lingering kiss, he finally pulls away and walks down the stairs. I hear the front door click shut when he leaves.
I flop onto the bed and smile goofily at the ceiling, running my fingertips over my lips to get closer to his touch.
Spencer
I walk into the restaurant and see my two best friends sitting at our usual table.
Breakfast time—our Monday ritual.
“Hey, Spence,” Masters greets me.
“Hey,” Seb mutters, studying his phone.
I take a seat and smile smugly.
They both look up and watch me for a moment. They frown together, and then exchange looks.
“What’s wrong with you?” Seb asks cautiously. “You’re being creepy.”
“Ask me where I’ve been all weekend.”
Masters rolls his eyes. “Where have you been all weekend, Spencer?”
“With Charlotte.”
They both sit up, suddenly interested. “What?” Seb frowns.
“I went back there on Saturday night and snuck in.”
Masters frowns. “Why, you old dog.”
“And?” Seb prompts me.
“And she is the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever been with.”
“Did you have sex?” Masters asks.
I nod, trying my best to act casual. “Uh-huh.”
“And?”
I lay my napkin over my lap. “And that’s it.” I put my hand up for coffee.
They exchange another look before glaring back at me. “What do you mean, that’s it?” Seb asks.
“I mean, I’m not giving you the details.”
Masters grunts. “We always get blow-by-blow accounts of your sex life.”
“Yes.” Seb bites into his toast. “Don’t you know we’re living vicariously through you.”
“Not with this one.” I smile as the waitress fills my coffee cup. “Thank you.”
“So, was the sex…?” Seb’s voice trails off.
“The sex was…” I inhale dreamily. I get a vision of how nervous she was when we were walking to the bedroom for first time. She was literally shaking. The memory makes me smile softly.
“What is that, look?” Masters pins me with a stare.
“What look?”
“That Mary Poppins, I’m pathetic look.”
I chuckle and get an image of her clinging to me the first time we did it. It hurt her, I know it did, but she soldiered through it… for me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I smirk.
“Are you seeing her again?” Masters asks.
“You can bet your fucking life I am,” I say as I bite into my toast.
“And you’re not going to tell us one single detail about her?”
“Nope. Only that she is...” I narrow my eyes. “She is the most perfect woman on this planet.”
“Oh, yeah?” Seb frowns, clearly fascinated. “What’s so good about her?”
“I don’t know.” I chew my food. “But she makes me fucking nervous.”
“You?” Masters smirks. “When have you ever been nervous with a woman?”
“Never,” I reply. “I was getting all fluttery when she looked at me, and it wasn’t even about the sex.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters against his coffee cup. “Here we go.”
“She’s different. So, so different from anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Good God.” Seb rolls his eyes. “What next?”
I get a vision of my angel lying next to me in bed this morning.
I think I lay awake and watched her for half the night; she was too perfect to miss a second of.
Her thick, blonde hair splayed across her pillow, her perfect skin with dimples, and the way her chest rose and fell as she breathed. Damn.
I want to turn around and drive back there right now. I turn my attention to my two best friends instead. “What have you two boring fucks been doing all weekend, anyway?”
Seb looks at me dryly. “Fighting with The Wicked Witch of the West.”
“Ugh. I hate that fucking woman.” I tut. Seb’s ex-wife Helena is the most conniving little slut on the planet. She slept with their gardener and is now bleeding the money out of him, day by day. “Masters, you know some criminals. Get her knocked off for us, will you?” I mutter.