He chuckles and picks up the soap to lather my body. “Except for the death threats and all.”
“It wasn’t a death threat,” I say. “Only a burial threat. There’s a big difference.”
His soapy hand goes down to between my legs. “Should I be sleeping with one eye open, Prescott?”
I laugh out loud. “Seeing as you kicked my brother out of your office today, I think you should.”
*
It’s late and I’m in bed alone. I can hear Spencer downstairs on the phone…
To her.
He’s been on the phone for forty minutes and he seems to be listening a lot. She obviously has a lot to say.
The green-eyed monster in me is fuming and wants to stomp down there and make him hang up, but the woman in me feels sorry for her. I can’t imagine what it would be like if he told me he was in love with someone else. But then, I could never imagine sleeping with him for ten years casually. Did she get the same Spencer that I get?
Or was he different with her? How did they meet in the beginning? Was it always about the sex? My mind begins to go off on a tangent as I imagine him going to her hotel whenever he met her.
Did they have a routine?
Would they go straight to bed and fuck? Or did they spend time with each other like we do? Having dinner, talking, and laughing.
I close my eyes in disgust with myself.
Stop it! He’s ending it.
My mind keeps picking up speed, though. When they had sex, was it better than what we have? Did she do what I don’t know… anal?
My stomach flips imagining him fucking her. I wonder, do they kiss while they do it like we do?
Did he look at her after it was finished the way he looks at me?
I get a vision of her from the hotel that early morning—her and her power suit, with a figure to die for. She was confident in every way, which is the exact opposite of me.
I close my eyes as the disgusting taste of bile fills my mouth.
I can’t stand the thought of him with her… touching her.
I can hear his voice rise, and I sit up. What’s he saying? I get out of bed and sneak out of the bedroom, down the hall, and sit on the top step. He’s in the dining room and can’t see me from where he is. He, thankfully, has no idea I can hear him.
“Because she’s right!” he snaps. “We both know she’s right. If we meet up, we’ll either end up in a huge fight or in bed. That’s how we are.”
My heart drops.
“But I don’t want to end up in bed, Sheridan. Fucking listen to me. I’m going blue in the face here.”
He listens for a moment.
“No, I don’t want that.”
He listens again.
“No. Look this is going nowhere. You’re not fucking listening. I’m changing my phone number and I’m telling my receptionists that you are not to come into my office unannounced again.”
He listens.
“Because of you dropping to your knees under my desk today!” he snaps. “You can’t fucking touch me. I’ve asked you multiple times to stop and you won’t, so it’s quite obvious to me that we can’t be just friends.”
What the hell? She dropped to her knees under his desk? Did she go down on him?
Oh my God, what the hell happened in his office today?
What if Edward hadn’t interrupted them?
My heart begins to hammer
“For fuck’s sake, stop it!” he snaps. I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s beginning to get angry. “No, you listen to me: you do not go near Charlotte or there will be hell to pay.”
She says something that makes him pause.
“She makes me happy, Sheridan. You always said you wanted me happy.” He listens again. “There is a big difference between the two, and besides, have you forgotten that you have a fucking boyfriend?”
She has a boyfriend. What the hell?
“I don’t care if you’re in an open relationship. No. I don’t want you to end it with him. For the first time in my life I don’t want an open relationship. I want Charlotte all to myself and I can’t think of anything worse than having sex with someone else who isn’t her. This is why I can’t be with you. I don’t physically want to be. I’m not into it like I was before I met her.”
I smile to myself.
“Don’t you fucking dare bring this back on me,” he whispers angrily as he tries to keep his voice down. “I’m blocking you, and if you dare to go near Charlotte, you see what fucking happens.”
I hear a bang and it sounds like his phone has been thrown across the room.
Shit.
I get up and run back to bed, diving under the covers.
After a brief bout of silence, I hear ice being poured into a glass from his refrigerator.
I lie in the darkness as fury pumps through my bones…How fucking dare she?
She goes to his office, drops to her knees even when he’s told her that he’s in love with someone else, and now it sounds like she threatened him that she’s going to come to me.
And say what?
Well, she’s got another thing coming if she thinks I’m taking her shit.
I’ve waited a long time for Spencer to find me, and I’m not handing him over to a woman who fucks at the drop of a hat.
I’ll be waiting, Sheridan.
Come at me.
*
I blow into my coffee cup while sitting at the kitchen counter. It’s now 7:00 a.m. and I’m up and dressed for work early.
Spencer didn’t come to bed until very late last night. I was fast asleep by the time he did, and the last time I checked the clock it read 3:00 a.m.
What was he doing downstairs?
Did he call her back? Was he having second thoughts?
My mind is in overdrive but I’m not falling into the insecure trap. Well, I’m trying my best not to, anyway.
I’m not sure about this love thing. It’s like you hand your heart over to someone and hope to God that they don’t break it.
Part of me feels sorry for Sheridan. I can only imagine how she must feel to have lost him. But part of me is terrified that one day I’ll find out for myself. I exhale heavily and stare out of the window to look out over London.
Stop thinking like this! It’s destructive to both of us.
Nobody needs an insecure girlfriend.
“Good morning, angel.”
I turn to see him walking into the kitchen, his CEO attire firmly in place. Today he’s wearing a navy suit, crisp white shirt, and a paisley tie. His golden hair is just washed, and he’s freshly shaven, too. Spencer exudes opulence…way more than I do.
The expensive watch, the shoes, the ridiculous good looks… he’s the whole, delicious package. Lara’s words of warning come back to haunt me. He’s heartbreak in a hot suit.
His big blue eyes meet mine before he kisses me softly. “I missed waking up with you this morning.” He smiles down at me.
“Good morning, Mr Spencer.” I smile and wrap my arms around him. His tongue slowly slides through my open lips and he sucks on me with just the right amount of pressure.
The way he kisses me is just so…
His eyes drop to my toes and then back up to my face. “You look fucking edible today, angel.”
I force a smile. “Thanks.” I’m wearing a tight grey skirt that hangs just below my knees, and a white silk shirt with a matching grey suit jacket. It’s a power suit… the kind I know he likes.
Stop it.
Damn it, I hate this insecurity nonsense. This isn’t who I am at all.
His eyes drop to my feet again and then up over my hips. I feel the heat from his stare burn my skin, and he readjusts himself in his suit pants.
“What time did you come to bed?” I ask.
He licks his lips as his eyes drop to my breasts and he cups one of them, fascinated. “Late.”
My eyes hold his. “Did the phone call go well?”
His lips drop to my neck and he holds my jaw in his hand. He bites me and I feel goose bumps scatter up my spine.
“Yeah,” he murmurs against my skin.
“What did she say?”
He bites me on the base of my neck and his hand drops to my behind as he grinds me onto his hard cock.
“Spencer…” God, the man’s an animal. Is sex all he thinks about?
“Hmm, why are we talking about Sheridan?” He kisses me again. “I only want to talk about you in this fucking edible outfit.”
“Because I want to know what she said.”
He pulls away from me and my body instantly hates it. “She was pissed off and carrying on.”