Amber Nights - The Esquire Girls Series - Amber's Story (Books 1, 2, 3 & 4) - Box Set

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  Well, I guess that settles it then.

  Chapter 18

  Our meetings at the luxurious downtown offices of the seller, Les Developments Jean-Pierre Gaston, were decidedly lackluster. I have a feeling that Gaston wants to sell the property to a Canadian – a Montrealer, preferably. Though, the meeting was cordial, I really don’t know that we’ve made much headway in convincing him to sell to DisSpence. I didn’t have much input in the discussions anyway. I played the role of a note-taker while Spencer, Gaston and Spencer’s Montreal lawyer tried to reach an agreement.

  To be frank, I’m starting to be annoyed that Spencer has dragged me out here. If he needed a secretary, he should have brought his secretary along with him. I don’t need to be here. I have work to do at the firm.

  After nearly, three hours of fruitless negotiations, Spencer and Gaston decide to call it a day.

  Instead of forcing myself to endure yet another wordless car ride with Spencer, I opt to walk around downtown and visit a few malls before heading back to the hotel. I peruse the shops in Montreal’s underground city and enjoy way too many maple-flavored treats.

  By the time I wander back to the hotel, a hockey game is on in the sports bar on the ground floor. I drop off my bags in my room then return to the bar. I slip onto a stool and order a vodka and cranberry. I’m not a huge sports fan but the time always seems to breeze by when I’m watching an exciting hockey game.

  A group of well-dressed eastern European men are enjoying the game at the end of the bar. Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of them approaching me. I turn to watch him as he advances. He’s tall and tan-skinned wearing dark jeans and a black button-down shirt. He’s well-groomed with neatly-trimmed hair and a glint in his eye that says sex. Hot, hot sex.

  I let him sit next to me and buy me drink after drink long after the hockey game is over. I don’t stop his wandering fingers as they dance up my exposed thigh. His touch excites me and I have just enough alcohol in me to consider inviting him up to my room. Just as I lean close to his ear to offer him the invitation, I feel an aggressive grip at my waist. A hand encircles my core before pressing firmly into my stomach, guiding me to my feet. I catch his scent, that scent of mildly-fragranced body wash, warm spices and raw masculinity that does things to me on a primal level.

  “Say goodnight to your little friend, Amber,” he growls into my ear, his breath tickling my cheek. I feel the rippling muscles in his solid chest press into my back as he reaches past me and slips two hundred dollar bills onto the counter in front of the man I’ve been flirting with. “Here. This should cover the drinks. Take care, bro.”

  With a firm tug, Spencer wraps his fingers around my wrist and leads me towards the exit.

  Chapter 19

  I stumble into one corner of the elevator. All that vodka has me unstable on my feet.

  Spencer retreats to the other corner, silent and clearly pissed. He presses a button on the elevator’s panel and then sticks one hand into his pocket while the other scrolls over the face of his smartphone. His scowl is deep and dark. I’ve never seen him look so angry and intimidating, but guess what? I’m fucking pissed too…and since I’ve got alcohol running through my veins and an raging libido that he’s failed to appease, Spencer is about to feel my wrath.

  “I don’t know what you want from me,” I hiss bitterly. “You call me on the phone every night and get me hot and bothered. Then when we’re face to face and you clearly have a chance to fuck me, you completely flake and treat me like a piece of furniture in the corner of the room. I don’t know what you want from me.” I’m livid. Seething.

  He looks up at me with fire in his gorgeous eyes. “You don’t know what I want?” He lets out a dry laugh as he slips his phone into the pocket of his tailored slacks. “What I want is clear. You, on the other hand, you give me mixed signals. Hot, then cold. On, then off. One minute you’re panting for me. The next you’re trying to run away.” He’s glaring at me from across the elevator. I tremble in the shadow of his commanding presence. “You infuriate me,” he hisses.

  I’m quaking. Still, I manage to speak. “I thought I knew what you wanted. But you haven’t looked at me once since we left New York, Spencer.” I wave one finger in the air for dramatic effect. “So. What. Do. You. Want?”

  He approaches me with measured steps.

  He’s standing so close. I can feel the heat radiating off of his skin. I can feel the enraged desire about to burst from within him. “There’s nothing I want more than to taste this mouth –“ His tone is low and smoky with want as he runs the pad of this index finger along my bottom lip. “– than to stroke these breasts –“ he gives my breast a firm squeeze that sends fire coursing through my body “—than to have you in my bed.” He grabs my ass cheeks with such ferocity that I’m lifted off the ground, my back pressed against the mirror on the elevator wall. I leap forward pressing my lips to his as I wrap my arms around his neck.

  “So, take me,” I pant in a breathless whisper.

  The elevator doors fly open and he staggers out, my legs entangled around his waist. He stumbles and my back slams into the corridor wall. A groan inspired by pain mixed with pleasure escapes my body. I just want to push him to the floor and fuck him right here on the hallway carpet. We somehow manage to make it to his suite before I’m done unbuttoning his shirt.

  He flicks on a lamp and drops me onto the soft king-sized bed then crawls on top of me. He slips off his button-down shirt without releasing my mouth. I fumble trying to unclasp the hook at the back of my skirt but I’m tipsy enough that this proves to be a bit of a problem. Spencer gives it a firm tug and the whole skirt splits in half. This evokes uncontrollable giggles from me. Spencer pulls back, props himself up on his arms and looks deeply into my face.

  “Ugh. You’re too drunk,” he says, disappointment clouding his expression. He affectionately pushes my bangs from my eyes. “You’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”

  “No—no—no—no—no!!! I am totally fine. I am coherent. It’s all good, Spencer.”

  He doesn’t look convinced.

  “I’ll walk in a straight line with my finger on my nose if you want me to,” I smirk, poking him playfully. His expression is unchanged.

  This cannot be happening. He can’t just pull away.

  Not now.

  I want it.

  Bad.

  I’ll beg if I have to. I’ve waited so long.

  I cradle his face in my palms and look him straight in the eyes. “I want this, Spencer,” I say in a low voice. “I’ve wanted this since the first moment I saw you.”

  “Maybe we should wait and see how you feel when you’re sober.” His handsome face is painted with skepticism.

  “Spencer, when I boarded that plane yesterday, I had every intention of screwing your brains out in the bathroom before the plane even took off.” I watch as his expression softens. “I even got a bikini wax. Just for you,” I say with a wink. “I know what I’m doing. I want this.”

  Well, that was all I needed to really get his engine revving. “You got a bikini wax? Shit – I think I’m gonna like that,” he moans. He eases off the bed and unbuckles his belt. His pants slide down his long legs and fall in a pile on the floor. I stare at his protruding bulge with anticipation. The seconds seem to drag on as he slithers out of his boxers. I gasp at the big reveal.

  His cock is long, hard and throbbing for me.

  He sort of stands there for a moment, with his hands on his hips, looking darn proud as I ogle his magnificent package.

  I shrug off my blazer and tug my blouse over my head. “Come here,” I whisper, breathlessly. I lean forward and reach out my fingers to touch his stiff cock. He shudders softly as my flesh makes contact with his. “Oh, Spencer.” I moan, helplessly excited.

  His lips leave a trail of sweet kisses up my thighs, my stomach, my chest, my throat as he crawls up the bed beside me. I take his tongue eagerly when his lips touch mine.

  “You’re so beautiful,�
�� he murmurs against my lips as I arch my back off the bed so he can unclasp my bra. I whimper, so ready to feel him inside. His tongue runs across my neck and he kisses my collarbone. His hand slides between my legs and pushes the lace of my panties aside. “Damn, you weren’t joking when you said you waxed.”

  I purr, arching my spine as his fingers glide over my slickness. I bite down on my lip to restrain the wanton moan fighting against the back of my throat. He slips a finger inside and my nails dig into his back. “Please, Spencer. Fuck me.”

  “Wait,” he sighs as he explores my body with his fingers for the first time.

  I reach up and grab his head, pulling his face to mine. “Fuck me,” I plead before sucking on his lips. I’m so hungry. I’ve been waiting for too long. “I need you…inside.” I clench my muscles around his fingers. He needs to know how much I want this.

  “Condom,” he murmurs to himself as he eases off of me reluctantly. My body shudders at the absence of his.

  He rummages around in his suitcase before holding up a box of condoms, triumphantly. While he sheaths himself, I shimmy out of my panties and spread my legs wide for him. He climbs the bed and sits back on his calves admiring my naked, hungry body splayed out for him. “Shit – you’re even sexier than I imagined.” He lets out a small growl – a threat, a promise and a compliment all rolled up into that one little sound.

  I stare up at his body. It looks as if it’s been chiseled out of marble. His muscular chest is wide and strong. His stomach is ripped into a tight six-pack. His legs are rock-solid, as are his arms. Heat rushes through me at the sight of him. “God – you’re sexier than I imagined,” I say, stroking his powerful biceps.

  Then, he’s on top of me again, kissing me passionately. My body sizzles as his cock glides deep into me.

  Finally.

  We moan in unison as he strokes into me again and again. He’s trying to take it easy but the wanting is overwhelming for us both. I lose my breath as he pushes all the way to my core. Still, I cry, “Deeper!” And he pushes. Deeper.

  And again and again and again.

  And I cry out his name, yanking on his hair. He presses his skin into mine as he holds me tight to his chest.

  “Amber.” My name never sounded so sweet. My muscles clench around his hardness.

  Then, he’s on his knees, lifting my body slightly off the mattress, still gripping my body tight. He’s working those bulging biceps. My arms hang like a rag doll as he pounds into me without breaking his stride.

  Fuck – He’s so strong. So masculine.

  He releases his grip on my back and my upper body lands heavily on the soft linens. He’s still on his knees. He clutches my hips, slamming his pelvis feverishly into mine. He hisses through his clenched teeth.

  The muscles at my core spasm around his dick. His face pinches with pleasure. “Oh, shit – I’m gonna come. Fuck.”

  The sounds he’s making nudge me closer to the edge. I guide his fingers to my clit and work my hips into him with a fierceness I’ve never felt before as he massages my sweet spot franticly.

  “Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!” I scream.

  He looks down at me. Our eyes lock briefly before mine roll back into my head as the orgasm quakes through my body.

  He hisses my name one last time and he explodes from within.

  Chapter 20

  “You know, there’s nothing about you on Google.” My face is pressed to his chest and my fingers run lazily up and down his skin, stroking the light blond hairs sprinkled about his torso. “I mean – there’s lots about DisSpence Group, but nothing about you.”

  Although we’ve only spent one night together, there’s something so familiar about Spencer. Waking up in his hotel room this morning feels comfortable and easy despite the soreness in all my limbs after our night-long romp of passion. His body fits so snugly against mine. His breathing and mine, completely in sync. When I lay in his bed last night recovering from the savage way we had sexed each other, I wondered if I would regret it all in the morning. But now that I’m in his arms, basking in the warm glow of a new day, there’s not one moment of it that I want to take back.

  He chuckles, his eyes shimmering in the sunlight, “So you Googled me?”

  “Oh, of course I Googled you. I LinkedIn’d and Facebooked and Twittered you, too. And there’s nothing. Come on. Do you know how hard it is to get a good fantasy going at night when there’s no online pics to help me along?” I poke him playfully in the ribs.

  “I guess you have to come see me more often then,” he jokes tickling my ear with his tongue.

  “I’m serious, Spencer…What’s your deal?”

  “I guess I’m a bit of a recluse…since Chloe died.”

  Chloe.

  I’m guessing that was the name of his wife.

  His disposition shifts almost immediately. He pushes out from beneath me. He sits on the edge of the bed and checks his phone. “I should go for my morning jog.” He eases to his feet, his naked body just as sexy as it was last night.

  “I’ll come with you,” I offer.

  He shuts me down. “I prefer to do that alone.” His tone is soft but decisive. He doesn’t make eye contact.

  He disappears into the bathroom and reemerges wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt. He digs through his suitcase and pulls out a pair of worn running shoes. He grabs his key card and slips the buds of his headphones into his ears.

  “We’re visiting the building this evening. Five o’clock. I’ll text you when the driver’s downstairs.” He unlocks the door and disappears into the hallway.

  And just like that, we’re strangers again.

  Chapter 21

  I keep my eyes glued to my phone screen as we are being driven from our hotel to the property that Spencer intends to buy. I’m reeling from the sting of his rejection. He’s fucked me. Now, he’s done with me. My body pasted to my corner of the backseat, I’m hoping that if I hold my breath and make myself really small, he’ll forget what happened between us and I’ll forget how he’s humiliated me.

  Spencer seems completely oblivious to the inner turmoil that I’m experiencing. He’s lounging casually on his side of the car, one arm draped nonchalantly across the back of the seat as he scrolls through his smartphone. Looking as delicious as always in his charcoal suit, white shirt and stripped black and grey necktie.

  How can he be so unaffected? So distant? Especially after what we shared last night.

  How cliché of him to discard me mere hours after fucking me. Even after he pursued me relentlessly for weeks. And how stupid of me to give in all while knowing how much I have to lose.

  I feel unbalanced. Off kilter. Like I could teeter and fall off the edge, back into the old me with my old habits.

  Oh, what I would do to find an NA meeting right now.

  The car pulls up to the curb and Spencer glances over at me for the first time in what feels like an eternity. “We’re here.”

  I peer out the window and feel as if the air has been sucked out of my lungs.

  This can’t be it.

  No, it just can’t.

  The driver graciously holds the car door open for me and I wobble in my three-inch heels as I step onto the sidewalk and look up at the “For Sale” sign outside of the Notre-Dame-de-Saint-Marc Rehabilitation Institute, the property that Spencer would stop at nothing to convert into his next condo development site.

  Chapter 22

  I search furiously through the file.

  How had nobody mentioned that Spencer’s newest project would involve tearing down a rehab center and turning it into condos? How come I didn’t notice this detail when I reviewed the file?

  It’s bad enough that he would be ripping this institution away from a community that obviously needs it, but what he doesn’t know, is that this center has special significance for me.

  My mind flashes back to the day when my mother and my two sisters had come to check me in. I was strung out on pills. The withdrawal was sure to be overwh
elming. I was filled with anxiety. I was worried because I was missing an exam that day. It was worth thirty percent of my final Criminal Law grade. I was freaking out. I didn’t want to stay. There were lots of tears, lots of protesting on my part. But deep down, I knew I couldn’t go on that way. I was falling apart.

  I was granted academic leave and eventually everything worked out. I got some less-than-stellar grades, but the world kept spinning. And now, I’ve got a summer job at a decent New York City law firm and everything worked out…Thinking about the alternative makes me cringe violently. Thinking about what could have happened almost brings me to my knees.