Mr Spencer

by Swan, T L

  My phone rings at the same time, shit.

  I quickly answer it. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Charlotte. It’s Alexander,” the deep voice purrs down the phone.

  Alexander is Edward’s best friend. Edward said he would be checking on me. I glance over to Sarah to see who she is talking to.

  “Hello,” she answers, and her face breaks out into a smile. “Hi, Spencer.”

  It’s him.

  “How are you?” Alex asks me on my call.

  “I’m great, busy with work,” I add. “And you?” I glance back at Sarah.

  “Oh, that’s okay, I know you’re busy,” Sarah says. She listens for a moment. “Oh.” She sighs.

  Damn him.

  “We need to catch up while you’re in London,” Alexander says.

  What I really need to do is hang up so I can listen to Sarah’s conversation properly. “Yes, we do,” I agree in a rush.

  “What are you doing Saturday night? I have my mother’s charity ball on. You must come,” Alexander suggests.

  Sarah drops into her chair. “Oh, I see.” She smiles sadly. “She’s a lucky girl,” he says.

  What the hell is he saying to her?

  “Of course, Alex.” I exhale. “I’m really busy though, I’m at work.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you go. I will message you with the details.”

  I watch Sarah, and she frowns as she listens. “He said that?”

  I need to end this call. “Yes, Alex. Sounds great, see you Saturday.” I hang up in a rush.

  Sarah is smirking as she stares down at her desk.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She smiles. “I’ll have to think about it.” She listens for a moment. “Thanks for letting me know. Yeah, it’s okay. I completely understand.”

  She hangs up and turns to me. “Well, that’s that.” She throws her hands up in the air. “Spencer Jones just dumped me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said that he wasn’t over his old girlfriend and it wasn’t fair to start something with me.”

  I stare at her. That was the last excuse I ever thought he would give. “Oh.”

  “He said that Richard had asked him if he could call me because he felt that he and I had hit it off.”

  “Really?” I smile in surprise. That was nice of him to say that to boost her confidence.

  She shrugs and tries hard not to smile, but I can tell she’s flattered. “I don’t think I’ll go out with him, though. He isn’t really my type.”

  “I thought Richard was hot.” I smile.

  “Really?” She frowns.

  “Yes, really.”

  My email pings again.

  Lottie,

  I need to talk to you. You are worrying me. I don’t understand what’s going on???

  Please give me your number.

  Spence

  I blow out a dejected breath. He doesn’t know what’s going on because I hardly know myself. I loiter around work for a half an hour, and finally come to a conclusion: there’s no harm in talking to him I suppose.

  Mr Spencer

  My number is 07712345678

  A reply comes back immediately.

  I have a business dinner on tonight. I’ll call you when I get home around 9pm.

  Spence: xoxo

  I stare at the hugs and kisses, and I feel my heart flutter. He’s calling me tonight. I want to spin around on my chair in excitement.

  I won’t, of course. I’ll pretend, even to myself, that this is an inconvenience.

  I click the email closed and turn my attention to Sarah and Paul. “You guys want to go to the pub for drinks after work?” I ask.

  Paul shrugs. “Yeah, why not? May as well. I’ve got nothing but mouldy cheese in my fridge at home, anyway.”

  Sarah smiles and types away on her keyboard. “Yes, but can we go to the Grange?” “Sure, but why?”

  “That place is Hot Dick City.”

  Paul rolls his eyes. “I take it you’ve gotten over that other chump in the last half an hour then?”

  “God, yes.” She fixes her hair. “His loss. I’m way too hot for him, anyway. Spencer bloody who?”

  * * *

  I glance at my watch: it’s 9:30 p.m. Maybe he isn’t going to call after all.

  I make myself a cup of tea and sit at the kitchen island. I love this apartment. It already feels like home.

  My phone dances across the bench and an unknown number pops up.

  It’s him.

  My heart begins to race, and I blow out a deep breath to try and calm myself down.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello,” his mischievous, deep voice says down the phone. I find myself smiling just from the sound of his voice.

  “Hello, Mr Spencer.”

  He chuckles. “Always so formal.”

  I press my lips together, too nervous to speak in case I say something stupid.

  “What’s going on?” he asks.

  “Nothing serious. I just wanted to see what it was like working in another environment where people didn’t know my father. You won’t say anything, will you?”

  “To who? I don’t know any of your family’s aristocrat peers.”

  “I know,” I murmur, suddenly feeling stupid.

  “Does your father know where you are?”

  “He knows I’m in London, but he thinks I’m working at my regular job. Edward and Dad are overseas for six weeks. I thought it was a good opportunity to have some fun.”

  He inhales sharply. “By fun, you mean sex?”

  I smirk. Why does he always have to be so upfront? “No, I mean spend time with Beth, my friend. Work a different job. Meet new people, things like that.”

  “Haven’t your guards snitched on you?”

  “No, they don’t know what I’m doing, either. They stay on the ground floor of my office building and meet me on my breaks or when I finish.”

  He hesitates. “Let me get this straight—you’ve moved to London for six weeks and are pretending to be someone else and nobody at all knows?”

  I run my finger along the edge of the kitchen counter. “Beth knows, and now… you.”

  “And what about him?”

  I frown. “Who?”

  “The man you slept with?” He’s clearly annoyed.

  “Oh.” I scrunch my eyes shut. God, this is the biggest lie I’ve ever told. “No, he doesn’t know.”

  “So, he’s still communicating with you as Charlotte.”

  “Yes.”

  He stays silent for a moment. “I take it you are in a relationship with him then?”

  My eyes widen. “N-no,” I stammer. “No, it was just a one-time thing.”

  “Why would you give your virginity to someone for a one-time thing?” he snaps, and I can hear tension in his voice.

  Shit…. I close my eyes. “It just happened, Spencer. It’s over now and I would rather not talk about it, please.”

  “Is that why you moved to London and are carrying on with this façade? You were hurt? Or were you just running away from him?”

  “No. It really was a one-time thing, and now it’s over. Did you call me to talk about my past because I’m quite sure there is a lot of your history that we can discuss instead.”

  He falls silent, eventually speaking softly. “Can I see you?”

  God, I would like that.

  “Perhaps we could go out to dinner when my father gets home?” I offer.

  “Why not now?”

  “Because if I’m seen with you, my guards will tell my family, and then I’ll be watched extra carefully. I’ve come this far with this fake identity and I want to carry on with it for the full six weeks. I’m really enjoying my job, and the friends I am making.”

  “You don’t think I’m worth the risk?”

  I roll my eyes. “You are being very high maintenance tonight, Mr Spencer. Did you call me to nag me to death?”

  He laughs out loud. It’s deep and intoxicating, and I feel myself smiling
goofily down the phone.

  “Well, I’ve never been called that before.” He chuckles.

  “There’s a first time for everything.” I smile as I sip my tea.

  “What are you doing now?” His voice has dropped to a sexy, playful tone.

  “I’m sitting at my kitchen bench in my pyjamas with a face mask on, drinking tea.”

  “Good grief, woman. Lie to me.”

  I giggle. “Okay.” I pause and try to think of a good lie. “I’m on a yacht.”

  “Yes,” he whispers.

  I try and stop myself from laughing. “I’m sailing through Croatia. The sun is setting, and I can hear the water lapping at the side of the boat.”

  “Yes,” he purrs.

  “With my husband.” I smile.

  He makes a buzzer sound. “Wrong lie. Try again.”

  “What lie are you hoping for?” I chuckle.

  “Something along the lines of you being naked and thinking about me.”

  My eyes widen. “Oh, that one.” God, he’s fun. “Well, you have to ask me again.”

  “What are you doing now, my beautiful Charlotte?”

  The sound of him calling me beautiful makes me smile. “I’m taking a bubble bath.”

  “And?” I can tell he’s smiling.

  “Drinking champagne.”

  “Are you lying back against the edge?”

  I get a vision of myself naked in the bath, drinking champagne. “Yes,” I breathe.

  “Is your hair up?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is the room full of steam?”

  I feel arousal start to tear through my blood stream. “Yes.”

  “What are your legs doing?” he whispers.

  I swallow the lump in my throat. God, this man makes me think naughty things.

  “They’re open, my knees touching the sides of the bath,” I whisper.

  He inhales sharply.

  We stay silent as we both picture the setting; my sex begins to pump.

  “Have you ever touched yourself while you thought of me?” His voice is husky, aroused.

  I cringe. “Yes,” I breathe. He could make me orgasm just by talking to me like this.

  “I’m going to call you tomorrow night at 9:30, angel, and I want you in the bath, naked with your legs wide open so we can continue this conversation.”

  My eyes widen.

  What?

  “Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.”

  Silence hangs between us.

  Eventually, he replies, “Goodnight, angel.”

  I press my hand on my chest as I try to control my breathing. I don’t want him to know how much he turns me on with his voice alone, and I most definitely don’t want to get off the phone. I want to play more games tonight.

  “Goodnight, Spence.”

  We both wait. I just want to ask him over to my place, and I know that’s what he’s waiting for.

  Not yet.

  “Goodbye,” I whisper, and I force myself to hang up.

  * * *

  Beth’s eyes nearly bulge from their sockets while she sucks her straw. “What do you mean, lie to him?”

  I shrug and laugh. “Just what I said. I told him I had pyjamas and a face mask on, and he said lie to me.”

  “Oh, this guy is fun, I like him.”

  The two of us are at dinner and I’m filling her in on the latest Spencer gossip. I hate to admit it but I have been wearing a goofy grin all day…. the man makes me giddy.

  “So, tonight, you have to be in the bath when he calls you?” she asks.

  I shrug. “Apparently.”

  She smiles broadly. “Get in the bath and ask him to come over to wash your back.” She chews her food. “With his dick.”

  We both laugh out loud. “Can you imagine?”

  “Do you reckon it’s big?’

  I giggle and snort my wine up my nose. “Beth?’

  “Seriously. He’s so over confident, he would have to be packing heat.”

  I laugh myself into a coughing fit. “Packing heat?” I cough. “Who the hell says packing heat?”

  She puts her finger up. “I do.”

  I laugh and shake my head, and then she falls serious.

  “Go home, get naked, and get into a big hot bath then wait for Mr Size Thirteen to call.”

  I raise my wineglass in the air, and she clinks hers against it. “Mission accepted.”

  * * *

  The room is filled with steam as I lie back in the deep bath. I’m so aroused, I might orgasm when the phone rings… and right on cue, it does.

  “Hello,” I answer.

  “Are you in the bath?” he asks seductively.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  “Are your legs open?”

  Just get straight to the point, why don’t you? My eyes close. I’ve never had anyone talk to me like this before. It’s insane.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “Run your fingertips down over your stomach.” I can tell he’s already aroused too.

  “Did you call to talk dirty to me, Mr Spencer?” I tease.

  “Shut up and fucking do it.”

  “Is that filthy mouth of yours always so bossy?”

  “Angel, you have no idea.”

  I smile and I dust my fingers down over my stomach.

  “Tell me what you feel?” he asks.

  Oh God…

  “My skin.”

  “Is it soft?”

  “Yes.”

  “Lower.” He exhales.

  I drop my fingers between my open legs.

  “Circle your four fingertips over your clitoris.”

  I shudder, because just hearing him say that heats my blood. No man has ever spoken to me like this. I do as he asks, and I close my eyes to let the pleasure take over.

  “Imagine it’s me who’s doing it. My open lips are on your neck.”

  My head falls back.

  “Talk to me,” he whispers through ragged breaths. “I want to hear your voice when you’re aroused.”

  My fingers get to work, and I moan softly, my legs parting wider, seeking his invisible touch.

  “Hmm, fuck yeah.” He hisses.

  I smile at the arousal in his voice.

  “Are you going to come for me, angel? Because I’ve been coming for you for two weeks.”

  “Hmm.” I smile, my eyes still closed.

  “I’ve had to imagine I was with you during sex or I couldn’t come.”

  What?

  My eyes snap open. “You imagined you were having sex with me when you were inside another woman?” I snap.

  “Oh… shit… I mean...”

  “You’ve had sex with someone else since we met?”

  “Ah…” He hesitates as he tries to get himself out of this. “So… so did you, Charlotte,” he stammers. “Did you imagine it was me?”

  My blood begins to boil. “No, Spencer. I did not.”

  “You should have. I’m way better in bed than him.”

  I get out of the bath in an instant. The water sloshes all over the floor. “No, what you are is an idiot!” I snap.

  “I know. Wait. What are you doing?”

  “Ending this call.”

  “Don’t hang up on me,” he pleads.

  “Go and do what you’ve been doing with the others.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Imagining having sex with me is as close as you’re ever going to get. You big, stupid jerk.”

  I hang up, wrap myself in a towel, and then I storm out of the bathroom.

  The man is a first-class idiot.

  * * *

  I watch my phone dance across my side table while I lie in bed.

  It’s late on Thursday night now, and Spencer has been calling me non-stop since our disastrous call on Tuesday.

  I don’t want to answer. I mean, what is there to say?

  While I’ve been pining over here for him, he’s been out screwing around, imagining my face when he was w
ith someone else.

  I’m shocked and appalled, but if I’m being totally honest, a little relieved that he had to imagine me to climax. That’s God punishing him for being such an asshole.

  And why does he have to be so damn honest all the time?

  It’s infuriating.

  Beth thinks I should speak to him, and that in his eyes, I have double standards because he thinks I slept with someone else, too. She thinks I’m making a big deal out of nothing. Maybe I am.

  But maybe I’m just not cut out for casual dating, and this was just the gentle reminder I needed. He had me naked in the bath touching myself, for Christ’s sake. Talk about being putty in his hands.

  The phone stops vibrating, and I stare at the ceiling, a sad, dejected feeling sweeping through me. I feel like I’m back to square one with him—below square one, because now I know he’s having sex with other women.

  Maybe I should have answered his call and had it out with him. Perhaps it would make me feel better?

  I exhale heavily and pick up my phone to start scrolling through Instagram when the phone starts to vibrate in my hand again.

  I stare at it for a moment.

  Screw it. “Hi,” I answer.

  “Are you fucking serious?” he snaps.

  I stay silent, unsure what to say.

  “Okay, firstly… don’t you dare hang up on me.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Secondly, yes, I am well aware that telling you I imagined you during sex was probably the stupidest thing to ever come out of my mouth.”

  “Who was she?”

  He hesitates.

  “I want to know who she was.”

  “Her name is Sheridan, and she’s an old friend. She lives in America.”

  I get a vision of a beautiful woman with my Spencer, and jealousy twists in my stomach.

  “You know her well?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  I don’t know if I want to know the answer to this question, but I ask anyway. “How long have you been sleeping with her?”

  “Do we have to talk about this?” he asks.

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether you want me to listen to what you have to say.”