Mr Spencer

by Swan, T L

  He runs his hand up my leg again. “Ouch.” He shakes his hand. “This dress is fucking lethal. It has its own built-in security system. Did Edward buy it for you?”

  I laugh. I’ve worn this dress a few times before but never realised the crystals were so sharp to the touch. Nobody has ever touched me like this while wearing it before.

  “Is this where you tell me to slip into something more comfortable?” I smirk, feeling brave.

  His eyes darken. “As cliché as it sounds, and at the great risk of being kicked out, yeah. This is exactly where I ask you to slip into something more comfortable.”

  “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” I say.

  “Go on…”

  “I couldn’t get the zip undone to take it off, and I didn’t want to call for help because I knew you were coming here.”

  His eyes widen. “And who do you normally call for help, may I ask?”

  “Wyatt.” I giggle.

  He shakes his head in disgust. “This is one of those moments where you need to lie to me, Charlotte.”

  I laugh. Oh, he’s fun.

  “I’ll ask you one more time: who do you normally call for help?”

  “Beverly, my assistant.” I smile.

  “Much better.”

  I smile goofily as I take another drink of my champagne. The air between us is electric. Our lips touch, and I feel so naughty and carefree. We get carried away and he leans forward, accidentally knocking my glass of champagne over. It spills over the bench and onto my dress.

  “Oh, fuck!” he barks, and without missing a beat, he begins to unbutton his white shirt. All I can do is watch with my heart in my throat. What is he doing?

  He takes his shirt off and wipes the bench down with it.

  His chest is broad and tanned, and his stomach is rippled with muscles. He has a scattering of dark hair across his chest, and then a trail from his navel that disappears into his pants. I’ve never seen a more beautiful man. I’ve never seen any man, but jeez, he’s one hell of a first.

  “We have tea-towels for wiping up spillages,” I say casually.

  He kisses me. “I needed an excuse to take some clothing off.” He lays me back over the bench. “You thought that was an innocent spill, didn’t you? It was completely strategic.”

  Playful Spencer I can handle. He doesn’t scare me. I laugh out loud, and he slides his hand up my stomach.

  “Shit!” He pulls his hand away. “That’s it. This fucking dress is coming off. It has teeth.”

  I lie on the bench looking up at him. My hands are above my head, and my blonde hair is splayed out. He smiles and points at me. “Ah, I see what’s going on here. Well played, Charlotte. Well played.”

  “What?”

  “The old sea anemone dress trick.” He smirks. “That’s an oldie, but a goody, Prescott.”

  I giggle.

  “You wore that dress knowing full well that I would have to take you into the bedroom and take if off you, didn’t you?”

  I smile up at him.

  He runs his index finger down my neck, between my breasts, and down to my pubic bone.

  Our eyes are locked, and the air leaves my lungs in a rush.

  “Didn’t you?” he whispers.

  This is it, the moment I’ve waited so long for. I know he thinks I’ve done this before, but hopefully I can fudge my way through it. So far, so good.

  “Well?” he asks with a raised brow.

  This just all seems to be moving so fast. I have no idea at what pace it should be going. Is this normal?

  I nod softly. “Yes.”

  He pulls me up by the hand. “Luckily for you.” He grabs my hips and pulls me down from the bench. “I am an excellent personal assistant and will happily oblige.”

  We fall serious, and he kisses me, his tongue sweeping deeper into my mouth as he holds my face. My sex begins to throb. “Where is your bedroom?” he asks against my lips.

  “Up… upstairs,” I whisper. Oh, this feels like it’s going way too fast. He’s just got here. “Can we just…?”

  His eyes meet mine and his face softens. “Slow it down?” he whispers as he kisses my lips softly.

  I nod. “I’m sorry. I just…”

  “Once again, I’m getting ahead of myself. Spencer Jones needs a leash.”

  I laugh out loud at him talking in third person. He takes my jaw in his hands and stares into my eyes. “Will you dance with me, Charlotte?”

  “Here?”

  “Right here.” He takes out his phone and opens Spotify. “What’s your favourite song?”

  I smile and think for a moment. “Umm.” I shrug. “I have a playlist on my phone.”

  His eyes widen and he feigns surprise. “You do?”

  I giggle. “I do.” I pick up my phone and he takes it from me. “What’s the code?”

  I smirk and snatch it from him, typing the code in myself. “I’m not giving you the code to my phone.” I scoff.

  “But how am I supposed to spy on you if I can’t get into your phone?”

  “You’re an idiot.” I giggle. “All Hands on Deck” by Tenashe begins to play.

  He snakes his arms around my waist, the sexy beat playing out around us, and he pulls my body closer to his. “That’s better.” He smiles down at me.

  I’m dancing in my kitchen with a gorgeous man who has no shirt on.

  Who am I?

  My hands roam over his bare shoulders. I can feel his warm skin on my face as I lean on him. “Is this one of your strategic moves?”

  He chuckles and twirls me around. “Yeah, but I didn’t think it through too well.”

  “Why?”

  “Your dress is biting me.” He winces at the crystals pushing up against his chest. “This is painful.”

  I laugh out loud and he spins me around.

  “But do you see how brave I am?” he asks.

  “It really is very impressive.” I smirk.

  “Anything for you, Lady Charlotte.” He leans down and kisses me softly. “What are the words to this song?” He frowns as he listens. “All hands on deck, all in the front all in the back,” he repeats.

  He has the ability to switch between intense and playful within seconds. I’ve never met anyone like him before.

  He raises a sexy brow. “All part of your strategic planning, no doubt, Prescott.”

  “What is?” I laugh.

  “All in the front, all in the back.”

  “They’re words to a song.” I shake my head.

  “Ah, but are they.” He puts his hands on my arse. “Or are you giving me directions to where you want me to touch you?” His tongue takes mine with purpose. “A roadmap, as such. Is this a secret code I needed to crack?”

  “A roadmap to where?” I whisper.

  “To wherever you want me to take you.” His tongue dances with mine.

  This is it.

  This is what I want. I don’t want him to go home, I want him to stay here with me and take away the ache.

  What are you waiting for? Just do it.

  His lips linger over mine, and my arousal is beginning to ache between my legs.

  “Spence.” I run my fingers through his hair.

  “Yes, angel.” He smiles at me, already knowing what I’m going to say.

  “I want you to take me upstairs and I want you to take this dress off me.”

  He smiles and holds me close. We stay in each other’s arms for just a moment, and then, without another word, he takes my hand in his and leads me out of the kitchen. My heart begins to race as he pulls me through the apartment and over to the stairs.

  “I would carry you up, but I don’t want you to think I’m showing off.”

  I laugh. “That’s a relief. I do hate a poser.”

  With every step closer to my bedroom, the less air there seems to be in my lungs.

  You can do this, you can do this, I chant over and over again in my head.

  Spencer falls quieter, as if sensing my nerves.
“And what are we changing you into?”

  If I could answer him, I would, but I’m too busy having a complete internal freak-out.

  He’s so experienced. What if I’m a dud in bed? I probably am, I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.

  “Where is your bedroom?” he asks.

  “Up at the end of the hall,” I whisper.

  Hearing my voice, he turns and frowns, concern on his face. “What’s wrong, angel?” He takes my hands in his.

  I shrug, embarrassed, “I’m…”

  “You’re what?”

  “I’m not. I mean… I don’t.” I shake my head. God, this is all seems so fast. “I mean, I do…”

  He smiles softly. “You’re nervous?”

  I nod, horrified at my own inexperience.

  “Do you want to do this?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “This is only your second time?”

  My eyes search his. I want to say first, but I don’t want to scare him away, so I nod again.

  Spencer smiles and leans down to kiss me. Its tender, lingering, and gentle, and in that moment, I know he’s going to look after me.

  “You do know that I’m going to find who was your first and kill that fucker, right?”

  I smile goofily.

  “You have no idea how badly I’ve been beating myself up about this,” he says as he turns and pulls me into the room. “It keeps me awake at night.”

  “It does?”

  “God, yes.” He tuts and turns me towards him, his face softening when our eyes meet. “Let’s just pretend this is your first time, yeah?” he whispers. “For my sake.”

  I frown. “Why would you want to pretend that this is my first time?”

  “To make me feel better about what I missed out on. Biggest fucking regret of my life.”

  My heart swells, and some of my confidence returns. “Spencer—”

  “Spence,” he corrects me with a soft kiss.

  “Are you going to take this anemone off me, or am I going to die in it?”

  He chuckles. “God, yes, this dress is going in the bin.”

  “This is a Dolce & Gabbana. I don’t think it’s garbage worthy.”

  He grabs me and kisses me roughly, walking me backwards. “Dolce can Gabbana off.”

  He turns me away from him, and I close my eyes as the zipper in the back of my dress slowly begins to slide down. It’s laced up with gold ribbon toward my lower back, and I can feel Spencer begin to unlace it. He slowly slides one shoulder off, and then the other, eventually peeling it down over my hips. He stays focused on his task, and all I can do is watch his face through the mirror in front of me.

  What’s he thinking?

  I’m so nervous, I think I may throw up.

  “Lie to me,” I blurt out.

  His eyes come up to mine in surprise. “What?”

  “Tell me something about yourself to take my mind off this.”

  Tenderness crosses his face. “Angel, ….how beautiful you are.”

  I frown as I try desperately try to control the oncoming heart attack.

  He falls into his requested role play with ease. “Did you know I was in the Guinness Book of Records?”

  “You were?” I frown, unsure if he is lying or serious.

  “Yes, for having the smallest dick in the world.”

  I burst out laughing and look over my shoulder at him.

  “True story. This dick has never hurt a soul.” He winks.

  He’s trying to calm my nerves. I’m not scared of him hurting me, I’m scared of letting him down.

  I turn back to him. “That’s useful information.” I smile. “Although, I’m unsure you should spread that one around.”

  “I do try to keep it on the down low. I don’t want every virgin in the city knocking on my door.”

  “Are you always such an idiot, Mr Spencer?”

  “It’s a talent.” He slides my dress down over my hips, letting it pool on the floor. He holds my hand and helps me step out of it.

  His eyes slowly drop to my toes as he drinks me in. I stand before him in a satin gold strapless bra and thong.

  “Holy mother of fuck, Charlotte,” he whispers in awe. “You are so beautiful.”

  He leans in and kisses me, his lips lingering over mine seeking permission. I wrap my arms around his neck and deepen our kiss.

  “I’m just going to take the lead here. You tell me if something doesn’t feel right, okay?” he breathes against my lips.

  I nod slowly.

  He kisses me, walking me back until we hit the bed, and then he lays me down and lies beside me, leaning up on his elbow. My body is snug up against his, and I can feel his erection against my hip.

  He kisses me, and with every slip of my tongue, his body moves to cover more of mine. His hands run over my bra and down over my underwear, and I can’t help but writhe beneath him.

  For a long time we kiss, and drink each other in. It’s perfect. With every flick of his tongue, every bite of my neck, I feel myself floating higher and higher. It’s like he has a manual to my body and knows exactly what to do to drive me crazy. I can’t get close enough.

  Our kisses turn frantic until he’s lying on top of me, his erection pressed against my sex. He’s hard, and his breathing is ragged. I feel out of control with this beautiful man on top of me.

  He feels so good.

  He leans and rests on one elbow, and with his eyes locked on mine, Spencer slides his hand into my underwear, sweeping his fingers through my wet, swollen flesh.

  “Fuck me, you’re so wet, baby,” he whispers. “You’re soaking.”

  I grip his forearm, eyes searching his. I should stop him… but I don’t want to.

  His fingers begin to circle my clitoris, and I begin to see stars.

  “Spence,” I moan, my back arching off the bed.

  This is something else. It’s not at all awkward or horrible like I’d imagined it could be.

  Spencer sits me up and reaches around to unclip my bra. His smile breaks free when his eyes drop to my full beasts. He leans down and kisses each of them in reverence. “So… beautiful.”

  He slowly slides my underwear down my legs, removing and discarding them to the side.

  “Fucking hell.” He groans, his hips driving forward without thought.

  I close my eyes to try and block him out. All of this adoration from him is frying my brain.

  I watch as his lips drop to my nipple, and he sucks carefully, his eyes closing.

  “Hell, Charlotte, you are fucking delicious.”

  I rock against him, our eyes are locked. His fingers circle and tease me, the sound of my arousal hanging in the air.

  Is being this wet normal?

  This is the weirdest thing. My body already knows what to do.

  “That’s it, angel,” he whispers. “Ride my fingers.”

  I pant and my legs clamp shut at once, but Spencer continues to circle… and circle, and… oh my fucking God.

  He pulls his fingers out, and I blink rapidly.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper, lifting my head from the pillow.

  “I’m going to slip into something more comfortable.” He smiles and throws me a sexy wink.

  I pant wildly, and my head flops back to the bed with a thud.

  That wink is the Devil at work, I swear. It could talk me into anything.

  “Keep your eyes on my face,” he instructs as he hops out of his pants.

  When he pulls down his briefs, my eyes widen in horror.

  “You’re an appalling liar, Spencer Jones. That is not the smallest dick in the world.” I gasp. “That’s the biggest.”

  His dick is large and hangs heavily between his legs. It’s dark pink and engorged with thick veins running down the length of it.

  Good God.

  Heaven help me. It looks scary… and hungry.

  “I told you not to look there.” He smirks. He digs in the pocket of his trousers and takes out three cond
oms, placing them on the side table.

  Oh my God, oh my God…

  He pushes me back down on the mattress, and then he kisses my breasts, my stomach, travelling lower and lower until I find myself cringing.

  “No, Spence,” I whisper, placing my hands on the back of his head.

  “What?” He looks up.

  I shake my head. “Not that. Not tonight.” God, that’s just too intimate. I can’t stand the thought of it.

  His face falls and I can see his disappointment, I internally kick myself. Damn it, …why did I say that?

  “Okay, baby,” he whispers softly.

  “I… I’m sorry.” I put my hand over my face.

  “Don’t be sorry.” He crawls back up to lie beside me, smiling as he leans onto his elbow and looks down on me.

  I run my fingers through his stubble and stare up at him.

  “You’re staring,” I whisper.

  “I know.” He leans down and kisses me. “You make me nervous, Charlotte.” He takes my hand and puts it over his heart where a hard, heavy thumping beats beneath my palm.

  My eyes search his. “Why would you be nervous?”

  “They were right. You are completely out of my league.”

  I smile softly. “Let’s just pretend it’s your first time, too.”

  He chuckles and rolls over me, never breaking our kiss.

  “How did you lose your virginity?” I ask him.

  He spreads my legs and pushes a finger inside of me. “You don’t want to know.”

  My mouth falls open…

  Oh God.

  Satisfaction flashes across his face as he watches me, and he adds another finger, grinding himself against my hip to relieve some of his own tension. Another finger is slipped inside of me, and my head falls back. Slowly in and slowly out, his circular movements stretch me. I can hear the sound of my arousal as he works my body.

  “Open your legs wider, angel,” he whispers.

  My body rocks from the pressure of his fingers, and I shudder. He slowly pulls his hand away.

  “You’re ready,” he whispers.

  I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. Am I?

  Will I ever be ready for this?

  He grabs a condom and rolls it on, and then with a succession of perfect kisses, Spencer rises above me.

  “I’m just going to go quick, angel, okay? There is no easy way. It will sting for only a moment, I promise you.”