Mr Spencer

by Swan, T L

She doesn’t love me enough.

  I throw her letter into the flames and watch it slowly burn as the melody comes to an end.

  Dream catch me when I fall.

  Or else I won’t come back at all.

  I dig in my pocket and take out the engagement ring that I bought her. All I can do is stare at it.

  I had so much hope and so many dreams for us when I picked it.

  Cheers erupt in the distance, and I look up to see the fireworks going off over the water.

  It’s midnight—the end of one year, the beginning of another. A celebration for most.

  The end of the world for me.

  I walk to the balcony’s edge, and I stare at the diamond ring through tears. The lump in my throat is painful.

  Anger surges through me, and I throw the ring as hard as I can over the cliff.

  I watch it bounce from the rocks and disappear into the night. Emotion overtakes me, and I sob, my breath quivering with every breath I suck in.

  “Happy New Year. Happy fucking New Year.”

  26

  Charlotte

  Fourteen hours earlier

  I look up at the board and I read the dreaded words.

  Flight delayed.

  “No.” I turn to Anthony. “It’s delayed.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Find us another flight, please,” I say as I begin to panic. “Why did I send that damn letter with Wyatt?” I whisper angrily. “What on earth was I thinking?”

  “Please try and call Wyatt again. He can’t deliver it. He just can’t.”

  “He’s in the air, he has no service.” Anthony shakes his head, silently saying I told you this ten times already before he disappears to the front desk to try and organise flights.

  I drop to my seat with my head in my hands. I get a vision of my beautiful Spencer alone on his birthday waiting for me.

  Why the hell did I take so long to get my shit together?

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  I don’t have my phone because I threw my SIM in the water during my delusional tantrum. Anthony’s phone isn’t working here as we are in another country, so I can only call Spencer from a payphone.

  I’ve been trying for an hour but he’s not picking up. Presumably because he doesn’t know the number.

  Anthony reappears, his face solemn.

  “Any luck?” I ask.

  “I can get us on a flight in another hour and a half.”

  “Oh, great, do that.”

  “But it has another stopover, so it will actually get us to Santorini later than the original one.”

  “Oh my God. I’ve ruined everything,” I whisper in a panic. “It’s his birthday today.”

  “It’s only early morning there. We’ll make it.”

  “We won’t get there in time. You know we won’t.”

  Anthony exhales heavily, and I know that’s his way of agreeing with me.

  “Call my father. Send the jet. I need his plane urgently.”

  “By the time it fuels up and gets here, the flight we’re on will be quicker.”

  “Why the hell are they delaying all the flights?”

  He puts his arm around me. “Just calm down. We have three hours until we board and then a fourteen-hour flight. You’ll have a heart attack before you get there at this rate.”

  “This is a nightmare. No wonder people complain about flying commercial. I had no idea the delays were so bad.”

  He smirks as he watches the flight board, and I know I just sounded like a complete spoiled brat. “I think you need a drink.” He sighs.

  “No, what I need is to try and call Spencer again.” I march over to the public phones and get in line. This is all my fault.

  Please pick up the phone, Spence. Please pick up.

  Nineteen hours later

  The cab pulls into the driveway, and a heavy sense of dread rests on my shoulders as I stare at the darkened villa.

  I missed his birthday. Wyatt was still in the air when we boarded, so I couldn’t tell him not to give him the letter. When I wrote it and sent Wyatt before Sheridan came to me, I thought I was doing the right thing by setting him free—giving him closure to start the New Year fresh.

  In hindsight, I was just so hurt at his past that I couldn’t think clearly, and I will never forgive myself for putting him through that.

  I squeeze Anthony’s hand. “Wish me luck,” I whisper.

  He gives me a lopsided smile. “Good luck.”

  We get out of the car and I walk up to the front door. I turn the handle and realise it’s open. He’s here.

  “Stay out here, please,” I whisper.

  “I don’t thi—”

  “Stay here,” I cut him off.

  I walk through the villa. The small lamps are on, but the main lights are off. It’s just as I remembered it, only a lot sadder this time. He must be asleep. I walk into the bedroom but the bed is empty, still made. He hasn’t been to bed yet but his bags and things are here. I check the other bedrooms and then walk out into the living area.

  He’s on the balcony. My heart begins to race as I make my way out there. It’s 4:40 a.m. local time, and the sky is just starting to brighten.

  It’s eerily quiet. The fire pit has glowing red embers as the last of the fire dies out, and a bottle of scotch is empty on the table.

  Spencer’s not here.

  I walk over to the balcony rail and look down at the view over the cliff. All I can see is darkness as the sea breeze whips my hair around. For a long time, I stand and peer over the cliff.

  I get a vision of him spending his birthday alone, and my heart hurts.

  Wyatt.

  I hope he’s with Wyatt. Yes. My hope returns. Hopefully Wyatt and him went out.

  I hope they painted the town red.

  I’m exhausted, so maybe I’ll just go to bed. He’ll be back soon, I try to comfort myself.

  Yes, shower and bed.

  I turn to walk inside, and I stop dead in my tracks.

  Spencer is sitting in the dark up against the wall, his cold eyes fixed firmly on me.

  He has a glass of scotch in his hand.

  “Spence,” I whisper.

  He glares at me as he sips his drink.

  “Spencer.” I smile hopefully. “I’m here, baby. I’m sorry.”

  “Get out.” He sneers.

  My face falls. “What?”

  “I said get the fuck out.” His voice is gravely and distorted. He’s really drunk.

  I step back, affronted by his tone. “I understand why you’re angry,” I whisper through tears.

  He sips his drink, the look on his face murderous.

  “Spence, we can work through this,” I whisper.

  He sips his drink again but remains silent.

  “I love you.”

  “Don’t!” he snaps. “Don’t. Don’t you dare fucking say that to me.”

  “It’s true.”

  He steps forward and leans in so that his face is only an inch away from mine.

  “Get out of my fucking face,” he growls.

  Fear runs through me. I’ve never seen him like this.

  “Spencer.”

  “Get out!” he screams at the top of his voice.

  My eyes fill with tears.

  I go to wrap my arms around him, but he pulls away.

  “Don’t fucking touch me.” He throws his glass at the wall and it smashes into a thousand pieces.

  I put my hands on my head in shock.

  From my peripheral vision, I see Anthony sneaking around inside, watching… waiting to see what happens. Spencer is too drunk and way too furious.

  “When you’re feeling better, we need to talk please,” I whisper through tears.

  “I’ve got nothing to fucking say to you.” He storms inside and trips on the step, nearly falling over. Thankfully, he doesn’t see Anthony, and he disappears into his bedroom. The door slams hard.

  I close my eyes as my heart races wildly.

&nbs
p; What the hell was that?

  Adrenaline is coursing through my body and Anthony comes out. “You can go,” I tell him, embarrassed by what he just saw.

  “I’m not leaving you here with him in that state.”

  I sit down at the fire pit and stare at the red embers. The sun is coming over the horizon now. I pick up a blanket and wrap it around me. It’s cold and chilly… just like my welcome.

  How hurt must he be to be acting like that? That is as far from his personality as he could possibly be.

  What have I done?

  For half an hour, I stare at the fire, my mind in overdrive. Eventually, as exhaustion begins to take over, I can’t fight my eyelids any longer. I go inside to the bedroom to find Spencer naked and fast asleep on his back.

  I walk back out to Anthony who is on the sofa. “He’s asleep. You can go sleep in the spare room at the end of the hall. I’ll sleep in the other one.”

  “You sure?” He frowns.

  I nod and take his hand. “Thank you for looking after me so well.”

  He smiles sadly and then smirks as if remembering something. “Where the fuck is Wyatt?”

  “Hopefully he’s having more fun than we are.”

  He chuckles. “This is one fucked up New Year’s Eve.”

  I smile. “Right?”

  He gets up and walks in to check on Spencer before he walks around and locks everything up.

  “Goodnight, Charlotte,” he says.

  “Goodnight.” I sit for a long time and watch the sun slowly rise through the windows. It’s like the world has gone into slow motion, and I know more than anything that I need to make this right. I walk into Spencer’s bedroom and take a long hot shower. Once clean and naked, I crawl into bed beside him.

  He smells like he’s tipped a bottle of scotch over his body. I could get drunk from the fumes alone, but I don’t care. I wrap my arm around him and put my head on his shoulder, throwing my top leg over his. I gently kiss his chest, and with the familiarity of his warm body up against mine, I drift into an exhausted slumber.

  * * *

  I wake to the light beaming through the window. My eyes flutter to fight against it.

  Spencer is still fast asleep, flat on his back, and I roll onto my side to watch him.

  His large arms are up behind his head. My eyes drop down over his broad chest and rippled stomach, and then lower down over the well-kept pubic hair onto my favourite body part of his.

  His cock is standing to attention up against his stomach. It’s big, beautiful, and ready to fuck. I smile at the sight of it. Even in deep sleep he is the perfect specimen.

  Unable to help it, I kiss his chest, and then his bicep as my fingers trail down his abdomen and keep moving lower. I feel my arousal creep in as my fingers run through his pubic hair.

  God, he’s beautiful. I’ve missed him so much.

  My fingers wrap around his thick length, and his lips part as he sleeps. “Oh, I could make you feel so good, baby,” I whisper to myself.

  I stroke him, and he inhales and spreads his legs as if granting me permission. I stroke him again and pre-ejaculate beads on the end of his head. “Do you need me, baby?” I murmur against his chest. “Because I need you.”

  His legs spread wider and I begin to feel my pulse between my own legs. It’s been a long time since we touched each other. I felt like a part of me was missing. I slowly kiss down his abdomen and over his hip bones. I kiss his cock, and it flexes under my lips. I smile as I lick up the thick length of it.

  He moans as he stirs, his knees parting and falling to the mattress.

  Oh, I need him. I know he’s angry with me, but what a great way to make up. I take him into my mouth and my tongue swirls around the tip. He inhales sharply in his sleep, and I smile around him.

  “You like that, baby?” I take him deeper and deeper, building a rhythm, and my mouth becomes flooded with pre-ejaculate.

  I begin to lose control and take him deeper, when he suddenly jumps awake with a start.

  His eyes meet mine and I stop what I’m doing, waiting for his reaction.

  Is he going to push me away?

  I smile softly around his cock, and he clenches his jaw as he watches me, his hands still above his head.

  Okay, he didn’t push me away. I’ll keep going. I take him deeper, and my hand begins to stroke him as it follows my lips.

  He inhales sharply, and I can tell he’s close. I can feel his cock quivering under my tongue.

  “I missed you,” I whisper around him.

  His dark eyes hold mine. I begin to flick my tongue over the end of him, something I know forces him to either come or fuck. He has nowhere to go when I do this. He can’t hide.

  His body convulses. He grabs two handfuls of my hair to hold me in place and he begins to fuck my mouth with deep pumps. I gag at how rough he’s being and pull off him. Saliva streams from my lips to his cock.

  “Fuck.” He moans at the sight of it. “Fucking hell.”

  Before I know what’s happening, he flips me and has me pinned to my back, my legs spread wide.

  His dark eyes hold mine as he slides in deep with one hard thrust.

  My body convulses, and he pulls out only to slam back into me even harder. “Ouch, Spence,” I whisper. “Be careful.”

  He flips me onto my knees. “Famous last words,” he growls as he slaps me hard on the behind and slams in deep, driving me into the mattress.

  Oh shit!

  He has a handful of my hair in one hand, while the other is holding my shoulder as he slams my body back onto his.

  I can feel him so deep inside of me, and he’s so thick. He’s getting faster and faster, and, oh God, I can’t deal with how rough he’s being. But damn, I need this. The sound of our skin slapping together is echoing around the room.

  “Spence,” I moan as the air is knocked from me. “Oh God.”

  He grabs my shoulder and pushes me down to the mattress. His cock reaches a new, deeper place. A guttural moan leaves my body, and he slaps me on the behind again.

  “Take it.” He hisses. “Take it.”

  I clench and scream into the pillow as I see stars, my body thumping as an orgasm tears through me. He keeps working me at such a fast pace. I can only grip the sheets beneath me and feel the stretching burn of his possession. He holds himself deep and throws his head back, and I feel the jerk of his cock deep inside of me.

  But instead of the tender strokes he usually empties himself with, this time is different. He continues to fuck me hard, banging pumps, as if my body is only a tool that he’s using to empty his pleasure into.

  There is no emotion in his touch.

  It’s as cold as ice.

  With each hit, my tears form. This is foreign to me—so different to how we usually make love.

  It’s like he’s a stranger.

  He slaps me on the behind once more, and then he pulls out. Without a word, he gets up and walks into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

  I lie in shock, my body still quivering from the orgasm I just had. My breathing is ragged as I gasp for air.

  Dear God, what the hell was that?

  I roll over onto my back and stare at the ceiling through my blurred vision.

  Fuck this.

  I get up and storm into the bathroom. He’s in the shower, soaping up.

  “What the hell was that?” I demand.

  He glares at me. “I’d like to fucking know, too.”

  I scowl in confusion. “What do you mean? You just fucked me like you don’t even know me.”

  “That’s because I don’t fucking know you.”

  My face falls. “Spence.”

  “You’re too late,” he barks, and my heart drops. He’s so hurt.

  “Baby.” I step under the water and wrap my arms around him. “I love you. I’m so sorry. I had to work this out by myself, and it took longer than I thought it would. I couldn’t get a flight, and then I spent all day calling you. Why didn’t you a
nswer your damn phone?” I blurt out.

  He stands rigid, his hands down by his sides.

  My eyes search his and I cup his cheeks. “Can we talk and work this out together?”

  “The time for talking was last week, Charlotte. You’ve put me though fucking Hell.”

  “I know,” I whisper. “I’ve been to Hell and back myself.”

  He gets out of the shower in a rush. “I don’t want to fucking see you.”

  “Don’t say that,” I plead as I reach for him. “I missed you.”

  He stares at me.

  I stand on my tiptoes and softly kiss his lips. I take his arms and wrap them around me. “I love you, Spencer Jones. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”

  “How could you do this to me?” he asks quietly, his voice breaking. “I didn’t know she was married. I swore that to you.”

  “I know.” My eyes fill with tears. “You have no idea how hard this has been on me, Spence. I’m so devastated at how things turned out.”

  “You think I fucking liked it?” he cries.

  “I know that, too. I don’t know how to get over this, but I do know that I can’t live without you. I tried and I couldn’t.”

  He stares at me.

  “Let me stay, spend the week with you, and we will try and…” I pause as I articulate my feelings. “We’ll try and work through this together.”

  “No.”

  “No pressure to get back together. I just need time with you,” I plead, and I try to pull us back under the water.

  He frowns, as if remembering something.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I think I threw your engagement ring over the cliff.”

  “What?” I frown. “You had an engagement ring?” My heart freefalls from my chest as I imagine him waiting with it and my eyes fill with tears. “Oh my God, Spence, I’ve ruined everything.”

  “Yes. You did. In spectacular fashion.”

  I feel a tiny bit of his resistance begin to cave, and I lean up and kiss him softly. Our lips linger over each other’s and my tongue gently slips through his open mouth.

  “I love you so much,” I breathe.

  Our kiss deepens, and I feel the emotion run back through us like a lifeline.