So I talked and Spencer listened attentively, one hand gently massaging my scalp. He showed he was engaged in the conversation by asking the right questions at the right time, and even though his other hand had snaked under my sweater and T-shirt to rest lightly on that spot on my hip, he didn’t go any further.
He seemed happy just to listen, to share my excitement, and it was so reminiscent of our first night together that I suddenly looked up at him warily. “You’re not, like, cast in this movie too and I don’t know about it, right?”
Spencer laughed and kissed my temple, and I relaxed again.
“Nope. I promise. I don’t have anything lined up for a while. I’ve been working nonstop for pretty much the last eighteen months, so I’m taking a bit of a break.” He sobered and then used his hold on my hair to gently tug my head back to meet his gaze again. “I won’t keep anything from you again.”
He was so sincere. I nodded, and he let my head go; I could once again avert my gaze. He was talking as if we had a future. He’d said he wanted me to be his, but I wasn’t sure if that was something I wanted. And I wasn’t going to give it any thought tonight. Just lying here talking to him was too nice, and I didn’t want to concern myself with what happened next.
Chapter 12
After we spent the better part of the night talking and then fell asleep in each other’s arms, the following morning I snuck out of the house. And then spent the next few weeks desperate for his every phone call but purposefully not picking up when it was him. He left cheery messages, checking in, and I called him back when I knew he was most likely to be busy or asleep. I responded to his texts hours after he sent them, and a conversation that could have taken place in twenty minutes stretched on for days.
I really wasn’t playing games, and I knew it made me a total coward, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
I was still having trouble processing the shift in our relationship, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Well, I knew I wanted him physically. Sometimes all it took was one thought of us together and I was rock hard in seconds. But did I want more? I couldn’t be sure.
Spencer was proving himself to be unlike what I’d originally thought, but a part of me was still holding on to the hurt. Until I figured out what I wanted, I didn’t want to give him too much of me. Because I was scared to.
If Spencer knew what I was doing, he didn’t give any indication. He acted as though my lags between responses were completely normal. And while some of them were—I was shooting a movie, after all—it was nowhere close to what I was pretending. The thing was, Spencer made movies too, so I knew he couldn’t be so naive as to think I was always that busy. He must be letting it happen, allowing me to have the space I needed without letting me forget him entirely. He knew what I needed and was giving it to me.
That, more than anything, was working to change my perception of him.
Using my family as an excuse while on break worked too, but I made more of an effort to talk to him when he called Christmas Eve. When my phone made the peculiar ring indicating an incoming FaceTime call, I jumped up and ran from the room, shooing off my sister and hiding in the back hall to talk to him. I’d just flicked on the light when the call connected.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” he said, relief and happiness all over his face.
“Merry Christmas.” I grinned without meaning to. He was beautiful as always, but his huge smile, as if he was just so happy to see me, nearly made my knees buckle. “How are you? Have you had a good day?”
“I have. It’s so good to see you. How are you?”
“Cold,” I answered truthfully, and his belly laugh warmed my insides. “We moved to California with my dad when I was twelve, and I only come back here at Christmastime. But I still forget about the snow and the bitter cold.”
“Just you, your dad, and your sister moved, right?”
We’d talked a little about our families that night a few weeks ago, but we hadn’t gotten too in-depth. I nodded. “Yep. After my parents divorced. He’s originally from California.”
“Your mom just let you go?”
There was no accusation there, just curiosity. I didn’t have a problem answering him the way I did when nosy, intrusive, gossipmongers asked the same thing.
“My mom was never cut out to have kids. She loves us, and she took care of us, but we all do better with a long-distance relationship. She was always better at the weekend thing.”
“Sounds like it was the best situation for all of you, then.”
Tension I didn’t even know I was holding released from my shoulders. So many people had been judgmental about the situation. What they didn’t understand was exactly what Spencer did, that moving to the other side of the country with my father, seeing my mother occasionally, and talking on the phone, had been the best thing for all of us. It worked. That he got it made me feel better in a way I hadn’t anticipated.
In the background someone shouted his name and he pulled a face that made me laugh.
“Listen,” he said. “I gotta go. There’s some sort of pageant my niece is in. But I wanted to talk to you. See you. Wish you a merry Christmas.” He got that soft look on his face again.
My stomach fluttered with butterflies. “I’m glad you called. I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Have fun at your niece’s thing.”
“Bye, baby.”
After that, I was more apt to pick up the phone when he called if I was at all able. Sometimes I hesitated, but hearing his understanding and nonjudgmental attitude about my situation growing up had loosened one of the blocks inside me and made me more willing to trust him.
We finished filming on February 2, and after a wrap party of epic proportions, I was on a plane back home. Rachel had once again been taking care of my house in my absence, so she picked me up at the airport. She was hoping for a paparazzi attack. My sister was amazing, but she loved riding the coattails of my fame and having her picture show up on social media and in the rags, even if she was more often than not simply referred to as my sister. She was disappointed no one had recognized me, but the slouchy beanie, oversized sweatshirt, and aviators I was wearing obscured me enough that no one noticed.
As was our custom, Rachel hung around that night and we ate Thai takeout while I regaled her with stories from filming. One of these times, I’d have to fly her in to visit while I was working. She’d visited me on set when it was local before, but we’d never gotten together while I was on location. She’d get a kick out of it. But it wouldn’t be anytime soon, because I’d told Lou a couple of weeks ago I would be taking a little time off. Surprisingly, he didn’t have that big of a problem with it and said he’d start looking for projects that were shooting farther out.
* * * *
Rachel woke me the next morning with a steaming mug of coffee, to tell me she was heading back home. Before she left, she reminded me that she’d found a tiny one-bedroom closer to downtown and I was expected to help her move in at the end of the month.
I promised I’d be there.
Since I was awake and not feeling too fatigued, I flipped on the TV to the local morning show, Wake Up LA. I’d done my very first interview with the show years ago, and even though it was more publicity and gossip than an actual news show, I still had a soft spot in my heart for it. I caught the tail end of a story about an escaped llama who’d been wreaking havoc in Torrance and laughed out loud at the footage of the tall, shaggy, brown-and-white animal evading everyone who tried to wrangle it.
The anchor, Katie Wright, gave a saucy wink to the camera and said she was on the llama’s side, then turned to their guest to ask his opinion.
And Spencer Johns filled the screen.
I actually moaned at the sight of him. He was looking even more delicious than normal, with blond scruff covering his cheeks and jaw and his hair carefully mussed. I didn’t even care they were discussing his starring role in Shadow Jumper, because he looked so relaxed and beautiful. He was charming and modest, but confident at t
he same time. If he’d been in my room instead of just on the TV, I would have dropped to my knees and blown him.
I still didn’t know exactly what to do about him. Though we’d talked a lot in the time I’d been gone, it hadn’t been about anything of substance. I knew him better than ever, and there was something amazing about that. But what we hadn’t discussed was anything about us, about our relationship.
Or whether we even had one.
That last night at Vincent’s, Spencer had made it sound like he wanted more. Part of our distance over the past few months had been my doing, and I certainly hadn’t brought up our future in any way, shape, or form. But neither had he. He seemed perfectly content to keep us on the surface. I had no idea what it meant, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask. No way was I going to open myself up to that if I didn’t know he was already there. Not again.
When Spencer’s interview finished, I snapped off the TV and forced myself out of bed. Rachel and the cleaning service had kept my house spotless in my absence, and the lawn service kept my backyard in perfect condition, so I couldn’t quell my sudden restlessness with any sort of physical work. I’d have to do something else.
I donned shorts and a tank top, and went outside. The air was crisp and cool, a little too cold to be in so few clothes, but I liked the bite in the air. Slowly and methodically, I worked through an hour’s worth of yoga poses, feeling the stretch as my muscles worked. It had been too long since I’d done this, and I was sweating by the time I finished. But I was nowhere near as settled as I usually was when I finished a session. I stepped back inside for socks, sneakers, and my earbuds, then found a playlist full of songs with hard beats and pulsing base lines, walked out of my front door, and started to run.
By the time I made it back two hours later, I was too fucking exhausted to care about anything. I hydrated, made a smoothie with protein powder, took a shower, and crashed for the rest of the day.
* * * *
When I woke again, I felt better. More like myself and settled in my skin. It was early evening, and I was starving. I didn’t feel like cooking and wasn’t in the mood to order in. Searching my fridge, I found the makings for a Cobb salad, and some leftover chicken that smelled fine. Rachel was big on chicken, so I knew it couldn’t be that old. I threw it on top of the salad, ate the whole thing, and drank about a gallon of water.
I’d just settled onto the couch and brought up Netflix on my huge TV, when the doorbell rang. I abandoned my search for something suitable to watch and went to answer it. I’d learned a long time ago to check who was there before opening the door. Although I didn’t have reporters or photographers showing up so much since I’d moved to Los Feliz, it still happened occasionally. And when it did, I was invariably wearing something ratty. As I was tonight. I padded on bare feet into front hall, vowing to myself that if I didn’t know who was on the other side, I wasn’t answering.
It took me seconds to recognize Spencer’s face, and I fumbled the deadbolt as I tried to get it to turn. Finally I pulled the door open.
“What are you doing here?” The words came out of my mouth without thought.
Spencer just grinned hugely and took a step forward. “I wanted to see you. Can I come in?”
I backed up to allow him entrance, then shut and locked the door behind him. As I turned to face him, he grabbed me and pulled me into his embrace. I stiffened for just a second, but his warmth and smell washed over me, and I melted into him. I didn’t know how this could feel so right after everything, but it did.
He pulled back after a long moment, then cupped my face and bent to give me a sweet, slow, heat-filled kiss. When we broke apart, I had trouble catching my breath, which wasn’t improved when I saw the look on his face: lust, want, affection—it was all there, plain as day. And I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it either.
I skimmed my fingers along his smooth, square jaw. “You shaved.”
“Hmm?”
“I saw you this morning, looking all scruffy and delicious on Wake Up LA.” I leaned up to kiss his smooth cheek, lingering for a moment. “I might like this better.”
Spencer let out a small moan stepped into me, and pushed one of his thighs between mine. His voice was barely more than a low rumble. “I missed you. I almost showed up last night, but I wanted to give you time to settle. And I thought your sister might still be hanging out.”
That sentence made my stomach flip. I didn’t know why hearing him talk about Rachel, knowing we had a tradition of catching up when I got home, meant so much to me. But it did.
It suddenly meant everything.
“I missed you,” I breathed, then grabbed his head and pulled it down until our lips met in a fierce, devouring kiss.
The heat engulfed us. We tore at each other’s clothing, leaving a trail as we fumbled our way to my bedroom. I wasn’t even sure how we managed to get naked. We couldn’t seem to stop kissing, feasting on each other with mouths and hands, but when he shoved me down onto the mattress, we were both blissfully bare. He attacked my neck, sucking and biting, leaving marks, and I writhed and moaned under his ministrations. I was so hard it was painful, and our cocks were leaving stick trails of precum on my skin. I pushed him off me so I could grab the lube and condoms, and he took them from me as soon as I rolled back.
“How do you want it?” Spencer’s voice was tires on gravel, and I whimpered.
“Like this,” I admitted, not even embarrassed. “I want to see you.”
He growled his approval and snapped open the lube.
Though it had been months since we’d had sex, my body opened to his questing fingers as if they belonged in my ass. It didn’t take long for me to be ready, spreading my legs as far as I could and begging for his cock. Spencer pulled his fingers free, fumbled with the condom packet, and then finally smoothed the latex down his straining red shaft. He added just a bit more lube to the outside, grabbed my knees and shoved them toward my chest, then sank into me.
I shouted his name, scrabbling at the mattress as he began to thrust, not even giving me a chance to adjust.
Our fucking was as frantic and heat-filled as always, but the way he held my gaze as his body powered into mine gave it a whole new layer. It was intense—meaningful, even—and I wanted to close my eyes to hide from it. Only I couldn’t seem to look away. I took the pounding, staring into his beautiful brown eyes.
It wasn’t long before I felt the tightening in my stomach and the tingling in my spine signaling my impending orgasm. I didn’t even need to reach between us and grab my cock. Spencer was nailing me just right, the angle perfect, and if he kept it up, I was going to come.
As if he knew that, he changed his pattern. Short, hard thrusts, pounding against my gland, and I was screaming and coming all over myself. My body clenched around him, my muscles locked and my back arched as I shot. I didn’t know how he could keep moving with how tight my ass was squeezing him, but he did. Then he froze, and I felt him pulse and fill the condom.
He collapsed on top of me when he was done, burying his face against my neck, and I was so spent I couldn’t even lift my arms to hold him. I turned my head and kissed his sweaty hair, breathing him in and riding the aftershocks. My ass hurt since his fat dick still lodged inside me, and soon, I would be too sensitive to endure it. But until then, I was just content to feel him.
Spencer groaned, gently bit my shoulder, then slowly lifted his head. His grin was huge, his eyes a little unfocused, and he kissed me soundly before pushing himself up on his arms.
“You ready, baby?”
I liked that he asked, and did my best to relax. I nodded, and he reached between us to make sure he had a hold of the condom, and then, because he was thick, he slid out ever so gently.
He kissed me again, then went into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wash up.
A few minutes later, he returned with a warm, wet washcloth and proceeded to clean me too. I was perfectly capable of doing that myself, and I was a little e
mbarrassed when he wiped the excess lube from my ass before cleaning up the cooling and congealing cum from my stomach.
“So…” he began conversationally. He set the cloth on the nightstand, then lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Are we going to move on?”
Dread pooled in my stomach and chased away what was left of the afterglow. I swallowed hard, then lifted my arm and draped it over my eyes to hide from his intense stare. I should have known it was too good to be true. He didn’t want anything real. Just like the first time. It was just fucking, and he was done with it.
I took a moment to answer because I wanted to sound flippant and not like my heart was broken. “Sure. I’ve got you out of my system now.”
There was a beat of silence.
And then his voice was a low growl. “Fuck you, Alex.”
Not the reaction I was expecting. I cautiously lowered my arm to see him brutally yanking on his jeans. I sat up fast, but he was already storming out of the room. I scrambled out of bed after him. The front door slammed violently.
I sat down hard on the edge of the mattress.
What the fuck just happened?
Chapter 13
I was still sitting there ten minutes later, my heart pounding hard enough to break out of my chest, when the door opened again. I jerked my head up, then stood and raced out of the bedroom. I slammed into Spencer just outside the bedroom door, and he grabbed my shoulders to steady me.
Something Like Want Page 9
