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I arched my eyebrow at her. “I was just about to say the same,” I said, feeling myself harden again, still inside her, as I leaned forward. “And I should probably warn you, my cock is ready for round two.”
“Trying to scare me, handsome?” she said with a laugh.
“More like preparing you for the night ahead,” I smirked, then my lips found hers while we both moaned, knowing this night was just getting kicked into the right gear.
Chapter Five
NAT
When my eyes fluttered open the next morning, it took a moment before I was able to fully comprehend where I was. The stunning, glittering pattern cast over the water reminded me of the diamonds that might be scattered over a jeweler’s felt, adding sparkling dimension to the ocean that spread out beyond Spencer’s bedroom.
Right. Spencer Monroe.
I stretched out in the enormous Alaskan king bed, luxuriating in the feeling of the Egyptian cotton sateen against the skin that had been kissed, licked, and touched in every conceivable way the night before.
I should say, throughout the whole night before. I don’t think there was a spare moment where he wasn’t touching me, or I wasn’t feeling him, or we weren’t running our tongues over each other, or some part of him wasn’t inside me in some way. I was overly impressed by Spencer’s stamina, and because I was highly critical of anyone who attempted to satiate my sexual needs, it wasn’t easy to impress me.
All that said, that’s what I was taking away from this experience: great sex and the possibility that I wouldn’t reject another offer of a night like that with him. Was I going to attach myself emotionally? Fuck no. It was off-the-charts sex, and that was it.
I smiled as I sat up, letting the sheet fall and exposing my skin to the chilly air of the room, indulging in the feeling of goosebumps as they came up all over my body. I wove my fingers together and stretched them out, leaning into the stretch before I thought to check my cell phone. I nearly lunged over to the bedside table, but there was nothing.
Shit, that’s right. My cell phone was submarined yesterday in the pool, which was why I’d come over here in the first place. Strangely, as my eyes singled on the bedside table, I wasn’t nearly as stressed out by the idea of my phone being unusable now as I’d been last night, but that was probably because all the stress had been worked out of me in my favorite way.
“Hey.”
I looked up to see Spencer standing in the doorway, looking sexy as fuck, wearing nothing but a pair of dark trousers, and holding a tray.
Shit, this man had abs of fucking steel that reminded me of feeling and licking every hard ridge of his body.
“Please tell me that that tray has something I can lick off your body,” I said with an eyebrow arch.
He grinned at me. “Just coffee here, but there’s Nutella in the kitchen. Would that suit your needs?”
“Perfectly,” I said. “I hope you know that I’m particular about my coffee and—”
“You like a semi-dry cappuccino with macadamia milk and an extra shot?” he said, leaving me to study him in silence. “Way ahead of you, my little vixen.”
“First of all, no more silly pet names. They turn me off.”
He raised his eyebrows, “We have rules for fucking now?”
I met his sexy, challenging gaze with one of my own, “When it comes to sex, I pride myself in breaking the rules, Spencer Monroe.”
“Excellent,” he answered, walking over to me. “I, too, pride myself in breaking the rules, even your petty ones.” I realized then that I probably should’ve never mentioned that the pet names turned me off. Mainly because they did, and now this guy would likely use them, believing he was breaking sex rules.
Oh, what-the-fuck-ever.
“How do you know how I like my coffee?” I questioned, more concerned about that than goofy names.
“I have my ways,” he said, setting the tray down on the bed and handing the coffee cup to me.
“Nice try, Casanova. You texted Bree and Alex.” I sipped at the coffee, keeping a perfectly straight face, refusing to let on that the coffee was perfect. “I hope they gave you shit for it too. I certainly would’ve.”
“I’m sure you would’ve. Oh, speaking of texting,” he held out a small rectangular box. “You’re back on the grid,” he said as I took the box from him.
I raised my eyebrow before lifting the cover off the plain black box and sucking in a breath.
It was a brand-new iPhone, so new that I didn’t think this model was even commercially available yet, and the back was in a beautiful slate blue that I hadn’t seen before.
