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“I’ll be fine until we get to the house,” he said, smiling charmingly at me. “I’d take off my shoes, but I don’t feel like carrying any more stuff.”
“Fair enough.”
Strangely, the feeling of being at war with this man had temporarily faded. My tone and his both had changed. It was as if, for the first time since he fucked up, I was possibly willing to finally let this shit go. If I were honest, the grudge I’d been holding onto with this sexy as sin on a Sunday man was pointless and truthfully served no purpose.
“I really am sorry,” Spencer said, tucking one of his hands into his pocket as he reached his other hand to the back of his head. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Are you sure?” I looked to the side, biting down on my lip as I took in the gorgeous man and his wet clothes. “I figured you were jealous about me making plans for tonight and decided to overreact by destroying my property.”
My mood had changed entirely, burdens lifted, and my daring, challenging, and flirty nature returned gloriously.
“You were making plans with someone for tonight?” Spence asked curiously.
“Yep,” I said with a smack of my lips. “Nice guy. You’d like him. Really knows how to be present; you know what I’m saying?”
I may be letting shit slide internally about Spence insulting me in bed, but there was no way in hell I’d let that show on the surface. Spencer would hear about this until I decided I would allow him to make it right. You know, the second chance stuff?
He blinked at me a few times. “So, you’re saying this guy never has—”
“Checked his phone while fucking me?” I tilted my head to the side, giving him one of the half smiles I’d fixed on him the night we met. “Nope. To date, you’re the only one who’s had that dubious honor.”
“You realize that I was trying to close a deal you were asking me about, right?”
“And you had to do it at that exact moment? Mid-thrust?”
“God, you’re annoying,” he said with a sigh, and I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me as we came up to the little door that sat on the beach, preventing passersby from walking up the steps onto his private property.
Walking up to the back door, he typed in the code on the keypad and held up his thumb, which he pressed onto a little panel to be scanned.
“High-tech,” I murmured as he held open the little door for me, letting me walk up the steps ahead of him.
“Thanks,” he said. “Security was important for me when I bought this place, given that it had beach access.”
“I’d imagine that it would be a concern for many residents,” I said, my real estate mind already turning and thinking about how I could make security into a high selling point for the homes that ran up the coast.
I was so lost in thought that I’d barely noticed Spencer had paused at the glass sliding door that led to his pool deck and was taking off his wet shoes and socks. As soon as he’d rid himself of the footwear, he gave a sigh of relief as he flexed his toes back and forth and then proceeded to take off the soaking-wet shirt.
I opened my mouth to tell him something before I lost complete control of my thoughts, watching Spencer unbutton his pants and shuck them off, draping them over the lounge chair that sat closest to the back door.
I had to take a second to gather my thoughts as I took him in, doing my best to swallow as I scoped out the perfectly-cut frame that stood in front of me, clothed in nothing but a pair of slate-gray boxer briefs.
I might’ve done my best not to think about him since we’d hooked up, but there was definitely a reason why I’d nicknamed him Sexy Spence and referred to him as such ever since. Insult or not, he was sexy as fuck.
All the guys in this little group—otherwise known as the Billionaires’ Club—were gorgeous, and when I said gorgeous, I meant legitimate showstoppers. Every single one of them looked like they could’ve either been a movie star or on the cover of a romance novel, but there was something about Spencer that managed to kick my hormones into overdrive every time I saw him. It was something I’d done my best to ignore since the last time I was thrust into his presence. My policy was always to maintain a standard of self-respect and to never fuck anyone who showed me less respect than I showed myself, which eliminated the possibility of us fucking again.
It might not be as big an insult to other people, but it had been enough for me to say never again.
Fuck, why was I being so wishy-washy with this asshole? One minute I’m down for giving second-fucking-chances, and now I’m standing my ground again?
Jesus, what the hell was going on with me? I was spinning out, losing my grip. And why? I knew exactly why. I was alone with this man, and I was practically being thrown into menopause with constant unexpected emotional hormone swings.
Is it warm out here? I thought, feeling a hot flash coming on while the crisp beachy air blew against my face.
“You okay there?”
I blinked a few times, looking up at Spencer. He was watching me from a wooden cabinet beside the pool, where he’d pulled out a towel and started running it all over himself.
I’m so fucked! I thought, feeling like I was freezing. Is this shit normal? Am I fucking dying or something?
