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“No, let me?—”
Spencer whipped his belt off with one fluid motion, yanked it free of its buckle and his belt loops. He tossed it into the kitchen, all the way to the sink, and the buckle went clang on the stainless-steel tap. I barely heard it, caught up in Spencer, in the line of blond hair darkening as it strayed lower. I followed it down, jerked his pants down with it, and his cock sprang free as my robe fell away.
Spencer hissed through his teeth at the sight of my body. His hand dropped down to caress my bare back, only to freeze there as I swallowed him deep, gliding my lips down his velvet-smooth shaft.
“Izzy…”
I teased him with my tongue. Moaned at his taste. He bucked up, then caught himself before he could choke me.
“Hold me down,” he groaned, and I pinned him by one hip. I slid my other hand up his thigh and cupped his balls. I felt everything he did through his reactions, the hitch of his breath, a full-body shudder. The roughness of gooseflesh where my cheek grazed his thigh. He made a sound in his throat, half-groan, half-plea. I echoed that sound, and I felt his cock throb.
“Don’t— Mm, no, stop.”
I glanced up at him. “Hm?”
“I won’t last like this. Come on, get back up here.”
I thought about not stopping, not letting him last. But I didn’t want this to be over. I wanted more. I crawled up his body, my skin to his, and tangled my hands in his tousled hair. He opened his eyes.
“You got a rubber?”
“Yeah, in my nightstand.” I started to get up, but Spencer was faster. He rose off the couch with me in his arms, my legs wrapped around him, my chin on his shoulder. I felt the jerk-kick as he stepped out of his pants, heard his feet swish on carpet, then slap on tile. Then he was laying me down on my bed, pausing to admire my hair on the pillow. He smoothed it out where it straggled and leaned down to kiss me, and I heard plastic crinkle as he grabbed a condom. I reached down, impatient, to help roll it on, but he already had it.
“Last chance,” he whispered. “This what you want?”
I nodded, breathless. “Please.”
He thrust himself into me in one long, smooth stroke. I arched up to meet him, my nails down his back. My body moved on pure instinct, matching his rhythm, and soon there was nothing but the sound of our breath, the heat of our bodies, bare skin on skin. I felt my toes curl, and heat pooled inside me. My head swam. My heart raced. Sparks danced in my vision. My climax took me seconds before his hit, like he’d been waiting to fly over the edge. Waiting to feel me lose all control, to see my eyes roll back, my mouth gape with pleasure. Then he tensed against me and I heard him cry out. I felt his cock pulse and his breath catch and stop.
We collapsed together, sweating, entwined, and I didn’t feel anything close to regret. All I felt was a surge of bone-deep satisfaction, and on its heels, the need to do it again. We hadn’t talked about what this was, or what would come after — if this was a one-night thing, or if there’d be encores — but I had Spencer tonight, here in my arms. Here, real and solid, and kissing my neck.
For now, for tonight, nothing else mattered.
CHAPTER 3
SPENCER
My body clock woke me before dawn’s first light, Izzy’s alarm clock blinking four fifty. She’d rolled away to claim the bed for herself, and I suppressed a snicker at how much space she took up. She was a tall woman, long-limbed and svelte, and in sleep she had sprawled herself out on her back, arms flung wide to greet the new day. She’d stretched one leg out as well and kicked me away, all the way to the edge of the bed. To add insult to injury, she’d stolen the covers.
I raised myself on one elbow, watching her face, but she didn’t stir or open her eyes. She was beautiful sleeping, gentle. Her long, heavy lashes swept her smooth cheeks. Her hair, black as charcoal, spilled out around her, soft, lustrous curls tangled from sleep. I reached out to untangle them, then I pulled back. Last night had been… it had been… I had no words. Better than my fantasies. Better than reality? I pinched the back of my hand to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Izzy’s nose wrinkled, and she sighed in her sleep.
Last night had been electric. But what did it mean? Izzy knew me too well to want me for real. Me and relationships — she knew me. She’d seen. She’d seen how I botched them. How I’d try for a while, but it never felt right, then it fell apart and that was that. Done. She wouldn’t want that kind of pain for herself.
I nodded, though Izzy was still fast asleep. If she were awake, I knew what she’d say. Last night was amazing, but come on. We’re roommates. We’ve got it good here — you, me, and Leon. Let’s not throw a wrench in that over one crazy night.
I leaned in and kissed her on her forehead, half-hoping she would wake up, but she didn’t. Her sweet mouth quirked up, halfway to a smile, and then it faded. I eased myself up. I’d left my clothes in the living room, so I grabbed a towel from her hamper and headed back for my own room with it slung around my hips. I bumbled down the dark hall and around the corner, and nearly crashed into Leon coming out of the john.
“Sorry,” I croaked, meaning for all of it — my clothes on the floor, what I’d done with Izzy, the way he must’ve found out, coming home to our mess. To our sounds, maybe, if he’d come home last night. He frowned at me.
“Sorry? What are you sorry for?”
I hitched up my towel. “Uh… for, you know?—”
“I was hoping to catch you before I head to work. I tried to text you last night, but I don’t know what happened. I just checked my phone, and it never delivered.”
I stared at him, bleary. Did he not know? Wasn’t he wondering where I’d just come from, rumpled, half-naked, and smelling of sex?
“I hope you didn’t wait too long, last night at the bar.”
