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“When?”
“Since I met you. Your lips, you’re so…”
Whatever he’d meant to say, I cut it off with a kiss. I needed more of the taste of him, his lips chapped from cold. His cheeks rough with stubble. His hands in my hair. He lifted me and spun me and we hit the side of my bed. Our knees buckled together and we went down in a tangle, my hair in his face, his leg between mine. I grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him in closer. He groaned deep in his chest and rolled me onto my back.
“Hello,” he said, smiling down from above me.
I reared up, bit his lip, then kissed him again. Darted my tongue over the spot where I’d bit him. He shuddered against me. I slid my hand up his shirt, up the curve of his spine, and I felt it again, that strength he kept hidden. Muscles twitched and rippled as my palm grazed his skin. I could feel their shapes, their hard definition. His body was perfect, how he moved, how he was. How he felt stretched against me, his weight on my legs.
“I’ve thought of you too,” I said. “What you’d look like naked.” I traced the line of his scapula with the tip of my finger and found the gnarl of a scar there angling up to his shoulder. He’d got that in college, if memory served, a fall on the ice. A skate flying wild. He’d shrugged it off, the price of his passion. Now I kissed my fingers and pressed them to his shoulder. He took my hand and slid it up to his face.
“Pull my hair,” he said. “Twist it like last time.”
I twisted. “You like that?”
“Mm, yeah, feels good.” He rocked his hips up against me so I could feel just how good. I hooked my leg around him to trap him against me. We were so close, so entwined I felt when his heart raced. His cock swelled against me. His breath came quick and shallow. A wave of dizziness swept through me, and I realized I’d lost myself so completely that I’d forgotten to breathe. I panted as I stripped him, tore off his shirt, scrabbled his belt off him, pushed down his jeans. Spencer reached over me to rummage for a condom, then paused with his hand hanging out of the box.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah, hurry.”
He fumbled the condom and dropped it on the bedsheets. I snatched it up and tore off the wrapper. Spencer stiffened and moaned as I rolled it on him, thrust into my hand like he couldn’t help it. Then he was on me, and I was on him. He shoved my skirt up, my panties to one side. I grabbed his cock and guided him inside me. He was on top, then we flipped over, and he leaned up to caress my chest as I rode him. He thumbed over one nipple, then pinched it hard, and when I moaned for him, he pinched it again. I pinched him back and he bit his own wrist, muffling the sound of his choked-back pleasure.
“Want you…” he rasped.
“Well, you’ve got me right here.”
He flipped me over again, onto my back. Pinned me to the mattress with my wrists bunched together. I arched up against him and ground my hips in tight circles. Spencer made a rough sound, almost a growl. We hit a crescendo, our rhythm fast and urgent, and I grabbed his hair again, the nape of his neck. That pushed him over, and I tumbled with him, turning my head to scream into the pillow. If Spencer made a sound, I didn’t hear it, caught up as I was in my own climax.
When I came down from it, I snuggled into his arms. “Half an hour, right?”
He made a puzzled sound, a Neanderthal grunt.
“Half an hour’s basking, then you have to get out.”
“Mm, yeah. Damn rules.” He nosed up on my neck. “We need one of those… you know, from Doctor Who…”
I snorted. “A TARDIS?”
“Yeah, one of those. We’d just have a bed in there, and maybe a bathtub. Maybe a mini fridge, in case we got thirsty. But mostly a bed, and we’d go in there and do this. Spoon up for hours and not worry about Leon.”
I craned back to look at him. “Really?”
“What?”
“I’d never have taken you for this much of a cuddler.”
Spencer made a pff sound. “What, because I play hockey? Big, manly athlete can’t want a hug?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you thought it. Admit it.”
I had kind of thought it, if not in those words. I’d never thought he’d be the affectionate type. But having him draped over me was rather pleasant, all warm and comfy, his chin on my shoulder.
“I like it,” I said. “But don’t fall asleep.”
“I won’t,” Spencer said, and yawned on my neck. I yawned too, closed my eyes, and stretched out against him. It occurred to me I might want to set an alarm, just in case somehow we both drifted off, but I’d no sooner thought it than I was dreaming.
