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“You wouldn’t even let me sleep over.” She seems horrified.
“Oh, we love living together. We just got a dog too.” I put my hand on his leg, making it weirder. “You never mentioned sleepovers were an issue.” I chuckle and see the absolute terror in his eyes right then. Blaire looks like she might just pop a blood vessel. Her face is contorted, and her mouth is turned downward. Spencer is looking between her and me, not knowing what he is supposed to do or say.
A smug smile creeps onto his face, and Spencer ignores Blaire, his eyes laser-focused on me. I’m finding it hard to breathe, and when he puts his hand on my cheek and kisses me, the butterflies in my stomach take flight. It’s not an innocent kiss. He claims me—very publicly.
His hand cups my face, and I am tuned out from the gasps and whispers around us. His lips are soft, and the stubble on his chin tickles me. Spencer tastes like the prickly whiskey we have been drinking. It’s tender, yet rough—soft but still harsh like Spencer is. I had no idea it would feel like this when he almost kissed me before back at the house.
When he ends the kiss and looks at me with question marks in his eyes, Blaire shoves her chair back and storms away from the table. “Thank you,” he whispers to me, still not looking away. It’s as if he doesn’t want to see everyone looking at us. Spencer is suddenly shy, and this becomes more awkward than it already was.
I like kissing him—I wonder if he will do it again. Or if it was just to get rid of Blaire. We rejoin the conversation as if nothing happened, only now Spencer has his hand on my thigh. It’s a visibly possessive display, and I see Blaire taking notice across the room.
Dinner is being served, and Stella is asking me questions about my design work. She has a unique eclectic taste and isn’t at all drawn to commercial fashion. I’d fucking love to design for her. That would be the ultimate dream project.
A plate is slipped in front of me, and I have to swallow my vomit. I’m faced with a giant fillet steak and push my chair backwards. “Um, that is not vegan.” I try to catch the waiter’s attention, and when Spencer sees my plate and my reaction, he grabs the guy by the arm.
“That was supposed to be a vegan meal. Take that away.” He’s not happy, and his voice is raised. People around the table look at us, and I smile, trying to pretend everything is fine. The waiter removes the plate, and leaves me with no food while everyone tucks into their murder plates. Spencer pushes his food away, and asks me, his words slurring slightly. “I think we should leave, I just gave them a million dollars, and they can’t get your food right. I am done.” It’s a bit caveman sexy that he is mad over my food, but we don’t need to go.
I’m about to say no when another plate of meat is put down on the table, and he loses his mind at the server. Spencer is overwhelmed and drunk, and I no longer think this is a good idea. I quickly excuse us, and Stella asks me to get in touch. How? Is my thought, but I am pulled away by Spencer. He takes me out of a side door and into the busy reception area of the casino hotel lobby.
Spencer walks so fast I can hardly keep up in these shoes and the tight dress, but he has a death grip on my hand. He’s not saying anything. He just pulls me with him into a busy bar where he orders two whiskeys. He downs the drink and then takes a deep breath.
“I kissed you in there,” drunk Spencer points out.
“You did.” I can’t wipe the smile off my face when I say it, because I liked how he kissed me. “How drunk are you?” I ask him, his expression makes me want to laugh and I have to force myself not to.
“Wasted. I am drunk enough to kiss you again.” He laughs, and I love the sound. “Were you only kissing me because of the Blaire-Bitch-Project, or did you want to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss you?” he asks me. His voice is louder than normal and I can see strangers looking at him.
“Youkissedme,Spencer.” I remind him how this started.
“Never, you kissed me.” He is adamant when he says it. “I can’t kiss you. You are Luna.” He is drunk. Very drunk.
“What does that mean?” I ask, shocked he would say that.
“You’re Luna, that’s what it means.” He looks confused that I do not understand him. He can kiss me—he did kiss me, and I really want him to do it again.
“Spencer.” I stand between his legs where he’s perched on a bar stool, able to look him in the eye and not have to look up at him. “Youcankiss me.” There’s a spark of something bigger between us. It’s not irritation or his usual rage. It’s different and dangerous—and I love that.
“You can kiss me too.” He smiles that awkward nerdy smile of his, and if I was wearing panties, they’d melt right off me. Spencer is very sexy when he smiles.
THIRTEEN
SPENCER
She said I can kiss her, I heard it—I’m drunk but I know that is what she said. I can kiss her again. I kissed Luna in there. In front of everyone. It was so good, and I barely even noticed everyone looking at us right away. Here, in the bar, we stick out. Our fancy clothes are too fancy, but no one in here knows me or cares who I kiss. I’m anonymous in here. It feels safer than in there. Here everyone is on show like we are ponies at the fair.
She is right there in front of me, standing between my legs, looking at me. I want to kiss her again, so fucking badly. Her hands skim up my thighs and stop so close to where my cock is hard for her. Luna looks at me and her tongue just skims her bottom lip slightly. This anticipation, insane electricity that is pulsing between us, makes it impossible not to want to kiss her.
“Luna,” I whisper her name and it tastes sweet on my tongue. She smiles just a little bit at the sound. She is right there, and those lips—oh my God—those lips tease me. I know it’s her this time, and she kisses me.
Her lips ghost over mine at first. It’s innocent yet evil, and when her hands grab the back of my neck and pull me closer, I give up. I grab her ass and pull her closer to me, her body up against mine where my dick aches in my tuxedo pants. Her fingers graze the edges of my collar, and her tongue dips past my lips.
Luna kisses me with her crazy hair. The silk of her bright pink dress is smooth under my hands when I slide them up over her ass and wrap my arms around her back, holding her. My heart beats faster, and my legs squeeze against her body, wanting more of her—all of her. It feels so good, but I know it’s wrong. Even if she said I can, I shouldn’t be kissing Luna.
Our kiss turns into more. It’s touching, and she is grinding her body against my already hard cock. I’m sure there are a few eyes on us, it’s too much, and I want to get her away from here. Somewhere I can slip that silk down and kiss her breasts. I need to touch her. All of her.
“Luna, we need to get out of here,” I say, kissing down her neck, her head falling backwards, giving me access to more. “Please, I want you so badly, but we cannot do what I want to do in here.”
Luna kisses me, her teeth nipping at my lip, and she asks me, “What do you want to do, Spencer?” God, she is a menace, and I am unable to deny that I love the ways she teases. Her madness is sexy, or am I just drunker than I thought? I quickly down another whiskey, not wanting myself to sober up and stop this.
