Something Like Want Page 5

  I realized what he was going to do a split second before he did it, but before I could avoid him, his lips were on mine. That fast I melted against him, opening to his probing tongue so he could sweep in and really taste me. I moaned a little and pushed closer, giving in completely. He tasted so good, had from our very first kiss, and I wanted more of him. I’d been craving him for the past eight months, ever since our night together, and to finally have his tongue on mine again was heaven.

  The thought was a jolt and I realized what I was doing. It was painful to do it, but I wrenched my mouth away and pushed hard against him. He didn’t let me go, though he allowed some space between us; his pupils were blown as he fixed his gaze on mine.

  “You can hate me all you want,” he murmured in a raspy voice. “But you still want me desperately.”

  There was no point in denying it. Not after the way I’d reacted. Not when he could look down and see what my jeans failed to hide. So I didn’t bother to say anything he could easily refute, but looked him straight in the eye. “Let me go. Now.”

  He hesitated for a moment and then did as I demanded.

  I shoved him hard, then turned fast and all but sprinted up the stairs. Because he was right. As much as I hated him, I still wanted him.

  Chapter 6

  I was keyed up and turned on. Still hard, I paced the confines of my room, alternately pissed and horny. I thought about just taking care of the issue myself—a little lube and my left hand were all I needed—but I didn’t want to give Spencer the satisfaction of knowing he’d affected me so much. I gritted my teeth and kept pacing, determined to ignore my hard-on.

  Only it wouldn’t be ignored, and the more I thought about it, the more I grumbled and paced, and the more I wanted him. Yes, I wanted to punch him in the face. But in that moment, what I wanted more was for him to fuck me boneless. Now I was pissed at myself as well. Why in the fuck did he keep affecting me this way?

  It wasn’t just because he was pretty. I’d met plenty of pretty people before and not one of them, male or female, had turned me on as fast or made me as hard as Spencer Johns.

  It had been that way since the first time we met. Weeks before I finally let him take me home, we’d ended up at the Lounge together. We had plenty of drinks and conversation, and every time, I wanted to get on my knees and suck him down my throat. It took time for me to be sure he’d even want that. And by then, he made the move. Spencer had been everything I wanted and needed that night. On my couch, on the chaise outdoors in my bed…I hadn’t known it could be like that. So all-encompassing, intense, and hot as fuck. He’d consumed me in his passion, and I’d reveled in it.

  I was at the door with my hand on the knob before I even realized it. Just because we hated each other didn’t mean we couldn’t still fuck. We didn’t have to like each other to get our rocks off, and there was no denying the attraction. Despite everything else, my body reacted to him in the most carnal of ways. And I knew mine did the same for him. So why shouldn’t we use each other for physical satisfaction? It didn’t change anything. We’d go back to our feud as soon as it was done.

  So I let my body make up my mind, pulled open the door, and raced down the stairs. Spencer was standing where I left him, his expression dark as he stared up. He blinked when he saw me, and then his expression cleared, became neutral. I was breathing hard. Just looking at him hurt, and I didn’t know how to give voice to my desires, how to make him fuck me and then leave me alone so I could go back to hating him without this want riding me.

  He seemed to understand, because one moment he was on the other side of the room, the next he was in my space, close enough to touch. He stared into my eyes, searching intently, and I did nothing but stare back and breathe. He raised a hand and slowly reached for me. After an eternity, he cupped my cheek and swept his thumb along my jaw.

  I whimpered.

  Spencer yanked me forward into his arms and crushed my mouth under his in a devouring kiss, all lips, teeth, and tongue. I surrendered to it, melted against him, and then clawed at his shoulders, trying to get closer. He was so warm and hard, his body fitting mine in exactly the right way as he slotted us together and took the kiss deeper. I moaned as his tongue thrust in, forceful yet gentle at the same time, and I submitted.

  He pulled his mouth away but didn’t release any other part of me. His breath ghosted on my lips as he spoke.

  “Upstairs.”

  He let me go only enough so that I could turn around, and he plastered himself to my back as we climbed the stairs. It wasn’t easy to walk with one of his hands around my throat, gently tilting my head back so he could kiss my jaw, his other hand working its way down the front of my pants. I managed only because he kept me steady. When we made it to the top, he tried to steer me toward my room, but I wasn’t having it. I dug in my heels, and instead turned as much as he would allow toward his room. Spencer lifted an eyebrow in question but didn’t argue. He let me go only to push me through the door.

  I turned fast, and he slammed the door shut without even looking, his gaze predatory and fixed on me. I licked my lips, stared right back, and pulled my T-shirt off over my head. Spencer’s growl was all want, and I grinned as I dropped my hands to the button fly of my jeans. With one practiced pull, the fly came open and my cock bulged through. Spencer stalked forward and gave me an easy shove so I fell backward onto the bed. He grabbed the waistband of my jeans and I lifted my ass so he could pull them off.

  His gaze roved all over me, and I watched his reaction. His dark eyes were practically glowing and his face was flushed. I could see the lust all over him, and it ramped up mine even more.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, still just looking.

  My scowl was fast and I shook my head. “Don’t. Don’t say shit like that.”

  His gaze shot to my mine—a hint of surprise there before he quickly covered it. Once again his expression was all heat, and he divested himself of his clothes at rapid speed. I nearly swallowed my tongue once he was naked. He was chiseled perfection, cut muscles, and tanned golden skin. The muscles came from careful cultivation in the gym, the tan more from beds than the sun, but he was stunning and I wanted him even more. My mouth actually started to water, and I had to swallow the excess saliva.

  “Get naked and get on the bed,” he ground out. He gave me a hard glare, telling me to do what he wanted, and only after I hooked my thumbs in my boxers did he turn toward the dresser. He reached into the toiletry bag on top and retrieved a small bottle of lube and a square packet. When he turned back, I made a show of flinging my shorts, then deliberately turned over. With my ass in the air, I crawled up the bed.

  His growl was the only warning I got before he was on me. He wrapped himself around me and held me tightly as he latched onto the back of my neck and sucked. It was too tender, too intimate, and I didn’t want that from him—just a good hard fuck and to go on my way. I didn’t want tenderness.

  “Spencer,” I growled, shoving back with my hips so my ass ground into his cock. “Just fuck me!”

  Spencer went still. And then he pushed himself off me to put a hand on the back of my neck and urge me down. His other hand went to my waist to keep my ass in the air, and I complied easily, knowing what he wanted. I slid my arms under the pillow and turned my head to the side, spread my knees farther apart, and canted my hips. Spencer sucked in a breath and then moaned. He touched my ass before slipping his fingers into my channel. I went harder than steel when I felt his fingers at my hole.

  “You have the best fucking ass.”

  “Then fuck it already!”

  Spencer growled, then smacked my ass cheek hard. I opened my mouth to say something, when a shock of cold hit my sphincter and I clenched involuntarily. His chuckle was dark and wicked, and he grasped my cheeks to pull them apart. My whole body flexed as I pushed into his hands. The lube was warming as it slid down my taint toward my balls. Spencer was just holding me open and staring. It felt dirty and delicious; I shudd
ered, then did my best to stay exactly as I was.

  I could barely see him out of the corner of my eye, so I tilted my head a little more to make him out better. Spencer didn’t take his gaze off my ass. He slid his fingers in the slick, rubbed hard at my pucker for a moment, then pushed two fingers inside. I howled, my entire body arched, pain and pleasure mixed together and made my ass clench. I wanted him out and wanted him deeper at the same moment, and my body struggled to process the sensations. Spencer took the choice out of my hands, wiggling in deeper and touching my prostate with the barest of flicks from the pads of his fingers. My moan was deep and guttural, and I spread my knees even more as I pushed up into his hand.

  “You’re so tight,” he murmured as though I didn’t already know. He gave another one of those wicked chuckles. “Been a while, huh? That’s okay, Alex. We’ll take care of that.”

  I loved having my ass played with, and Spencer damn well knew it, so I wasn’t surprised when he started fucking me with his fingers. He tugged on my rim, slammed his fingers in hard, rubbed on my prostate, wiggled his digits around. Every time I thought he was getting into a rhythm, he changed things up. It didn’t take him long to have me panting, reaching for my own dick, and begging for his.

  “Be still,” he commanded, and he yanked his fingers out of me without finesse. I was so turned on, even the burn of that had me panting.

  He gave his hand a cursory wipe on the top sheet, then felt around until he found the condom. He showed it to me before he ripped open the packet. I closed my eyes as he lowered his hand to roll it on.

  I hadn’t spent time worshiping his cock tonight, but I remembered clearly what it looked, felt, and tasted like. He wasn’t overly long, but he was thick—more than a mouthful. And I remembered the feel of him in my ass, stretching me, making me pant and writhe. I braced myself as the blunt head touched my hole and he nudged forward. My body yielded, but not enough.

  “Breathe,” he ordered. He took hold of my shoulders, angled his hips, and shoved his way inside.

  I pressed my face into the pillow and screamed.

  It hurt. The burn was intense, and his cock was too fat to fit comfortably in my hole. He reached under me, rubbing my stomach as I squirmed to try and accommodate him. Then he grasped my wilting cock and started to stroke, bringing me back to hardness with a few firm tugs. He remembered what I liked, what I needed. With a full ass and him playing with my cock and balls, I was ready to go in a matter of minutes.

  “Spencer!”

  Another low, wicked chuckle was my only answer. He pulled out a fraction, pushed back in, and kept up the shallow thrusts for an eternity even as I panted and begged. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, and I hated the teasing. But no matter how many times I growled out “Fuck me,” he didn’t do more.

  “You’ll take what I give you, won’t you, baby?” he teased with another gentle stroke.

  “Fuck you. I’m not your baby.” My words were panted out, my body, nerves, and patience stretched thin. “Fuck me or get out of my ass.”

  Spencer kneeled up. The shift in angle made me moan and thrust back against him now that I had more room. He grabbed my hips, stilling me, and I panted at the pressure inside. I needed him to fucking move!

  “Hold on, baby,” he said.

  It was all the warning I got. He pulled out fast and then slammed back in.

  My body lit up and I howled.

  He set up a hard, punishing rhythm—exactly what I wanted. My ass ached, it hurt where his hips slammed into me, and I was going to be swollen and sore when he was done. But I didn’t care. I needed it exactly like this: hard and hurting and so fucking good. I met each thrust as best I could, my moans in counterpoint to his grunts.

  He picked up the pace, going faster, somehow harder, and I reached for my own cock. With every stroke his cock rubbed my channel, tugged on my rim, and bumped into my prostate. My arousal ratcheted higher and higher, and my orgasm built. I wanted to come more than I wanted to breathe, and pressed under the head of my dick, on that little spot that was so sensitive. Suddenly I was right on the edge.

  “You’re so close. I can feel you. Come, Alex. Fucking come!”

  I did, screaming his name into the pillow. My whole body locked down as cum spewed from the end of my dick, coating his sheet. My ass squeezed tight around him, trying to force him out, but he wouldn’t have it. He shoved in hard, pressing his hips to my ass, and I came again and again, my hole spasming around his fat cock.

  After another minute I came down, my body relaxing enough that I could breathe. Sweat dripped off my face, and Spencer readjusted his hold on my hips as his fingers slipped. I wanted to collapse, and I wanted him out of my ass. But he hadn’t come yet, I could feel how hard he still was, and I wasn’t going to leave him hanging. I might hate his guts, but I wasn’t a complete asshole.

  “Do it,” I murmured, trying to get my knees back under me. “Spence, fuck me. Come in my ass.”

  He glanced at my face, checking, but he must have seen what he wanted because he got his balance again and went to town. It hurt, but it still felt good, and I did my best to squeeze around him. Suddenly he stilled and shouted, and warmth filled the condom.

  Just like our first time, I kind of wished he was fucking me bare so I could feel it in my ass. But I pushed that thought away quickly and tried to disengage myself from him.

  Spencer didn’t seem to want to let me go. He clung harder; his arms slid up until he was plastered against my back, sweat sticking us together. He rolled us onto our sides…and he still had his cock lodged inside me.

  “Aches a bit,” I said very softly. I didn’t want him to think it had been bad, but I really needed his dick out of my ass.

  “Okay, baby,” he whispered. “Hold on.”

  He reached between us and grabbed onto the condom so he wouldn’t lose it. Then he used his other hand to push my leg forward and up. Ever so gently he pulled out, moving slowly. It still stung as he pulled against my rim, and it was a relief when I was empty.

  But I felt hollow too, and tried to roll away.

  “Wait a sec.” Spencer stilled me with a hand on my hip and then slid around until he could get his face near my ass.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I tried for indignant, but I didn’t quite have the energy.

  “Just checking. You’re swollen and red, but I didn’t hurt you.”

  “I know that,” I groused.

  I’d be tender for a day, maybe two. If we fucked regularly, my body would get used to taking him, but we didn’t, so I wasn’t. I pulled away as he reached for me, and somehow I valiantly kept in the hiss as I sat up and my ass hit the bed.

  “Alex?”

  Not wanting to talk, I shook my head. All I’d wanted was a good hard fuck, and that’s exactly what he’d given me. My body was sated and sore, but for the moment I didn’t hate his living guts, so I wanted to leave before that changed. Quickly I scooped up my clothes and didn’t even dress as I ran out of his room and across the hall into my own.

  Chapter 7

  Vincent’s office was a fairly large room, but it felt tiny when I lay naked on the floor, with people staring at me. Okay, it was Vincent, the camera guy, Cody, and Dan holding the boom mic.

  And Spencer.

  Spencer, who was as naked as I was and underneath me on this very same floor.

  The scene was straightforward. Desperate fucking, because Sam and Chris were fighting but missing each other. And since they were hiding their relationship from the rest of their friends, they were doing it on the floor of the den. Things had finally come to a head between them, and we’d spent the morning filming the emotional parts of the scene, the argument to end all arguments.

  I’d really gotten into it because shouting at Spencer was easy even if I was using someone else’s lines. I could admit it was kind of cathartic to get all that out. Because what we’d filmed had been so good, we’d gotten it done quicker than Vincent originally thought. He wanted to bu
ild on the emotion of the scene, so he sent everyone else away and just us few were present in the house. Since we were naked and simulating sex, I appreciated that no one else was around.

  I’d been half-hard since losing the clothes, which we’d filmed with some creative camerawork by Cody to keep cocks off-screen, and lying on top of Spencer, acting like I was plowing his ass, wasn’t helping at all.

  Completely awkward, actually. Not only were there three other people watching us, but it didn’t feel right or comfortable to be the one on top. In general I preferred to bottom, and I certainly liked to take a more submissive role with my lovers. But with Spencer especially, it felt wrong. He’d been assertive and dominant since the first time we met. He should be holding me down. Even though Sam was the more dominant and forceful of the two, and I had no problem playing that role, it was hard to keep acting when we were naked and entwined. My body wanted to submit to him, and I needed to remind myself that my brain was in charge right now.

  But because it was Spencer, because I was bare against all those acres of his perfect golden skin, my dick was trying to make itself known. I was glad I could keep myself hidden, though Spencer didn’t seem to mind that I was getting half a chubby with my hips pressed against his. I was pretty sure he was in the same state, so that was partially distracting. Coupled with the wrongness of the scene, it was making things awkward instead of sexy. I couldn’t get the rhythm right, and things felt forced instead of natural.

  Spencer seemed to understand my predicament, because suddenly he grabbed my face from where I’d buried it in his neck and lifted it to kiss me. He took charge, owning my mouth, and I melted against him. I kissed him back, dueled with his tongue, pushing closer because I needed to be there.

  “Come on,” he murmured, his lips barely moving so I almost didn’t hear him. “Move your hips, babe.”