Something Like Want Page 7

  Spencer surprised me then by slowing us down and just staring at me. His gaze mapped my entire face, and then he lowered his head to take careful possession of my mouth. It was so unlike the frantic fucking we’d always engaged in that I was startled and tried to pull away. But Spencer wouldn’t let me—he had me well and truly caught. All I could do was submit to his gentle ministrations.

  I was swept up in the caress, and I opened my mouth wider to let him have all the access he wanted. He was thorough in his claiming; his tongue didn’t miss a single spot as he swept inside and tasted all of me. I clutched at his shoulders, wanting him closer, harder, but he resisted, making it clear that this was happening at his pace.

  I whined, loving it and wanting more at the same time.

  His chuckle reverberated through my entire body, causing a shudder I couldn’t hide. He ground his hips against mine as he once again devoured my mouth. All heat and teeth and tongue and mint, and I was completely carried away.

  “There we go,” he murmured, pulling away just enough to speak. My eyes drifted open to find him staring at me again. “God, Alex, you’re so damn beautiful.”

  I would have denied it if he’d given me the chance, but he was once again kissing me in that languid way that was arousing as fuck and designed to drive me crazy. When I went completely limp beneath him, he finally lifted his head and shifted his body toward the bedside table. A moment later, he’d retrieved lube and a condom. I tried to wriggle out of his hold so I could turn over.

  “No,” he bit out, his gaze on mine.

  His pupils were blown, the brown ring of his iris barely visible in the dim light.

  “Spence.” His name came out as a whine.

  “Just like this.” His words were punctuated with the snap of the lube bottle cap, and he angled his body so he could get his slick hand between us. “You’ll be looking into my eyes when you come on my cock.”

  The sound I made wouldn’t have been out of place in a porno, and his responding smug smile meant he liked it. I opened my mouth to snap at him, but he slid two fingers into my ass. My entire body arched as I clamped down on his fingers, forcing a groan from my throat.

  Spencer made a satisfied noise. He was quick and efficient, getting me lubed up while he lowered his head and mouthed and bit at my Adam’s apple. I tilted my head back, not caring if he left marks. Normally I would have been; I didn’t like proof of sex on my skin—at least not on the visible parts—but I was already too far gone. I needed him in me in the worst way, and he could do whatever he wanted as long as that happened.

  “Spencer,” I whined, grabbing the back of his head and holding him to me. “Please!”

  He pulled back slowly. First his mouth left my skin, and then he inched his fingers out of my ass at a glacial pace. I felt every second of it and spread my legs even wider. When he sat back on his heels and picked up the condom, I laid out before him. The lust on his face, that pure want and desire, made me freeze. My ragged breathing was the only sound in the room, and his attention was fixed entirely on me.

  He fumbled the wrapper, then finally got it open. He only looked away from me to roll the latex down his hard, leaking shaft. Once it was in place, he covered me again. I let out a whimper as his hot flesh came into contact with mine. With exquisite care, he lifted one of my legs onto his shoulder, pressing it back toward my chest. The other he wrapped around his waist as he got into position.

  Spencer’s dark gaze was glued to mine as he nudged at my pucker with the blunt head of his cock. He angled my hips up a fraction more, and then, so very slowly, he pushed his way inside. I slid my hands up to his hair and begged for him to move, to go faster. But he wouldn’t. It took long minutes before he was finally all the way inside, his fat cock stretching me impossibly, his hips flush against my ass.

  “I love being inside you,” he murmured, his lips close to mine but not touching. He wouldn’t look away from me, and I was completely caught in his gaze. “No matter what else happens between us, this, right here, has always been amazing.”

  My agreement was nothing more than a wordless moan.

  He shifted a little, got a knee underneath him, and the nudge of his cock made me howl. I bit it off before it could gain any volume, and impossibly, Spencer’s gaze turned even darker. He nudged again and I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Oh no, baby.” He shifted again, a tiny little thrust. “You need to look at me. Let me see those beautiful blue eyes.”

  His tone was as sultry as it was commanding, and I obeyed without thought. Only when I was once again looking at him, did he start to move. His thrusts were forceful, unhurried. I could do nothing but stare as he set a rhythm that was going to make me implode. I whimpered and whined, begged and pleaded, tried to move to hurry things along. But Spencer had complete control and I was at his mercy.

  Those measured thrusts went on and on, but I didn’t think it would be enough.

  Suddenly I was right there on the edge, my orgasm barreling down on me, the tingling at the base of my spine and the tightening in my core unexpected and strong. I don’t know what I said or did, but Spencer was aware of it. He sat up abruptly, changed his angle again, and started pounding on my prostate. I reached for my dick, but before I even got a hand on it, my channel clamped down on his cock and cum shot out all over my stomach. I grunted and cursed as my vision washed white, the feeling much more intense than I’d ever felt.

  “Oh, that’s good, baby,” he said, his voice tight. “You’re gonna pull me over if you keep—ahh!”

  I clenched purposefully, and Spencer went rigid as he shoved in and came. The tension on his face looked painful as his body strained. Then he slumped over me, catching himself on his hands before gently lowering himself onto me. I had to lift my hips, bowing my spine so I didn’t lose his dick. I didn’t want him to pull out, despite how tender I was.

  The feeling only lasted a few minutes, though, and then I needed him out. Spencer must have known because he kissed my temple, my eyes, and then my mouth, slowly and tenderly, as he carefully inched out of me. Then he touched me intimately, his fingers barely a whisper of sensation, just resting in my channel and ever so gently feeling my hole.

  I stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at him as he moved to deal with the used condom. I didn’t know what was supposed to happen next. This had been so different from the last time. That had been frantic fucking fueled by want and hate—this was something else altogether. Much more like that first time when we lay in my bed and talked for hours afterward. Part of me was itching to get up and leave, to put paid to us and call it done. But there was another part that wanted to simply curl up in his arms.

  Spencer took the choice from me. He turned on his side and gathered me up, held me tightly—but not so tight that I felt smothered. In increments, I felt my body begin to relax. But my mind wouldn’t shut off.

  “Stop,” he whispered, kissing my sweaty hair. “You’re staying. Hold on to me.”

  I gave in. Despite what he’d said, what we’d done, I couldn’t trust it to last. So this was the end of us, the last I would have with him. I stopped fighting, wrapped my body around his, and laid my head on his chest.

  Spencer’s sigh was one of contentment.

  * * * *

  The sounds of the party had died down, and I wondered if we’d been missed. No one had come looking for us. Maybe they knew what we’d been up to. I didn’t really care. The shoot was over. We’d all be going home tomorrow, and I probably wouldn’t see any of them again until the film festivals. Unless we had to do reshoots. That was likely; there was always something to be picked up.

  But it didn’t matter. Everything had come to an end. It was time to say goodbye.

  I carefully pulled myself out of Spencer’s hold. He was sleeping soundly and barely stirred. I sat up, then turned my attention to him. He was so goddamn beautiful…and maybe not as much of an asshole as I used to think. He’d proven to me he had more layers than that, and even though I w
asn’t sure I could forgive him completely for what he’d done, we’d reached an understanding. A real truce.

  I slid out of bed, pulled on my jeans, and gathered up the rest of my clothes. Then I crossed the room and stared down at his sleeping face. I wanted to part on good terms, and we finally had that. Before I could think better of it, I bent and kissed his cheek, lingering for a moment to inhale his unique scent.

  And then I quietly slipped from the room.

  It was over.

  Chapter 10

  It felt really good to be home. Rachel was happy to see me, just as I was to see her, and it was good to catch up. She hung out for the weekend before heading back to Long Beach. We hadn’t talked much while I was gone—I wasn’t good about keeping in touch while on a shoot—and the only time we hadn’t spoken for more than just check-in texts was when she found out Spencer was working on the movie too. She’d calmed some since that conversation, especially when I told her everything had gone well, and she wanted to hear all about it.

  As much as I loved my sister, I was glad when she headed home. And even though I was happy to be back in my house, I had a pang in my chest that just wouldn’t go away. The close-knit atmosphere of filming, all of us together, had been like sleep-away camp. I smiled, thinking about it. I’d have to remember that comparison when I hit the talk-show circuit. The media would eat that shit up.

  It helped that it was true. But I was having trouble getting back into the normal rhythm of my life. Normally I was as glad to have downtime as I was to work. I had no trouble filling the hours with reading or TV—I’d always been one of those people. While I wanted to work, to stay relevant and have paying jobs, I usually didn’t have issues with hanging out and doing nothing until Lou lined up my next project.

  This time, I barely lasted a week before I was contacting my agent and begging for work.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he grumbled when he finally returned my call.

  I gave a Lou-like sigh. “Fucking restless.”

  “Yeah, well,” he harrumphed. “It’s not like shit falls from the sky for you. It takes time. Lot of people in this business. I have to constantly put out feelers, and sometimes I have to wait for something to cross my desk. You aren’t my only client, you know. But I’m still looking for parts for you.”

  “I know the drill, Lou.”

  “Could have fooled me.” His tone was warm with affection. He was silent for a moment, and then his voice was quieter when he said, “I’m working on it. I promise.”

  “Thanks.”

  I still couldn’t settle, but I didn’t feel much like going out either. I did, though, a few times, because I needed to be seen. Because it felt like returning to the scene of the crime, I avoided the Lounge. I hadn’t been back since that night; I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be welcome.

  At least that was what I told myself. It had nothing to do with him.

  When I hit up a few other clubs and bars with some of my friends, I did my best to put on a happy face. If they noticed anything was off, they didn’t point it out. But I mostly stayed at home and waited for Lou to line something up.

  As the days stretched into weeks, I went on a couple of auditions, did a few interviews, and rambled around my house.

  Waiting.

  * * * *

  An unseasonably warm first week of November had me outside, pretending to take care of my yard to avoid the ringing phone. I was sure it was my father trying to make plans for Thanksgiving. But we had weeks yet before the holiday, not to mention we always did the same thing every year. The big dinner at my dad’s house with all his family, then football on the TV, while eating our pie.

  Since my parents’ divorce when I was twelve, we’d spent Thanksgiving with Dad and then flown to New York to spend Christmas with Mom. Despite sixteen years having passed, Rachel and I still did the same.

  The phone rang for the third time in as many hours. Finally fed up, I wiped the dirt off my hands and pulled my cell out of my pocket. I was going to give my dad an earful before I caved and agreed to his plans.

  To my surprise, it wasn’t my father. Spencer’s name was flashing on the screen, along with a picture of him lying in my bed.

  I should have deleted his number. And that fucking picture.

  For a long moment, I stared at it in disbelief, unsure whether I wanted to answer it. He hadn’t called me in the weeks since we left Oak Harbor, and I sure as hell hadn’t contacted him. What in the fuck did he want now?

  With a heavy sigh, I plopped down into the lounge chair, swiped my finger across the screen, and lifted the phone to my ear.

  He spoke before I could. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

  I couldn’t help the grin at his warm, affectionate tone. And because he wasn’t there to see, I allowed it to stay. “Yes, you did.”

  “Okay. I didn’t know you could sing outside the shower.”

  He chuckled, a deep, dirty sound that made arousal hum in my veins. My body flushed hot and I fought a shiver. What did it say about me that he could affect me so strongly after all this time? And over the phone, no less.

  Which, now that I thought about it, was weird.

  “Why are you calling me? You’re a text guy.”

  A beat of silence. “I wanted to hear your voice.”

  My stomach leaped at the honesty in his tone. But no way was I touching that. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “What’s up, Spence?”

  This time the silence was heavy. I let it sit there while he decided what he was going to say. If he chose not to go with the subject change and the levity I’d forcefully injected into the conversation, I could end the call with the touch of a button.

  “Obviously I saw you on The Late Late Show,” he said finally, and I breathed out a noiseless sigh of relief. Spencer let out a small laugh. “It was a great interview. I can’t believe he got you to break out into song in the middle of it. Was it planned?”

  Happy he’d rolled with it, I was quick to answer, not even worried about giving him the truth. “Yeah. My agent thought it was a good idea to get it out there that I can sing. Open new doors and all that.”

  “Well, good luck with that.” I could tell he meant it. Which explained the warmth surging through me. But it stopped cold when he cleared his throat. “I appreciate what you said.”

  I didn’t respond right away. What could I say? I’d given the first interview where I hadn’t bashed Spencer’s character or skills. James Corden was a great guy, and he’d dropped the question in with his trademark humor. I was certain my polite, sincere response about how great it had been to work with Spencer on the film had not been what anyone was expecting.

  “Alex?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It was good.” His voice had a rasp to it that caught me right in the gut. “It meant a lot to me.”

  “Well.” I sighed. There were so many things I wanted to say, places I could take this conversation. But I wasn’t ready for any of it. I stared up at the darkening sky. Dusk was fast approaching. “I said I would put it behind us.”

  That heavy silence stretched between us again.

  “You told the world that we started out rough but grew to truly respect each other. It was unexpected, especially considering how we felt about each other before. But the film is amazing and deserves all the respect we can give it. Including the fact that it brought the two of us together in a friendship.”

  That was almost exactly word for word what I had said. It had seemed important for me to be the one to speak out. As Spencer had said, he’d only been reacting to me. It wasn’t until after I punched him that he said anything unkind about me, and then it escalated because I made it happen. After our truce, the real one we struck on the last night in Oak Harbor, I needed to be the one to make public amends first. Spencer deserved that.

  “Yeah. Well.” I was repeating myself, but I didn’t know what else to say.

  “It was not a small thing.” His voice was sharp, almost a ch
astisement. “Don’t play it off as if it was.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that either. This was new territory for us, and Spencer wasn’t making it easy. I sat up and tucked one leg underneath me. He’d been in a certain role in my head for so long that I was having trouble readjusting. Instead, I changed the subject again.

  “Did Vincent email you?”

  Spencer made a startled noise and then coughed. “About coming out to do a few reshoots and ADR lines? Yeah, I got it. I have a ton of time right now, so it’s fine with me. Does that work for your schedule?”

  “Yep. But only just. I’m supposed to head to Vancouver that week to start shooting a movie. As it is, I’ll have only two days in Oak Harbor. I’ll have to leave directly from there.”

  “We’d better make them count, then,” he muttered.

  I blinked, not sure I heard him right. “What?”

  “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, then. Talk to you later.”

  The abruptness caught me off guard, and he’d hung up before I could even react. I stared at the phone for a long moment before I tossed it onto the seat beside me and leaned back in the chair.

  My mind was racing. That had been a weird-ass conversation. It wasn’t as though I didn’t know Spencer was capable of sincerity. It was true I hadn’t seen much of it directed at me, but things had changed between us. Again. I was unbalanced. And confused. And a little bit angry that he managed to elicit such a response from me.

  From the first time we’d met, I’d been drawn to him. When he broke my trust, however unintentionally, as I now knew, it had been too much. It’d been so easy to hate him, to disparage him, to direct all the passion I’d had for him that first night into something negative. I felt strongly about him, and when he’d hurt me, turning it into hate had been as simple as flicking a switch.

  And through it all, I hadn’t stopped wanting him. Which was another reason to loathe the bastard. It wasn’t fair that all the rage hadn’t diminished my desire for him.

  So now I was just plain confused. I didn’t hate him anymore, not really, and I still wanted him. But it seemed like a bad decision of epic proportions to let him in further. This was a guy who had treated me callously, and even though he’d changed his tune, I didn’t know whether I could trust him again. It would be better for both of us if I walked away, dealt with the stuff for the movie, was nice in public, and cordial when I saw him. But I would allow it to go no further.