17. Spencer
Chapter seventeen
Spencer
This pizza is the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. It’s exactly what I need after hours of backbreaking box moving—as well as furniture I really think we could have donated instead of keeping—and a pounding headache that’s only just now easing enough I can hear myself think.
“Here,” Kendrick says, handing me a bottle of water before sitting down at the kitchen table beside me. Our kitchen table now. Because he lives here. And he doesn’t get to leave. Ever.
“I already drank one.” Probably more than one. I haven’t been keeping count.
“Drink another one.”
I dutifully take a long chug and then slide it back onto the table in favour of grabbing more pizza. I need more greasy delicious sustenance.
Six leans back in his chair, flinging his feet up onto Greer’s lap, who just lifts his arms to accommodate him, keeping his BBQ chicken pizza slice out of harm’s way. “So, I had a look at those cards I swiped.” Good thing Hunter dropped Olivia back home earlier because talking casework in front of her is a giant no-no. She has enough bad habits as it is, and we all share equal blame for those. Partial blame? Some blame.
“And? Please tell me there’s something on them.” We’re running into a lot of weird dead ends, and a video of the killer would be all we need to put the case to rest and move on.
“There’s footage at the time of the murder, on either side. Trine really was just watching everything, which is fucking creepy, right?”
I lean forward, hope flaring. “You saw the killer?”
“No.”
Kendrick sighs. “Just spit it out, Six. Either you found something, or you didn’t.”
“I guess it depends on what your definition of ‘found something’ is. There’s something interesting, but it’s not what we wanted. It’s nothing but static at those specific times. The killer not only knew that the cameras were there, he knew how to disable them for as long as he needed.”
Well, fuck. What the hell does that mean? “What kind of person just knows how to disable cameras? And how did he know about them?” That’s not just average, everyday knowledge. Is he working with Trine? No, the guy seemed more than surprised she’d been murdered. We’ve been in this long enough to know fake from genuine—most of the time; some people are expert-enough liars that they can slip even under our radar.
“Those are good questions,” Six says with a shrug.
Goddammit. Too much to hope for a clean break in the case. More questions and even fewer answers than before. It feels like we’re renovating a hundred-year-old house, and every time we get somewhere, we uncover something else that needs fixing.
If it’s not the creepy asshole from her day job, then it sounds like her day job is nothing but another dead end. The next step is to check out her more famous avenues. The show in which she plays a minor character isn’t the most popular soap opera in Australia and only has a small following, but fame makes people do stupid things.
“I’ve made an appointment to go and speak to the original killer,” Kendrick says. He puts the water bottle back in my hand. Subtle. “Maybe he can shed some light on this one.”
“Ah, yes,” Hunter says, quickly swallowing his mouthful and taking a sip of his Coke. “I recovered the details of the case for you and have left them on your desk at work.”
“What do you think?” I ask, knowing that he’ll have looked through them. His intuition is second to none, and his input is always invaluable. He doesn’t get as hands-on anymore, too busy in meetings and clearing paths so we can move around unhindered, but he’s still the best of all of us.
“It’s an interesting case. I’ve forwarded it to Sebastian to see what he thinks. Can’t hurt to get an expert’s opinion on it.”
“The first lawyer not expert enough for you?” Kendrick asks. He lets me bite the end of his slice off before taking his own. I wouldn’t mind some of the garlic bread, too, but it’s on the other end of the table, which is way too far away. When I don’t move, my head doesn’t throb quite so bad, so my aim is less movement.
“Absolutely not. There are holes so wide that we could see them from Mars.”
Six snickers. “I bet Mars is jealous it has bigger holes.”
Moira rolls her eyes and steals the slice from his plate while he isn’t looking. He glares, and she maintains eye contact as she takes a huge bite, cheeks bulging. She points at her mouth. “Did you want this?” she says, voice muffled.
“Joke’s on you; I’d still eat it,” Six replies.
It’s true too. He’s a garbage disposal.
“Send it to Cody too,” Jericho says through his own mouthful. None of us have any manners. “I want to know what he’d do with it if it came across his desk. Whether it was defence incompetence that lost the case, or if there was enough for the prosecution to run away with it.”
Hunter nods. “Good idea. I’ll do that once I leave here.”
Ever the workaholic.
I lean closer to Kendrick, lips pressed to his ear. “Did you make the other appointment?” He knows what I’m talking about. He better.
“Yes,” is all he says.
Perfect. I can’t wait to have him permanently marked, for me . Because I asked him to. Because he’s mine .
I snag the rest of his slice and smile as I finish it off.
Luckily, no one sticks around for long.
Soon enough it’s just Kendrick and me left, with enough pizza still here to last us a few days. Hunter may have gone a little overboard. If I thought we could get away with it, I’d sequester us here to live off pizza and snuggles on the couch, without the rest of the world invading our space.
“I need a shower,” I say with a groan. Hauling shit is hard work, and I hope the hot water will help my headache.
We should have done this years ago. Hell, I should have moved him in the day we met. I have no excuses for the terrible lapse. At least it’s rectified now.
I pause at the threshold of the small hallway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom, and twist to look at Kendrick, one hand on the doorframe. “You wanna join me?”
He pauses from where he’s cleaning off the table, napkins in one hand and a dirty glass in the other. “Do I—what?”
“In the shower. Do you want to join me in the shower?”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Always so cautious. Always holding parts of himself back because he thinks that’s what I want. It’s not. I want him. All of him, no matter what that means. “Best one I’ve had all day.” I tug my top up and over my head, dropping it on the floor. “So, you coming?”
He visibly swallows. “Let me finish putting everything away, and I’ll join you there.”
The spray of the shower is warm and soothing and almost perfect. It’ll be perfect once Kendrick joins me. We’ve never showered together before. Another oversight on my part. I like being close to him, always. Why haven’t I asked for this? Why hasn’t he ?
Except I know the answer to that already. He follows my lead, thinking that if he asks too much, then I’ll walk away. As if I ever could. As if I’d ever want to. Something visceral and raw comes to life inside me every time he demands anything from me. My need to please him, make him feel good, gets fulfilled when he asks something of me, and I give it to him.
A lot of this is my fault. I was so sure that we both had everything we needed because we had each other that I never demanded more. He never asked for more, so why would I think he needed more? When I almost lost him last year, everything changed. Evolved. Warped into something even worse. It’s always been this deep, uncontrollable thing that consumes me, but I’ve never been scared of losing him before. The fact he’ll always be here is something I’d taken for granted. Now I can’t think about anything else. It follows me into my dreams and turns them into nightmares. It haunts my steps when he isn’t in sight, or in reach.
He was almost taken from me without a choice. And now I can’t help the fear that next time it will be his choice to leave. I need to give him more because I need him to stay. And I want to make him feel good. It makes me feel good too. Maybe not in the same way, but that doesn’t make it less. They’re both powerful. Both us .
My heart skips a beat when the door opens, and Kendrick steps into the room. He’s still fully clothed and almost hesitant. Does he think I’ll change my mind? I won’t. Is he going to change his? I hope not.
We’ve never shared this, and I want to experience it. I want to have it all.
It’s an intimate thing to do, isn’t it? Not necessarily sexual but still an intimacy I’ve kept from him; from us both. I’m done with that. I’m throwing open all the doors, and the windows, and destroying every single fucking lock we’ve ever had. No more space between us. None.
He undresses slowly, keeping his gorgeous, hazel-green eyes on me. His body is a work of art, honed and deadly. My gaze catches on his chest, right where I plan to get him tattooed. A permanent mark of my making. My name. My very soul, etched into him.
His thick thighs are covered with rough hair that I’m intimately familiar with; they keep me warm when I rub my feet on them on cold nights. The scar on his leg from his surgery is fading more and more, and the reminder of what we went through with it. The mental scars will take a lot longer to heal, if they ever fully do.
His cock is soft, and there’s something comforting about it. That he’s not just in here to get his rocks off. We’re more than that. I plan on getting him off, on being the only one to give him that pleasure and release, but it’s not the point .
The point is him and me. And that’s it.
He opens the shower door, and I blurt out, “I’m gay.”
His mouth parts, half in amusement and half in surprise, his grip tightening on the glass. “You’re not even bisexual, Spence.”
The words make me stiffen indignantly. “Me not getting hard has nothing to do with my sexuality.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“You said we’re in a relationship,” I accuse. Did he not mean that? Did he just say it to placate me?
Kendrick steps into the shower, shutting us in here together, and crowds me until we’re almost touching. “We are.”
“I have no intention of ever dating anyone else. You’re it for me. So doesn’t that make me gay?”
He drags me the last inch with a hand curled around my hip, bringing us together properly. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“I’m in love with you. I’m into you. And you’re a guy.” The logic’s pretty sound to me.
“It doesn’t erase the other parts of you, Spence.” He tips my head up and kisses me softly, lips lingering. “You’re complicated, and that’s alright.”
“We should get married.”
Kendrick’s smile falters. “We should what?”
“Get married.” I hadn’t meant to say it, but now that I have, I can’t put it back. We absolutely fucking should. There’s literally not a single reason why we shouldn’t. Not one. “You’re mine in every way, Ken. If we get married, you’d be mine legally too.” Damn. Now that is the best idea I’ve ever had. Why didn’t I think of it before?
“I think you’re still drunk.”
“I’m completely sober.” There’s only the barest hint of a headache left, in fact. He doesn’t get to use that as a reason to dismiss me. Or this brilliant-as-fuck idea.
“We’re not getting married. Turn around so I can wash your back.”
After getting into the position that he wants me, I crane my head around so I can see him. “Why not?”
“I don’t—because it doesn’t make any sense. Is there something wrong with how things are?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Wanting to marry him doesn’t mean something else is lacking. That’s stupid logic.
He presses our cheeks together, and my eyes close, breath leaving me. He feels so good against me, his stubble scratching pleasantly on my skin. We’re roughly the same size, though he’s got more muscle definition than me. Yet when we’re like this, I feel small, safe, protected. Like he’ll keep all the demons at bay. I know he will.
“We don’t need to get married, Spence. You own me; a piece of paper isn’t necessary for that to be fact.”
“It’s more than that. I want to.” Want is such an inadequate word for how I feel right now. “This isn’t about some weird sense of obligation. I’ll take your last name, don’t worry.” Damn, that sounds good. Spencer Fischer. It almost rhymes. I have to have it now.
His hand flexes on my hip. “That’s not really the issue here.” He likes the idea, though; I can tell.
“Let’s get married,” I insist. The idea of him wearing my ring, a visible mark of ownership, is obscenely visceral. If I had one ready, I’d make him put it on right now. Proudly display it for everyone to see.
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Whichever one makes you say yes.”
“The ‘asking me’ option is probably the approach here, then.”
He still thinks I’m joking. I can see it in his eyes when I turn around. He has no idea just how serious I am. I kiss him first, those lips beckoning to me. He clasps my neck, leaning into it. I keep it short because I have an important task.
Kissing my way down his chest, I lick the droplets of water running down his hard muscles and then lower myself to the tiles. A little unforgiving on my knees, but it’s whatever. Maybe we can look at getting a shower mat or something.
“What are you doing?” he asks in a strangled voice that sends a tingle of pleasure through me. I like pleasing him, making him feel like this, getting him riled up for me.
I might have answered him, but his cock distracts me, and I forget to. He’s hard now, jutting up like he’s trying to reach for me. I’ve had it in my hand, felt it in my palm. What does it taste like? I read somewhere that it can depend on a man’s diet. I can’t remember the specifics, though, so I have no idea what that means in reference to Kendrick. Only one way to find out.
“Spence?”
“Mmm?”
“Get up. You’re being ridiculous.”
I’m not, and I quite like it down here. I wrap my hand around his shaft and give an experimental tug. He moans, spurring me on. I flick my tongue against the tip, and Kendrick slaps a hand on the tiled wall behind me, his knees buckling, legs shaking. Damn, that’s hot.
“Spence, stop it.”
I frown and pull back. “Do you not like it?” A horrible thought occurs to me. “Am I doing it wrong?” Shit. I should have asked more questions instead of just diving in.
Kendrick’s free hand tangles in my hair. “Oh, baby, no. You’re fucking perfect.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Why is he stopping me if I’m not fucking it up?
He licks his lips, and I track it, loving the way it gives them a glistening shine. “You really want to?”
“I really want to. Let me,” I whisper. My mouth is practically watering at the idea of getting to taste him like this. Of being the one that makes him feel good. I gave it to him the other day, and now I’m the only one who will. The only one who can. I’ll kill anyone else who even thinks about it.
“ Jesus , Spence.”
“Please?” I’m not just asking about sucking him off, and he knows it. I’m on my knees for so much more than that. He has to let me in because I’ll die if he doesn’t.
Kendrick glides his hand through my hair and tips my head up, searching my face. “You never have to beg for me, Spence. You want it? It’s yours.”
I love this man more than I could ever get into words. “Tell me how to make you feel good. I want to be better than anyone else who’s been on their knees for you.” I want him to look at me and never see anyone else. For the pleasure that I give him to drown out everything else until all he can think about is me, and every other memory disappears. Until there’s nothing left but me.
“You already are.”
The words undo me. They rip me apart until I’m raw and bloody and so fucking happy that it hurts. “I love you.”
His dick twitches, and he wipes the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “Yeah? Show me.”
I can do that. I can more than do that. I’m going to make it so good for him.
He tastes musky and masculine. Cut, with his mushroomed head all but begging to be touched. His balls fit perfectly in my mouth, and the sounds he makes when I roll them around with my tongue are fucking perfect. Every moan and tug of my hair encourages me to keep going. His dick hardens even more in my palm as I stroke and suck and slowly explore him. His every reaction to me has pleasure roaring through me like a tidal wave. I’m bigger than a giant. Walking on water. The luckiest goddamn man on the planet. Because he’s mine, and I’m not giving him up.
I replace my mouth with my hand, massaging his balls, and go back to mouthing his shaft. So much to play with. I’ve never thought about it before, and any time I’ve had a blowjob it’s been… fine. I guess? It got the job done but was nothing memorable. I don’t want this to be like that. I want Kendrick to remember it forever. And come back wanting more.
His silky skin tingles my lips, an unfamiliar texture I can definitely get used to. And then the head of his cock is against my lips. I pause there, looking up to find him watching me intently. His own lips are parted, breathing hard. He looks incredible like this. Hot and bothered because of me . I suck the tip into my mouth, and he swallows visibly, nostrils flaring.
His taste bursts on my tongue, a subtle hint of him that I want more of. Without taking any more of him in, I focus on the smooth, mushroomed tip. His face is so open that it’s easy to see how he responds to everything. He likes it when I lick the slit. Likes it even more when I roll my tongue around the underside of his head. Likes it best when I suckle and hollow my cheeks, creating suction and adding pressure.
With one last flick, keeping him on my tongue, I pull back. “Good?” I ask, needing the reassurance that I’m doing it right.
He strokes my hair, and I lean into it. If I were a cat, I’d be purring. “So fucking good,” he replies hoarsely.
I slide my hand further back, to the crease of his ass, and brush over his hole lightly. The muscles clench under my touch. “Still good?”
He spreads his legs a little wider, giving me room. “Whatever you want, Spence.”
Heat rushes through me. “Do we have lube in here?” I know that he jerks off in here when I get him worked up, so there has to be some, right? Even I know a dry tug doesn’t feel great. It doesn’t matter that it’s my bathroom— ours now. He lived here even before he lived here.
He reaches behind himself and then hands me a small tube. It’s the same stuff he has at his place. I need to buy a whole bunch more for him. For us.
It only takes a second to cover my fingers and reach back through his legs. His hand tightens in my hair when I slip the first inside him. Fucking hell, it feels like he’s sucking me in, squeezing around me, beckoning me. The unbelievable heat is a surprise. It gets even better when I add a second finger, the muscles tight and unyielding. The expressions flitting over Kendrick’s face make it even better.
“I’m the only one that’s been here.” Each time I slide back in it gets easier, his muscles stretching to accommodate me, loosening to let me in. How wide can he go? Could I fit my whole hand in there? Would he let me try?
Yes. He would.
“Only you.”
“You’ll never give this to anyone else.” It’s not a question.
Kendrick brushes his knuckles over my face. “No, Spence.” He bites his lips when I add a third finger. I’m worried I’m not going to fit, but I do. “Okay?” Is this good for him?
“I promise you that it’s more than okay. Whatever you want to do, I’m going to enjoy it, I promise.”
“You haven’t done this before.”
“Neither have you.”
A first, for both of us. Fuck, that sounds good.
“Do you want me to keep sucking you?” I ask, teasing.
“Do I want you to?” he repeats in a choked tone.
I wink and then lick him from base to tip again, giving his length extra-special attention, getting it wet from more than just the shower spray. Covering him in me.
My eyes slide closed when I wrap my lips around him again. I could get drunk on the sounds he’s making. He loves this so much, and I wish I’d done it sooner.
Taking more in, he feels almost too heavy and wide. My thrusting fingers falter, my focus shifting to accommodating his size. Trying to relax my mouth. It’s foreign and a little uncomfortable how wide my lips are being forced. He suddenly seems so much bigger than before.
“No, don’t try to take it all,” Kendrick says gently, using my hair to coax me off him. “Use your hand. On the base and stroke—yeah, just like that. Hand where your mouth can’t reach. Perfect. Fucking perfect .” The words end on a groan that fuels me.
That makes it easier to focus on the part of him in my mouth, using my tongue to explore and lick everywhere. My fingers have stopped moving, but there’s something nice about being inside him like this while I focus on his dick. And from his harsh breathing, moans, and the way he’s trying to rip my hair out of my skull, Kendrick’s having a good time. And that’s all I need to keep me going.
The more I bob on his cock, awkwardly trying to coordinate my hand movement on the rest of his length, the more I like it too. My lips are tingling, oversensitive and bruised, and it feels better than I could have imagined. Kendrick’s dick is in my mouth, and he’s getting off on it. Not even the ache in my jaw can take that from me.
“You’re doing so good,” Kendrick praises me, softening his touch. “The way you look with my cock in your mouth…” He glides his fingers through my hair and thumbs my skin as he speaks. I preen under the compliment and suck harder. A mix of sweet and bitter fills my mouth, and I instantly recognise what it is. Pre-cum. He’s getting close.
Arousal slowly builds as I taste him, like he’s directly feeding it to me. It moves down, swirling in my gut and thickening my cock. It’s a dull ache, a need for release. I don’t want to pull my fingers out of him, so I use my other hand to reach down and hold myself. That feels nice too.
“ Fuck ,” Kendrick breaths out, his cock throbbing in my mouth. “Are you hard?”
I moan around him in answer, unwilling to stop to give him verbal confirmation. I want to make him come and swallow all of it. It’s almost mine, I can tell by just how much of his pre-release is coating my mouth.
His hips jerk, and he hits the back of my throat. I choke in surprise, and he pulls all the way out immediately. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Spence. I didn’t mean to—are you alright?”
Instead of answering, I swallow him down again. He surprised me, but the idea that he’s lost enough to his own pleasure to fuck my mouth is the best feeling in the world. Instead of jerking myself, I hold his hip and encourage him to do it again. He does, shallower this time, mindful of not choking me again. I can’t say I don’t appreciate it. I don’t think I’m ready for deep throating just yet. I can practice more. We have all the time in the world.
Once he’s got a rhythm that’s comfortable for us both, I go back to fisting my cock, speeding up. I don’t know if I’ll get there in time, but I’ll try. I don’t care if I come at all, I just need him to.
His moans get louder, every thrust of his hips more erratic and uncontrolled. Even then, he still keeps himself from choking me, from going too deep. Even at the height of his frenzy, he’s still thinking about me and my comfort.
He tries to pull me off him, and I growl. No . I got him here, this is mine, and I’ll have all of it. He doesn’t get to take that from me.
“Fuck. Baby, I’m about to come. You need to—”
I suck harder, bob faster, eager and desperate. Yes . This is what I want. It’s mine. Mine.
His moan deepens, and then he’s groaning out my name, and bittersweet cum fills my mouth. I’m not sure how I feel about the taste, but it doesn’t matter. It’s Kendrick , and I make sure to swallow every fucking drop and then lick his cock until there’s nothing left.
Once I’m satisfied that I’ve gotten it all, I rest my forehead on his thigh and leisurely finger his ass, not quite ready to stop yet. He shivers and splays his hands over the top of my head.
“Bit sensitive.”
I pause. “Should I stop?”
“No, baby.” He tips my head up, thumbs resting on my jaw. “You like that?”
I don’t really know what part specifically he’s talking about, but the answer’s easy, regardless. “Yeah.” I like all of it. Any of it. Anything that we do together. I made him come, again, and it’s something I could easily get addicted to. Being the source of his pleasure in a visceral way. More than just theoretical. More than him getting himself off in the shower because of me. I did this, all the way.
“You’re still hard.”
Oh. I am. I give a little shrug and focus on where I’m still fingering him. Would a fourth—I bite my lip as I nudge another in. God damn that’s fantastic.
Kendrick brushes his knuckles down my cheek. “Don’t you want to come?”
I can take it or leave it, really. If I keep stroking myself, then I’ll inevitably come. And I know it will feel good. I’m also feeling good right here.
I nuzzle his cock, suck the tip back in my mouth, my fingers inside him. He shudders above me, a choked moan urging me on.
“Touch yourself,” he begs. “Please, I need—”
I do it, for him. Whatever he needs is what I need. Somehow knowing that he wants it makes it feel even better when I wrap my hand around my cock. Like it’s his hand. Like my need is his. It’s not about me. It’s about him.
“Will you come for me, Spence?”
If that’s what he wants.
Except that I can’t. No matter how much I stroke, how much I suck, or how much I spread him, getting deeper. It feels good, better than any other sexual experience that I’ve had. And yet, even with him this close, it feels like something is missing. I pull off in frustration. “Ken… I need—” I don’t know what I need. Am I broken? The last time I tried to have sex, I couldn’t finish either. Maybe I’m just not supposed to. It never bothered me before. But he wants it, and I want to give it to him, and I can’t, and I hate it. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” he chides gently. “No. No apologies. Tell me what you need.”
“I don’t know,” I burst out. I pull out of him too fast, and he hisses, making me feel worse. Getting to my feet is awkward, and I slip, falling against him. “I’m sorry.” I go to turn and get the fuck out of there when he grasps me, keeping me attached to his chest.
“Shh,” he soothes. “Tell me what you need, Spencer. Please.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m trying—I want to, for you—”
“Is it because I’m a guy?”
What? “Ken, I just had your dick in my mouth and my fingers in your ass, and I loved it. No, it’s not the fact you’re a guy.”
“Don’t get like that.” His voice is soft, even. He’s not matching my irritation with any of his own. It helps settle the unease boiling inside me. “I’m going down the list, and that one’s the most obvious. Do you want some help, baby?”
Do I—Oh. Maybe? “What if you try, and I still—”
“I already told you before that it’s not a failure if this doesn’t work.”
It did work, though. I loved every second of it, and I want to do it again. I want to try more. But on him, not on me. All I want to do is make him feel good. That’s what makes me feel good.
His knuckles trail down my arm and then around to my back. I shiver, leaning into the touch, and burrow further into his chest. He shifts us only enough to get his hand between us, and then he’s holding my dick, and oh my god . His hand is bigger than mine, rougher, so much fucking better.
He tilts my chin up with his own and goes to kiss me. Wait, he can’t do that. I pull out of his reach in a knee-jerk reaction.
He frowns, his strokes stopping. “What’s wrong?”
“You came in my mouth.” He needs to at least wait until I’ve brushed my teeth.
He chuckles and then pulls me in, our mouths meeting before I can react. He demands entrance with his tongue, and I open helplessly. His softening cock rests against my thigh, and the feel of it is electric.
His hand moves again, stroking me with a firm grip. “How’s that? Does it feel good?”
“Yes.” I chase his mouth, but he doesn’t give it to me.
“The truth, Spence. Don’t you dare just say ‘yes’ because you think it’s what I want to hear.”
He flicks his thumb over my head, and I moan as a spark races up my dick and into my stomach. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything even close to this, and it’s almost too much. I don’t know that I want to feel like this all the time. Too ripped open and raw. But I want it now. I want him now.
“I think—yes. Don’t stop, please.” Make me come. Make me yours.
He kisses me again. It fuels the flames spreading out and taking over me. I clutch at him as he brings me to orgasm. It isn’t explosive like his, there are no fireworks or stars behind my eyes. It’s comfortable and warm and so much brighter simply because it’s for him. The look on his face as I come is worth everything.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, lips pressed to my cheek. “So fucking beautiful, Spence.”
He’s worth everything.