Chapter 13
In the morning, Spencer was already up, scrolling on his phone, lying on his side, the covers down to his hips. He turned to Duncan when he felt him stir, showing him a message.
Duncan blinked, pushing himself on his elbow. Squinting to read.
-the painting has been placed. A prime place. You should come and see it.
Spencer took the phone back. “Neat, huh? My mother gave her my number for sure.”
“Maybe she just wants to show you the painting.”
Spencer met his eyes, unable to read them, to see if he was bullshitting him. “Really? You don’t even believe your own words… she wants to fuck me, and you know it.”
“And how do you want to play this?”
Spencer rolled against him, putting his palm on his chest. “I’ll go and you’ll come, and guard my ass, as you’re supposed to, and then take me out of there.”
“Or… you’ll get drunk, high, high and drunk, and you’ll send me outside and let her have her way.”
Spencer smirked. “Then just take me out. Haul me on your shoulder.”
“I can’t. Not without being totally suspicious. Or unprofessional.”
“Shit…” Spencer caught that bite mark at the base of Duncan’s neck, and grazed it. “Sexy…”
“It hurts like fuck.”
“When I bite? Good. I want it to hurt… so you don’t forget me.” Cupping his face, he kissed him, hard, giving a small bite to his lower lip.
A soft moan. “Fuck… stop it…”
Spencer grinned. “You don’t even mean it, now, do you? You love this…”
“Smartass…” But he kissed him back, letting Spencer nibble at his lip, that small pain sending shockwaves down his spine. What the fuck… trying to remember when pain had crawled under his skin.
Spencer smoothed his hand on his cheek. “Take me to her… and then save my ass. Please.”
“Alright… try not to get to drunk or fucked up.”
“Right. I’ll try.” He glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Time to go home then and prepare. I’ll tell her we’re going tonight.
” Typing, waiting for the reply. “Splendid. Tonight it is for dinner, eight o’clock, casual.
” He scoffed, tossing the phone on the covers.
“Let’s shower.” He grazed his abs. “We made a mess.” Smiling, wide, something he rarely did, and Duncan was lost a bit in his sight.
Spencer looked at him. “Daydreaming already? I hope you’re dreaming about my ass in that shower.”
“Maybe…”
“Come, then.” Tugging at his hand. “Let’s not just dream.”
“I’m not sure fucking in the shower is a great idea…”
Spencer pulled at him. “It’s a great idea. I’ve never done it and I want to do it with you.”
Duncan got out of bed and followed Spencer to that large shower.
Watching him turn it on, that large shower head raining warm water.
He pulled Duncan under it, kissing him, straight away, and Duncan was lost, pushing Spencer against that dark brown stone wall laced with golden veins.
Hauling him up, and Spencer laced his legs around his waist, panting against that soaked skin, kissing his neck, licking it as Duncan pushed in.
Spencer tensed against him.
“I told you… not a fucking great idea…”
“Shut up…” Kissing his words away, he tightened his legs on Duncan, pushing his hips down. “Fuck… ah…”
Duncan just rocked him, trapping him between the wall and his body, holding him up as Spencer clung to his neck.
His teeth against that thick trapezium muscle, and Duncan knew, he fucking knew Spencer was going to bite down when he came.
Anticipating that pain, it made him even hornier, somehow.
Moaning, both of them, panting, rocking together.
Feeling Spencer clench on him, it made him come too, riding that sharp pain when Spencer just bit down, moaning, his mouth filled with Duncan’s skin and flesh.
Rocking under that warm water, slow, riding that aftermath, waves of them.
Kissing, wide, letting the water flow into their mouths, down their bodies.
Spencer broke it, grinning. “Now that I lost my shower virginity, we can soap up and go.”
Duncan brushed his thumb on his lower lip. “Shower virginity… what the fuck...”
Spencer laughed, the water pearling down his hair, his eyelashes. “Yes… and many more virginities to lose….” Kissing him. “Many more…”
“We have to go…”
Spencer’s eyes shone. “Do we?”
“I mean…”
Spencer just sealed his mouth, killing his words.
Driving to that huge house on another rich hill, the driveway long from that wrought iron gate, the whole place was stinking money.
Duncan mused a bit how the fuck people just became rich.
Inherited shit. Something Spencer just had fallen into as soon as he had gotten pushed out of his mother’s womb.
Something he wouldn’t have to work for, ever.
What the fuck are we even doing? Scared a bit of where their fucking around would lead, could lead…
Shit. Parking the car facing the drive, ready to leave, he went and opened the door to Spencer, helping him out.
Spencer had dressed in black pants, boots, and a black silk shirt with green patterns and multi-colored flowers. A light makeup on his eyes, and his chocolate lipstick.
Their eyes met, and Spencer smirked. “How do I look?”
“She’ll like you.”
“That wasn’t the intent but ok… is it ‘cursed artist’ enough?”
“I guess so.”
Spencer glanced around and grabbed Duncan’s cock through his pants. Watching his eyes go wide. His voice, hoarse. “Are you hard? Mhm?” He licked his lips.
Duncan breathed softly and pried Spencer’s hand away. “Fuck you.”
Grinning. “You are… Flattering. I hope you can walk.” Giving him a wink, his tongue stuck between his teeth.
He walked up the stairs then, and Duncan followed, cursing in his head.
They got taken to a huge living room with dark brown walls laced with gold, maybe one of many, a fireplace lit fuck knew why in summer, and Spencer’s painting hung above it. A prime place, even if it looked out of place in that artificial space of faux luxury.
Mrs Blakely walked to them. Dressed in a plain white jumpsuit and golden sandals with heels, she had her hair down in thick waves.
She kissed Spencer on the cheek and gestured at Duncan. “You can send your guard out, I have protection here, we’re safe.” She cocked her head to a guy dressed in black, his hands in front of him, standing on the far side of the room.
Spencer smiled. “I’d like him to stay if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
Duncan met the guy’s eyes. Scanning his face then, his body.
Tall, but leaner than him, blond with short hair.
His eyes, a pale blue. That small mocking curve on his lips.
Asshat. He laced his hands together and waited near the wall, knowing he had to keep an eye on Spencer who had already sat on that crème leather sofa facing the fireplace and the painting.
Champagne poured into their glasses straight away by a maid who then disappeared.
Mrs Blakely turned to Spencer, pushing one leg on the sofa. “So… I’m thrilled that you came after all. Your mother had hinted at you hesitating?”
Spencer sipped on his drink. “Ah… my mother thinks she knows everything but it’s not so, Mrs Blakely.”
“Oh, please…” She grazed her hand on Spencer’s arm resting on the sofa’s back. “No Mrs Blakely for you. Just call me Olivia.” Clinking her glass against Spencer’s. “I hope we can be friends? No need for formalities.”
“As you wish.” Spencer took his arm down and laced his hands around his glass.
“What do you think of the placement?”
Spencer glanced at the painting. “It’s perfect.”
“I want to buy more of your works. Selling any time soon?”
“I have an exhibition coming up.”
She reached for the bottle and refilled their glasses. “Glad to hear. I hope I’m invited?”
“Of course.” Drinking, it made his blood warm, relaxing that initial caution. Remembering Duncan’s words but he shrugged them off. I can hold my drinks…
She reached to the table and took a metallic case, taking two joints out. Lighting one, she handed it to Spencer, with her lipstick’s imprint on the tip. “Here… good stuff…”
Spencer just took it and dragged on it, deep. Holding the smoke in, feeling how strong it was.
She smiled, blowing the smoke to the ceiling. “A special little cocktail… you’ll like it, I’m sure.”
Spencer just blinked at that sudden dizziness. Drowsy, he wasn’t even sure why the world was turning a bit. “Wow…”
“Told you…” Watching Spencer smoke, his eyelids flutter as his body went a bit slack in that sofa.
Spencer tried to blink that daze away, but it had flooded his blood and brain. A futile thought, that maybe this was wrong, but it never made it into a real worry. Chuckling, he let her take the joint out of his fingers, scoot closer and put her hands on his thighs.
Spencer raised his eyes into hers, his head swimming as he was trying to form some words. “We shouldn’t…”
“Why not?” Stroking his thighs, she leant on him, gliding a hand on his chest, nudging his shirt open at the top. “Why not?”
“I…” He swayed and let her seal his mouth. Kissing her back, fuck knew why, his blood flaming up. Letting her push her hand under his shirt, on his skin. His hands found her back, stroking.
Duncan just watched them make out, boiling.
Not because he was kissing her, but because he was doing everything he had said he wouldn’t do.
Shit. Hoping he didn’t have to assist to her fucking Spencer on the sofa.
Torn too, because he knew Spencer was totally wasted and probably not in his right mind to decide on anything.
That mocking light in the other guard’s eyes, standing close to the door.
Oh, ok… Duncan looked back at them, watching her lie on Spencer, their mouths wide open as they kissed. Hands roaming clothes and skin.
Somehow, Spencer had opened his eyes, somehow, he had turned his head, and met Duncan’s eyes. Some clarity seeping in, a moment of it, clinging to his pissed grey eyes. Feeling her weight on him, her lips nibbling his neck. What… he pushed at her, dizzy.
“No… no…”