CHAPTER SIX
Declan
Spencer stared at me. His mouth was slightly open and his blue eyes were wide with shock. He was still standing, his chair pushed back. The restaurant noises hummed around us, but it felt like we were in our own little world.
“You want to invite me back to your place,” he repeated slowly, as if testing whether the words made sense when he said them.
“Yeah.” My heart was hammering, but I kept my voice steady. “If you want to.”
He laughed, a short, bewildered sound. “I thought you were straight.”
“I’m not.”
He blinked. “Since when?”
“Since always.” I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling exposed in a way I hadn’t anticipated. I’d imagined this going smoother. “I’m bisexual. I just didn’t advertise it in Portland.”
Spencer stared at me for another long moment. “Why would you want me to come home with you if you think I was using you for information?”
“That wasn’t what I was saying.” I winced because I had kind of said that. “Or that wasn’t what I was trying to say. I… I was trying to lay down some ground rules, that’s all. It came out all wrong. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I don’t think you’re devious.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I let out a shaky breath. “I was simply trying to make it clear that I have to be really careful, or I could lose my job. I wanted to be sure we were on the same page, but obviously, I went about it all wrong.”
“Oh.” Some tension left his shoulders, and he looked less angry. “Well, I guess it’s okay.”
“Is it?” I held his gaze. “Is it okay enough for you to forgive me and come home with me?”
He hesitated. “Maybe.”
“You sure?”
“You’re the one who needs to be sure.” His voice was rough. His eyes dropped to my mouth and came back up. “You’re the one worried about your job.”
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure about anything.
I wasn’t sure this wasn’t a terrible idea.
I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t regret it in the morning, or that it wouldn’t complicate every professional interaction we’d ever have going forward.
What I was sure about was that I’d been thinking about Spencer for weeks, and I was tired of pretending I wasn’t.
“Is it a great idea? Who knows. But it’s what I want,” I said. “I don’t think I made that very clear earlier. I was too busy insulting you.” I grimaced. “Sorry. I haven’t done this since being in Coral Cove, and not that often back in Portland.”
He held my gaze for a beat, and something shifted in his expression. The surprise faded, and something more along the lines of longing took its place. “I didn’t think this would ever happen with you.”
“Well, it’s happening.” I laughed gruffly. “Do you want to do it?”
His lips suddenly quirked upward. “Yeah. I do if you do.”
I gave a relieved grunt. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”
I left cash on the table because I didn’t want to wait for a card to process. Spencer did the same. We walked out of the Salt & Cleaver side by side, not touching, but close enough that I could smell his shampoo in the cool night air and hear his soft breaths.
When we reached the parking lot, I realized I hadn’t thought about the logistics of things until that moment. “I drove here.”
“I walked,” he said.
“Then I’ll drive us both to my place, if that’s okay with you.”
He nodded. “That works.”
The ride to my house was five minutes that felt like fifty.
Neither of us said much. Spencer sat in the passenger seat with his hands on his thighs.
I focused on the road and tried to remember the last time I’d been this nervous about taking someone home.
It had been a while. Years. The last man I’d been with was in Portland, a one-night thing with a guy I met at a bar in the Pearl District.
We’d both been drunk, and neither of us had exchanged numbers.
This was different. This was someone I knew.
Someone I liked. That made it better and scarier in equal measure.
I pulled into the driveway of my modest three-bedroom house and cut the engine. The motion-sensor porch light clicked on, bathing the front of the house in yellow light.
Spencer looked at the house. “So this is where the chief of police lives.”
“It’s the town’s house, not mine.” I laughed. “Comes with the job.”
“It’s nice.”
“It’s fine.” I smiled. “It’s a place to sleep. If I end up staying in Coral Cove, I’ll probably buy a place of my own.”
He frowned. “If?”
I shrugged. “I don’t plan on leaving, but who knows.” I laughed roughly. “A sexy reporter might end up getting my ass fired.”
He cringed. “Shit, Declan, don’t say that.”
We got out of the car and walked up the brick path.
I hadn’t brought anyone home with me since moving to Coral Cove, and now, seeing the house through Spencer’s eyes, I realized how unimpressive the place was.
It was a white cottage-style home with blue shutters.
Near the porch, there were a couple of rectangular planters that held marigolds and geraniums. Overall, the impression was generic and boring.
“I haven’t had any time to work on the place,” I said ruefully.
“I’m not judging.” He bumped my shoulder with his. “It’s cute.”
I laughed. “Liar. It’s dull. It looks like somewhere an old lady with six cats would live. I plan on putting in some more interesting landscaping, but it hasn’t been a priority.”
He frowned. “Nor should it be. You haven’t been in Coral Cove that long. I know for a fact you work long hours. Your lawn is green, and the place looks neat and orderly. What else do you need?”
“Since you asked.” I grinned. “I was thinking maybe some lilacs along the porch on a trellis. Oh, and some rose bushes and a bird bath. Every yard should have a water feature, don’t you think?”
“Of course,” he said agreeably. As we walked up the small flight of steps, Spencer smiled, taking in the wind chimes hanging in the corner and the welcome mat that had a paw print pattern. “See, you’ve put your own touches.”
“My mom sent me the wind chimes,” I confessed.
“But the doormat is all me, baby. Well, me and Scout.” I unlocked the front door, and Scout launched himself at my legs, and we stumbled inside.
Scout immediately diverted to Spencer, thrilled to have a visitor, tail going like a propeller.
Spencer crouched down and let Scout lick his face, laughing while the dog wiggled against him.
“Hey, buddy.” Spencer scratched behind Scout’s ears. “You must be Scout.”
“He has no manners,” I said, grimacing at the way Scout was trying to lick Spencer’s face. “Sorry, just push him away.”
“Push him away?” Spencer looked up at me aghast. “I wouldn’t think of it. I love dogs.”
He did seem unbothered by Scout’s enthusiasm. Still, I ushered Scout out the back door so he could go potty. When I returned, Spencer was slowly walking around the living room, peering at the photos of my family that I had on the mantle.
I ran my gaze over his lean frame, pulse spiking with excitement. I could hardly believe Spencer was here. In my house. Soon he’d be in my bed, and the thought of that left me breathless. I pulled in a calming breath because I was getting ahead of myself.
“You want a drink?” I asked politely.
“I don’t think I need a drink,” he said, casually brushing dog hair off his jeans. He glanced up, his eyes glittering. “Do you?”
“No.”
He smiled and moved toward me, and my heartrate picked up at the hungry look in his eyes.
When he was close, I slipped my arm around him and tugged him against my body.
Then I lowered my mouth and took my first taste of Spencer.
His lips were warm and firm, and they opened willingly to my tongue.
He moaned, and I pressed closer, delving deeper into his warm mouth.
God, I’d wanted this for weeks. I’d craved his taste and longed to touch him so bad, I’d actually jerked off thinking about him a few times.
But Spencer in the flesh tasted and felt way better than fantasy Spencer.
I ran my hands down his muscular back, cupping his ass and squeezing those firm cheeks.
“Man, I wanna fuck you,” I whispered, nuzzling below his ear. “You want that?”
“Are you serious?” His voice was hoarse. “Fuck yeah, I want that. I’ve wanted that since I first saw you on the dock.”
I pulled back, laughing. “Really? Even though I was kind of a jerk to you that day?”
“Sure. Why not?” He smirked. “Jerks sometimes fuck like stallions.”
“True.” I laughed, taking his mouth in a greedy kiss.
His hands moved to my shoulders, then my neck, fingers threading into the short hair at my nape. He kissed me back, sucking on my tongue and rocking against me. I slid my hand down his front, between his thighs, cupping his cock. He was hard, just like me. I couldn’t wait to be inside him.
“Bedroom,” I said against his mouth. “Now.”
“God, yes.”
Scout came back inside through the pet door, collar jangling as he circled our legs.
“Scout, go to bed,” I said firmly, and the dog turned and trotted off into my room, where his dog bed was.
Spencer laughed. “Damn, he’s well trained.”
“He’s a good boy,” I murmured. “Now, let’s see, are you a good boy?”
“Not really.” He smirked.
We made it halfway down the hallway before I pushed him up against the wall and started stripping his clothes off.
He unbuttoned my shirt with trembling fingers, our mouths joined as we shared desperate, warm breaths.
I unzipped my jeans, and he shed his pants, and then we were both naked, hungrily kissing.
I held him against the wall, nudging his legs wider. He sucked the skin where my neck joined my shoulder, moaning. Our cocks were pressed together, and we both instinctively started slowly humping against each other, seeking delicious friction.
“Maybe I’ll just take you right here, up against this wall,” I rasped, pinning him harder against the wall.
He threw his head back, moaning. “Yeah? No condom?”
“Sure,” I panted, excited at the thought of that. “I’d love to feel your tight, bare hole squeezing my cock.”