7. Spencer
7
SPENCER
“I t’s been great. I feel like I’ve found my niche, you know?” What was left of our meals sat in front of us, cold by now. I had lost interest in my grilled salmon long before then. Not that it wasn’t good.
The conversation was better. She was better. It took nothing more than two glasses of wine and a little food to loosen her up. Now, there was no holding her back.
And I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t interested. When had I had a conversation with a woman for the sake of conversation? Somewhere over the past two hours, my intentions had shifted. Right now, this had nothing to do with getting on her good side or covering my ass. “Making sure girls like you don’t get taken advantage of by predatory studio executives?” I asked, noting her smirk.
“Yes, now that you put it that way. I know what to look for. And I know what it’s like to be so young and hungry for success that you’d be willing to look the other way in certain situations.” A cloud passed over her face like she was remembering something ugly, and the idea stirred anger in my chest. Had she been taken advantage of back then?
“What about you?” She finished the second glass of wine, setting it aside and leaning her elbows on the table, eyes sparkling playfully. It seemed like she was unaware of the attention she drew from men as they passed our table. I was aware of the way one animal recognizes the other out in the wild. Back the fuck off , I silently warned one such douchebag as he practically undressed her with his eyes. She’s mine tonight.
“What about me?” I asked once my attention swung back to her and that glowing, tempting skin of hers. How much longer would I be able to keep my hands to myself?
“You said you would tell me how you ended up in tech.” Her glossy lips stretched in a smile, drawing my gaze and waking my hunger. “I’ve been looking forward to hearing about it.”
“Sorry to tell you, but I don’t think the payoff will be worth the anticipation.” When that didn’t seem to make a difference, I chuckled. “I was working in China. Dad sent me there to ‘ turn me into a real person…’ his words,” I added with a humorless snort.
“Nice,” she muttered, shaking her head with a frown.
“Come on. We both know he had a point. He wanted me to learn more about the shipping business so I could step into his shoes when the time came. His plan backfired when I discovered logistics and how to streamline our processes. I started screwing around behind the scenes, digging into our data, learning how we harvested it and applied it to our growth. I even started looking forward to going to work.”
“Wow. That’s what you call finding what you’re meant to do. I’m glad for you,” she offered with a soft smile.
“It looks like we both found the path they were supposed to be on,” I observed. It would be best to keep the rest of it to myself. She didn’t need to hear about the crash being the catalyst since Dad sent me to China within a week after it. I wouldn’t insult her that way.
One thing was for sure by the time we gave up on eating and allowed the server to clear the table—the woman sitting across from me was miles away from the one who had barely stopped short of throwing her drink in my face two nights ago. She needed to get over the initial shock, to process what she was feeling. Come to think of it, so had I.
However, now that I had, the lines between what I needed to do and what I wanted to do were getting blurrier every minute. I’d told myself tonight would be about reminding her of the good times. What made us good together. The thing was, I was starting to remember that for myself.
And I wanted more.
Not for the patent. Not for my employees. Only for me. “I have an idea.” Finishing my drink, I set the glass on the table and offered a challenging stare. “Why don’t we enjoy a nightcap somewhere quieter, where we can continue this conversation?”
Her smirk showed up right on schedule. “Come on. You must have a smoother line than that.”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t normally need to use a line.” When she rolled her eyes, I shrugged. “I haven’t had much practice.”
“Tonight was about dinner, remember?” What was it in her tone that told me she didn’t mind? That knowing, teasing sound, so unlike a sharp rebuke. She had expected this.
“Dinner has been over for an hour, in case you didn’t notice.” I looked down at our plates, and she did the same. “I’m much more interested in you. If it would make you feel better, we can have a conversation in some packed, airless club. I wonder how long we would last before our voices gave out from all the screaming.” She hesitated, giving me no choice but to break out the big guns. “I will bug the shit out of you every single day. You know I’ll do it. I’m not going to let up until I’m satisfied.”
“Exactly when will you be satisfied?”
A slow smile stretched my lips. “I couldn’t tell you. It hasn’t happened yet.”
I had her. I knew it the second she grinned. “One drink at your place. I’ll set a timer on my phone.”
“You know how to make a man feel appreciated.” She laughed off my sarcasm, waiting for me to settle the check while she pulled out her phone. “Don’t tell me you’re doing it now,” I groaned, nodding to the device.
“No, for fuck’s sake.” She was chuckling as her thumbs tapped the screen. “Texting my sister, if you must know.”
The Rowan I used to know would have almost swooned at the sight of the Bentley waiting for us at the curb once we left the restaurant. “Wow. They brought the car without you having to request it.” That was what impressed her. Not the vehicle. She was a sophisticated woman now, not a wide-eyed girl.
“It’s the little touches. This place is owned by a good friend of mine,” I explained. “He’s always talking about ways to set his businesses apart from the rest.”
“Very smart.” She wore a playful grin as she took my hand, allowing me to help her into the car. “Look at you, having smart friends. Times have changed.”
She was right, which was why I couldn’t do anything but laugh, closing the door. It wasn’t long before we were on our way, the apartment only minutes from the restaurant, even on a Saturday night when traffic was dense. It occurred to me I wouldn’t have minded getting stuck with her. It would mean an excuse to spend more time together.
There was something about her that was magic. I didn’t have to pretend, didn’t have to show off. I could be myself. How rare was that?
It was only when I pulled into the building's attached garage that she realized where we were. “Wait a second. You still live here? In the same building?”
“Same building. Same penthouse.”
“Get out! I guess some things don’t change.” She was laughing softly by the time we parked and headed into the lobby, shaking her head as she looked around at what hadn’t changed much over the years. “My God. I feel like a time traveler. This is too funny.”
“I remember you always loved the view,” I reminded her, prompting her to smile up at me as the elevator carried us to the top floor. That smile. I had yet to meet another woman who radiated that tempting touch of wickedness. It was alluring, like so much about her. Heat raced through me and made my hands tremble with the need to touch her.
What a time for the elevator doors to slide open onto a quiet hallway directly across from my front door. Once I entered the passcode on the keypad, I swung it open and stepped aside, allowing her to enter first.
“You’re kidding.” She barely stifled a squeal, her heels clicking on the hardwood as she entered the living room. Tossing her purse on the couch, she turned in a slow circle.
“Like it?” I asked.
“This is such a trip.” She laced her fingers on top of her head and blew out a heavy sigh that puffed her cheeks and pursed her lips. “It’s just like I remembered it.”
Which meant she had been thinking about it. I knew it. Running into each other had stirred up just as many memories for her as it had for me.
“I can’t believe you kept the place.” There was wonder in her eyes once she stopped gawking long enough to look my way. “All this time? You haven’t been living here in Beverly Hills, have you?”
“No, the townhouse in San Francisco is home base. Close to the office. But with my family living nearby and friends out here, it made sense to keep the place.”
She shot me a snide look on her way to the window. “A penthouse in Beverly Hills and a townhouse in San Fran. No need to brag.”
“I don’t have a need to brag. You know that.” Motioning toward the bar opposite the sofa, I asked, “Drink? I have a nice Pinot Grigio you’d like.”
Her brow furrowed long enough to tell me she was arguing with herself, but it was a short-lived argument. “Sure. But only one glass,” she added, holding up a finger.
“Don’t worry,” I assured her as I rounded the bar and reached underneath into the wine refrigerator. “I’m not trying to get you drunk and have my way with you. Though I’m not against the idea, either.”
When she didn’t snap at me, a warm sensation that felt a lot like victory swelled in my chest. She was loosening up, letting her guard down. That dress was as good as puddled on my bedroom floor. I would have to ask her to keep the shoes on. I practically felt the heels digging into my ass cheeks as I poured the crisp wine into a glass.
“I forgot how beautiful the view is from here.” She was staring out the window, her back to me as I approached with her drink. The glow from so many lights below highlighted her hourglass figure to perfection. The woman was temptation itself, and no matter how I reminded myself not to push her too hard, there was only so long I could deny the natural need to reach out and stroke her arm.
Instead, I settled for touching her shoulder while I handed her the wine. It was electric. There was no other word for it, no way to explain it. It was undeniable, either way, the tremor that ran through me and demanded I take her in my arms. It was natural, as necessary as breathing. I had to hold her again. For closure, if for no other reason.
At least, that was what I told myself.
“Thank you.” Her fingers stroked mine as she took hold of the glass, and I knew. She was in this with me. She wanted this as much as I did. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have come here, wouldn’t be looking at me the way she was, staring up at me with those big, shining eyes that held more truth than I’d ever seen anywhere else.
The air between us crackled when she turned to face me, swaying a little, leaning in. I lowered my head far enough to inhale the perfume in her hair, something sweet and floral with a hint of musk running underneath it. I needed that scent on my skin, on my pillows, all around me.
“What are we doing?” she asked, her voice faint.
“You tell me.” My mouth grazed the top of her head while the backs of my fingers ran up and down her bare arms, enticing her, making her shiver.
“This shouldn’t happen.” Her whisper was weak, though, and she didn’t lean away. No, she tipped her head back, hot breath fanning across my throat and making me shiver as her blue eyes met mine again.
I didn’t answer in words. I settled for taking the glass back and setting it on a table near the window before taking her face in my hands, soaking in the field of her silky skin. I did not go into this evening expecting this. I couldn’t have imagined wanting her this way. Not only her body but the undeniable rightness of being together. Had it always felt like this? Was I mature enough to understand it?
“Spencer…” Her eyes drifted shut, and a soft sigh eased its way from between her crimson lips. I had to taste them. I would die if I didn’t.
She held her breath, and so did I in that last electric moment until I closed the gap between past and present by claiming her mouth again. I only thought I remembered the thrill of those plump lips against mine, the triumph of making her melt against me. I savored her, explored her, in no hurry to bring this to an end. We had all night, and I planned on using every last minute.
Her hands slid up over my chest, leaving fire in their wake. They moved over my shoulders, up to the back of my head. My nerves sang and sizzled when her fingers ran through my hair and over my neck, her touch passionate and tender. By the time her lips parted and her tongue stroked mine, I was rigid, my cock demanding satisfaction.
I backed her against the window, pinning her with my body, her tits heaving against my chest as I took her wrists in my hands and lifted her arms, holding them over her head. She moaned softly into my mouth and arched her back, grazing my bottom lip with her teeth and rolling her hips to tease my obvious, raging erection. Considering the way she shuddered, it seemed more like she was teasing both of us, reminding herself of what was waiting.
I broke the kiss, and she gasped, head falling back against the glass while my mouth moved down the slim column of her neck. Her pulse fluttered under my tongue, and she moaned helplessly, the throaty sound bringing back a flood of memories that left me growling and panting.
I had to let go of her wrists when there was so much more to touch. My hands slid down her arms, then her sides, finally landing on her hips, allowing me to pull her closer to where I ached for her. Her knowing groan was the sweetest torment.
I needed to be inside this woman.
How had I gone so long without her?
Her back arched again, tits heaving, begging for attention which I gladly gave with my mouth while inching the end of her dress higher, bunching it around her waist. When she parted her thighs in a silent invitation, I almost exploded then and there.
“Touch me,” she begged in a desperate whisper while her heel ran up my thigh as she lifted her leg higher. She tilted her hips, determined to feel me against her. I wasted no time taking hold of her bare thigh, running my hand over her silkiness and stroking the curve of her ass, making us both gasp for air.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I rasped against her tits, playing with her ass, making her squirm and writhe. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps that got louder when I found the center of her wet heat, probing her plump slit, my fingers gliding through her slick folds.
“Oh God,” she whispered, moving against me, demanding her pleasure. I barely breathed, hardly thought. I was helpless, consumed with feeling her, wanting while working her into a frenzy. “Yes… yes!”
Of all times for her fucking phone to ring on the other side of the room. I ignored it, driving two digits deep inside her, searching for her G-spot, determined to make her come before sinking my cock inside her.
“Wait… no, wait, please.” Her hands slapped my shoulders as she lifted me away from her half-covered chest with a groan. “I’m sorry, but that’s my sister’s ring. I need to take this.”
Fucking hell. My fingers slid from her, and she lowered her leg, adjusting her dress as she darted across the room. All I could do was lean against the window, breathless and frustrated, suspecting an opportunity had passed me by. Not if I had anything to say about it. I would not be refused, not with her juices coating my fingers and my cock ready to burst from behind my zipper.
“Hello? Everything okay?” Almost immediately, she gasped. “Are you sure? What happened? Tell me everything.”
One thing was for sure. She wasn’t faking for the sake of getting out of the situation. There was genuine strain in her voice when I turned around to find her standing stock-still in the middle of the room, eyes bulging. She was looking my way, but she didn’t see me. Not with that horrified look on her face. “He used my name? Did you see where he was from? I see. I’m on my way,” she barked out. “No, don’t do that. Just stay where you are, and I’ll come to you. If it happens again, call the police right away. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She was shaking as she ended the call, her hand falling to her side. “What happened?” I asked, watching her.
The question seemed to snap her out of her shock. “I have to go home. Now. ” She grabbed her purse that she’d discarded on the sofa, and dropped her phone inside, touching her palm to her forehead. “Oh my God. Maybe I should’ve had her call the cops now.”
This wasn’t the time to worry about my untended erection, not when she looked as close to falling apart as I had ever seen her. “What happened? Tell me.”
In a shaky voice, she explained, “Somebody tried to break into my apartment. My sister is there. She fell asleep in the living room with the TV on. Maybe whoever it was thought the place was empty or everybody was asleep in their rooms. I don’t know.”
“Fuck. She should definitely have called the cops. But everything’s fine, right?”
“I think it’s something else.” She was already on her way to the door, and I followed, stopping short when she did to keep from crashing into her. “Shit. What am I thinking? I need a ride.”
Finally. Something I could do to help. “I can get you home.”
It was like she didn’t hear me, rambling, breathing fast. “She said some random guy tried to deliver food to the apartment earlier, and she brushed it off at the time. But now, she just remembered the guy used my name. He said it was a delivery for Rowan McNulty. I never ordered anything, obviously.”
I was starting to understand what she meant when she thought this was about something else. “But he used your name? Did he say where he was from?”
“Did you hear me ask her that?” she snapped, shaking her head. “Sorry. No, she didn’t know anything about it. But now she’s wondering if maybe he was staking out the place before coming back. What if I have a stalker?” She was on the move again, leaving me trailing in her wake, following her to the elevator, where she jammed her finger against the button a few times.
My blood turned to ice. “Did she say anything else?”
“Only that he forced the door open, but the chain lock stopped him. He tried to break it, but she yelled, and he ran.” She covered her face with her hands, and now sobs wracked her body. “What if he got in? What if he hurt her or took her? What if that’s what he wanted?”
“Your sister?” Vaguely, I remembered Rowan talking about her years ago. She was a couple of years younger if my memory was correct.
“No. Not her. Oh my God. Do I need to find a new place? I need to get the locks fixed. Maybe we should stay at a hotel tonight,” she mused as we stepped into the elevator car.
“I’m trying to understand. Does your sister live with you? If you need a place to stay, you could always spend the night with me. There’s plenty of room. Whatever you need to feel safer.”
“No.” The firmness of her response surprised me, as did the way she quickly ran her hands under her eyes. She was determined to pull herself back together, so soon after falling apart. “That won’t be necessary. But thank you.”
What the fuck was this? All of a sudden, she was talking to me like I was a colleague instead of the man whose fingers were inside her minutes ago. “Why would you spend money on a hotel room when you’re going to have to pay to have the locks fixed too? I’m only trying to help.” She didn’t need to act like I was the boogeyman. Like I was good enough to shove my fingers up her pretty cunt but not good enough to spend the night with if it meant feeling safe.
“Just… thank you for the offer, and let’s leave it there. In fact,” she continued as we stepped off the elevator in the lobby. “I can make it from here. Really, I’m so sorry to end the night like this. You don’t need to worry yourself over any of it.”
I had to be imagining things. No way was she walking to the exit rather than the garage, refusing my generosity and acting like there was anything normal about the past few minutes. “Wait. Dammit, why are you acting like this?”
“Please, Spencer. Trust me.” She burst through the doors and onto the sidewalk, her head swinging wildly in a panic. “I’m going to get an Uber.”
Instinct screamed in my head like a clanging bell, warning me there was something very wrong with all of this. “Like hell you are. I know you’re hiding something. Why don’t you want me to take you to your apartment?” Because that was the key. She didn’t want me there. And whatever she was hiding, she didn’t want to bring it to my place.
There was something close to hatred in her eyes when she shouted, “We’re wasting time!”
“Fuck that. Tell me, then, instead of wasting time.”
Her chin quivered, eyes searching my face. What was she so afraid of? “My daughter,” she announced, resigned. “I have a daughter.”
Not what I was expecting to hear. It changed things slightly, knowing she had a child, but who was I kidding? This was never going to go beyond tonight. It couldn’t. I had a life to get back to, and so did she. Tonight was about sealing the deal, getting closure, and all that.
“So you have a daughter. And now you should definitely have your sister call the cops,” I concluded, reaching for the phone in my pocket. “I’ll fucking do it myself. What’s the address?”
Before I could dial 911, though, something stopped me. Now that my erection had gone down, there was more blood flow to my brain, which was probably why it took so long for me to get what Rowan was determined not to tell me. Why would she not mention having a kid in the hours we’d spent talking over dinner? To be fair, it was none of my business.
My mind worked overtime. Unless there was a reason to keep her a secret? And where was the daughter’s father? “How old is she?” I whispered while the traffic noise faded to silence, thanks to the blood now rushing in my ears.
Her flushed face went pale. “What difference does it make?” She wanted to fight. Her mouth worked, her features pinching together in something between anger and pain.
Her phone rang again, and she fumbled her way through getting it out of her purse. “Hello?” she breathed out, closing her eyes and pressing her fist to her mouth before speaking again. “Hey, baby. I’m on my way, okay? Everything’s going to be fine.”
The voice on the other side of that call was clear, loud, and raised in fear. This was not a baby, not a toddler. I didn’t know much about kids, but I wasn’t completely clueless.
By the time she ended the call and her shoulders sagged, I knew the truth. The rushing turned into a roar as the truth settled into my bones and vibrated through me, stealing my breath and clenching my stomach. I was a father. All this time. “If it didn’t make a difference, you would tell me. Dammit, Rowan. How old is she? She’s mine, isn’t she?” I asked though I didn’t need to. I only needed her to say it. I needed her to admit what she’d been hiding.
Something caught her attention further down the street. She darted toward the curb, waving an arm overhead to flag down an approaching cab, making me follow her. “Tell me!” I shouted, ignoring curious people passing on foot in favor of standing between her and the cab, which slowed to pick her up.
Tears shone in her eyes, on her cheeks, yet her voice shook with anger. “We don't need you. Understand? I’m handling this without you. The way I always have.”
The truth in her words was a slap to the face, taking some of the wind out of me as she marched past and opened the cab’s rear passenger door. I had two choices. Either hold her back with witnesses all around us or let her go. There really wasn’t one to be made. There was nothing to do but stand there, watching as she jumped in and slammed the door.
But not fast enough. Not before she barked out the address of her apartment building to the driver. I made a note of it in my phone, then marched back into the lobby, this time walking straight through to the garage where my Bentley waited.
If she thought she could keep what was mine away from me, she never knew me at all.
She would after tonight.