Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TATE
“How was your weekend?” I ask Daija once she gets unpacked and into her pajamas.
“Uh. Uh. Nope. How was yours?” she volleys back, and I just sigh.
“Ugh. It was amazing. And that’s the problem. I need to end it.”
Daija gasps out loud. “What? Why?”
“I can’t get hurt again,” I say sadly, knowing it’s the right thing to do before our feelings get any deeper. “That’s why.”
“When I said be careful, and I don’t want to see you get hurt, I didn’t mean to sabotage your own happiness by walking away from someone who cares about you. Jesus, Tate.”
I huff, folding my arms across my chest and glancing away.
My phone suddenly rings with an incoming FaceTime, and I glance over, seeing that it’s Shane. I grab it, turning to Daija quickly. “Don’t tell them about Spencer and me. Please.”
“Of course, babe. Let’s not talk about whatever’s going on with Jake and me either. It’s probably nothing anyway.”
“You got it,” I agree, having no right to call her out when my own love life is so fucking messy.
I swipe the green button, and then Shane’s grumpy face fills my screen.
“Hey, Shane!” I greet enthusiastically.
“Shaney!” Daija shouts, leaning into the camera.
“Hey, guys.”
“Where’s Toby?” Daija asks.
“He’s at work.”
“Aww. Did you miss us and wanna chat? How sweet,” I tease with a shit-eating grin.
Shane shakes his head, staring through the phone with unamused eyes. “I was actually calling to invite you both to come and stay with us for a weekend. I’m surprising Toby by planning it. All you need is the plane ticket and a little spending money.”
This is perfect timing. I need a good excuse to get away from Crescent Bay and forget about my growing feelings toward Spencer.
“I’ll feed you,” Shane throws in as if we need another excuse to visit New York City and surprise our baby boy.
“I’m absolutely in,” I say enthusiastically, turning to Daija. “Sweets?”
“Duh. I’m totally in!”
“Ahh!” we squeal in unison, and Shane holds the phone away from his face, making us snort with laughter.
“What weekend is good for you guys?” Shane asks with a small smile.
I know he loves us.
“Hmm.” I tap my chin, thinking. “Next weekend?” I propose, glancing at Daija to confirm it’s okay with her, since that’s less than two weeks away. We don’t have any work events until the end of the month, and the summer is getting away from us faster than we realize.
“Works for me. Text me the dates, and then you can book a flight. I’ll help you find a good one,” Shane offers.
“Thanks, Shane. I’m so freaking excited to see New York and surprise Tobes, you have no idea.” I’m bouncing on the edge of my seat, already planning the outfits I’m going to pack and what I need to buy.
“Same. This is going to be epic,” Daija adds, likely doing the same thing.
Shane gives us another rare smile. “I’ll talk to you two later.”
“Bye!” we say in unison.
We’re going to absolutely slay New York.
I turn to Daija with a devious smirk. “Wanna go shopping?”
A week and a half comes and goes, with most of my time being devoted to work and shopping for my trip to New York. Doesn’t matter that we’re only going to be there for a few days, I need options.
I’ve hooked up with Spencer a few times, but I’ve also ignored a lot of his calls and texts. In fact, I have an unread message from this afternoon that I should probably open.
I need to see you before you leave. Can I come over tonight?
I take a deep breath, letting out a loud sigh.
I’m sure he can tell that I’ve been purposefully distancing myself. It’ll hurt less this way. For both of us. We’ve been getting way too close. Too attached. We’re teetering on the edge of feelings becoming involved, and that won’t end well for anyone.
I have to be at the airport early tomorrow morning, but yeah, you can come over.
I don’t have to stay long.
Daija’s out doing one last round at the mall, if you want to come over now.
I need to stay strong and hold my ground. Hands, mouths, and dicks to ourselves even though we’re going to have an empty house.
Nothing’s going to happen.
I’ll be right over.
I set my phone down and head straight to my closet. If we’re going to stand a chance, then I need to change out of these tiny-ass shorts and my favorite sheer crop top.
Not even twenty minutes later, the doorbell rings, and I jump up, smoothing out my oversized gray sweatshirt and sweatpants. It’s like armor against his charm and sexiness, and I nearly pull the hood up to complete my protection.
“Hey,” I say casually, opening the door and letting him in.
“Hey.” He’s still wearing his office attire. Gray slacks, a button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and a loose tie around his neck.
Shit. He’s sexy as hell, and for some reason, I get a flash of him bending me over a desk in a small skirt and heels.
No. No. No.
Stay strong.
“Want something to drink?” I offer, trying to break up the silence with a task before I jump his bones instead.
“No. I want you to talk to me.”
“Okay . . . About what?” I ask, blinking up at him with big, innocent eyes, knowing damn-well what he means.
“Tate . . .” The way my name rolls off his tongue has blood rushing straight to my cock, and I’m thankful my sweats are oversized.
I ignore the throbbing in my pants and play dumb. “What?” I say defensively, continuing the charade.
“What’s going on with you?” His dark eyes pin me to the spot, radiating with hurt and confusion. “Come on, talk to me.”
“Nothing. Seriously. I’ve been getting ready for New York.” I look away, but I don’t miss the tension in his jaw when I mention my trip.
Spencer steps closer to me, reaching out and turning my head to face him once again. “Something's going on inside your head.”
“Well, duh. I should hope so,” I quip, but it falls flat, and he doesn’t even smile. His dark gaze travels over my features, landing on my mouth.
I chew on my lower lip, hypnotized by his eyes and forgetting my resolve.
Spencer leans down, gently pressing his lips to mine. A small gasp escapes me, and he slips his tongue into my mouth, kissing me deeply.
“Mmm,” I moan, pulling away and tilting my head back, giving him access to my neck.
He pulls my hoodie to the side, kissing and sucking along my skin.
“Don’t leave a mark. I don’t want a hickey while I’m in New York,” I pant as his stubble scrapes me deliciously.
Spencer growls, biting my neck gently and sending shivers down my spine. Big hands slip underneath my oversized sweatshirt, rubbing up and down my back in a possessive sort of massage.
I whimper at his touch, wanting him inside of me right now. Fuck my resolve. “Take me to bed,” I plead breathlessly. “I need you to fuck me.”
“Princess.” Spencer’s hands slide underneath my butt, and I jump, wrapping my legs around his waist and pressing my erection into his stomach. He stands there for a moment with his arms under my ass and mine wrapped around his neck while I kiss him.
Spencer slowly walks us to my bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot. Leaning down carefully, he drops me on the bed, and I bounce, staring up at him with pure desire.
He crawls up the end of the bed, hovering above me. “I want you so bad,” he murmurs with half-lidded eyes.
“Then take me,” I offer, surrendering myself to him.
His gaze is nearly feral when he slips his hands underneath my hoodie, brushing against my nipples as I raise my arms. Soft fabric slips over my head before it’s tossed to the ground. He grabs two pillows next and stacks them.
“Lie back,” he commands, fluffing them up for me.
I do as I’m told, getting comfortable against the pillows as I stare up at him.
He curls his fingers into the waistband of my sweats, pausing for permission. I nod, lifting my hips, and he continues, pulling them over my ass and down my legs, then tossing them into the pile with my sweatshirt.
“Bend your knees and pull your legs back.”
I bite my lip, hooking my hands behind my knees and pulling them to my chest. Cold air from my ceiling fan blows against me, and I feel so exposed and so turned on.
Something soft and wet brushes against my hole, and I jolt before settling against his probing tongue. I moan and groan, loving the sensation of his mouth on me.
“Spence,” I breathe out. “Oh, God. Yes.”
He pulls away and leans over me, digging around in my nightstand drawer.
He pulls out the prostate massager and a bottle of lube. “Have you tried this on yourself yet?”
For some reason, I blush, feeling the heat settle in my cheeks. “No.”
I don’t know what I was waiting for. Him, I guess.
Without taking his eyes off of me, he uncaps the lube with his thumb, squirting it on the silicone toy like hot fudge on top of a sundae. He presses the slightly bulbous tip of the skinny, curved device to my hole, and it easily slips in without any prep.
I groan when he twists it and presses it further, searching for my special spot. When he finds it, I cry out, dropping my legs to his shoulders and gripping onto the sheets instead.
“Ungh! Right there!”
Something clicks, and then the toy starts to vibrate, causing an inhuman sound to erupt from the depths of my soul.
I wail, squirming on the bed until he settles me by leaning forward and wrapping his lips around my cock. Warm, wet suction envelops my length while the massager buzzes against my prostate, sending vibrations throughout my whole body.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” I chant over and over.
Something powerful is building.
I whimper, tears dripping from the corners of my eyes as one of the most intense orgasms of my life rocks through me. I press the back of his head down as I come, screaming his name as I thrust into his mouth.
Spencer pops off my dick, choking and sputtering as I flop to the bed, my body still pulsing with the toy inside me. He turns it off and slips it out, rolling me over and lifting my ass up until I’m on my knees with my ass in the air.
More clothes thump to the ground, and then two fingers press into me without pause, followed by a third.
I moan into the pillow as he fucks into my already sensitive body. My dick is hard again and desperate for Spencer’s big cock to stretch me open. I hear the click of the lube cap and then something much larger presses against me.
“Oh, God. Spence. Give it to me. Stretch me open,” I pant. “Give me that big dick.”
Spencer growls, slipping in and immediately starting to pound into me fiercely.
His fingernails dig into my hips as his balls slap against mine, building that tingly feeling low in my belly.
He holds me steady with one hand and leans over my back, wrapping his hand around my throat and squeezing gently.
“Mmm,” I groan, loving the pressure on both ends and the feeling of being completely possessed by him. “That’s it. Squeeze harder, and fuck me harder, baby.”
Spencer lets loose, his hips pistoning into my ass relentlessly while he chokes me and bites my ear.
“Gonna come!” I cry out, and he reaches around to stroke me through my orgasm. My hole pulses, squeezing him tightly.
Spencer grunts, and then we’re coming together. His warmth fills me up, making my eyes roll into the back of my head as he continues to slowly pump into me.
I fully understand why people cry after sex sometimes.
This man just rocked my fucking world tonight.
And that’s proof again of why this probably needs to end.
After we both clean up, I glance at the clock on my desk and see that it’s getting late. “Daija should be home soon.”
“Right. I’m gonna go,” he says dejectedly, like we didn’t just have incredible, mind-blowing sex.
What’s his problem?
I honestly don’t have time to worry about it or reassure him. I still need to pack, for fuck’s sake.
“Don’t hook up with anyone in New York. Please, Tate,” Spencer suddenly blurts out, running those long fingers I’ve enjoyed so much through his hair, tugging roughly on his silky strands.
I glance away, unable to watch the pain in his eyes.
“We’re not exclusive,” I say stubbornly, knowing full well I’m not interested in fucking anyone while I’m there. But things between us are becoming too intense, so I think I need to take a step back before my heart inevitably takes a hit.
“Tate—”
I can’t do this anymore. I have to push him away.
“We have an arrangement, and that’s it.”
His face is devastated, and I glance to the side. This is for the best. We were getting too close, and that can’t happen. I won’t allow it.
I’ve come to realize it’s extremely hard to separate feelings from sex when we’re friends, too.
In fact, it’s damn near impossible. It’s time to pull the cord before it’s too fucking late and the parachute won’t open.
There’s no coming back from that, and I won’t let it happen. I refuse to ever be hurt again.
New York City is the perfect distraction at the perfect time, and a prime opportunity to distance myself from whatever this thing with Spencer is.
“How can you say that?” he asks in disbelief, as if he’s in physical pain.
He’s clearly distraught, and my heart almost can’t take it, even though I know this is the right thing to do. He’s catching feelings, so I guess I should have pulled the cord weeks ago.
“We’re friends, Spence. Just a couple of bros with a special sort of arrangement.”
Who am I kidding? Because I’m sure as hell not fooling either of us.
The pain in Spencer’s eyes is too much for me to bear, so I turn my back on him, feeling a sharp stab to my heart when I do so.
“Stop saying that. You fucking know this is more than just some bullshit arrangement, Tate,” Spencer growls, angry at me and defending our relationship like I wasn’t the one living it with him.
“I’m going to New York,” I retort like a complete fucking brat, crossing my arms and staring at the ground.
Spencer closes his eyes and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “I never said I didn’t want you to go, princess. I just want you to tell me you won’t hook up with anyone while you’re there. Is that really too much to ask for? The city can be a dangerous place.”
I won’t hook up with anyone while I’m there, but I’m sticking to my guns.
“We have an arrangement,” I repeat hollowly, hoping this will create some distance.
“Tate, please . . .”
“See you when I get back,” I say curtly, opening the front door.
Spencer shakes his head sadly. Defeatedly. “Be safe, princess.” He looks back at me one last time before disappearing out the front door.
I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and breathing out slowly.
No matter how much that hurt, it was necessary.
He knows I don’t do relationships, and he knows this can’t get serious.
I guess this is his wake-up call to stick to the rules, and that’s why I’m stepping back now. We’re getting too close.
When I get back, I’m probably going to have to end things with him for good. Before it gets messy and ruins our friend group, because we might already be teetering on that ledge.