Chapter 12 Pajamas - Avery
Laid across Spencer’s California King wasn’t just one cozy pair of pajamas and toiletries. Shopping bags from damn near every store around took up half of his bed.
“This is—”
“Necessary,” he cut me off.
“I was going to go with … a lot.” My eyes widened with no idea where to start or how to even accept what he had done for me.
Did he have his assistant on speed dial and available at all hours of the night? And how did she get all this shopping done so fast?
We’d spent maybe an hour in the kitchen picking at the strawberries and continuing to ask each other questions about stuff that didn’t really matter but gave me a little more insight into who Spencer was. We got so wrapped up in conversation, and before I knew it, an entire wardrobe was delivered.
“The point of tonight was to show you what it’s like to be with me.
I guess I should thank you for forgetting your bag, because this is a great start.
” Startling me, his large hand gripped around my hip, guiding me to sit on the edge of his bed.
Once seated, he kneeled in front of me, working his fingers down the soft leather of my pants, and down to where my heels buckled around my ankle.
Unclasping one heel at a time and setting them aside, he stood, sticking his hands in his pockets and said, “Pick out what you’d like to wear, something comfortable, and meet me on the balcony. I’ll grab a change of clothes and give you your space.”
With every touch and word that came out of this man’s mouth, my insides felt like a tornado, thrashing, and ready to erupt.
The door clicked shut, leaving me to go through each and every bag with no idea where to begin.
My attention immediately pulled to the small pink lingerie bag. I mean, I guess a change of underwear would be nice.
Emptying the bag, there appeared to be everything from boy shorts, to G-strings, bright colors, and sexy shades of black and red.
Something for every occasion. But what occasion was I dressing for?
He said comfortable. There was ‘sweats, oversized sweater, and a messy bun’ type of comfort, and there was ‘I still have my makeup on, cute shorts, and a crop top to show off some skin’ type of comfort.
I know he said he just wanted to talk and get to know me tonight, but he also made it known if I wanted anything else to happen it was up to me.
Did I want something to happen?
For every rational part of me that told me not to go there, that I couldn’t go there, was an irrational voice screaming at me to take a fucking risk and live a little.
His once meticulously clean room now looked like a toddler had been let loose to help with the laundry. Shopping bags were thrown in every corner. Every type of clothing from workout gear to pajamas, to jean shorts, and casual T-shirts were spread across his bed.
Assuming we were in for the night—and before I took up any more time that he’d paid loads of money for—I decided on a matching heather gray pajama set.
The long pants were more on the conservative side for our first night spent together, and the tank top would still keep me cool at night.
The pajama set showed off my curves but didn’t lead with, ‘I want to fuck you.’
Releasing my hair from the tight pony suffocating my scalp, I combed through my wavy locks with the brush that came alongside every other bathroom accessory I’d need.
With one last look in the mirror, I exited the room, walking toward the expansive sliding glass doors that opened out onto the balcony.
Spencer stood with his back to me in a snug white shirt stretching across his muscular back, and gray sweatpants hugging his hips so low that I craved what it would feel like to wrap my arms around his torso and slide my hands across his perfectly carved stomach.
His dark hair was in slight disarray, like he’d given comfortable a whole new meaning.
If this was comfortable, then comfortable was sexy as hell.
Not wanting to be caught in a daze checking him out for too long, I said timidly, “I feel bad. It’s an absolute mess in your room.”
He turned at the sound of my voice, doing a slow once over at my choice of clothing, almost like he was taking inventory and making a mental note for what I liked to wear.
“Wow. You—You’re … mesmerizing, Avery.” He cleared his throat. I had yet to hear him stumble over his words until now. He was always so confident and sure of every word that came out of his mouth.
“It’s just a pair of gray pajamas.” I looked down at my feet.
“Hell…” Spencer ran his hand over his beard.
There wasn’t an ounce of this night that felt like work.
He paid to get me off the books, unavailable to anyone else wanting to book me for the evening.
He offered me an absurd amount of money that was impossible to turn down.
He spent his hard-earned money on me so he could take me out and get to know me.
Nothing about his compliments and small gestures were anything like what I’d receive on a normal night of work.
The push and pull between us, this sexual tension, it was pulling more than pushing at the moment. His dark-brown eyes drew me in, and I could feel the weight of my need for him growing stronger. The vice grip I once had on my will to not allow this to happen was just seconds from snapping.
Jax could go fuck himself. The hold he had on me and the blackmail hanging over my head didn’t matter at the moment. The desire to spend the rest of my night completely free and at the mercy of this man that I’d been depriving myself of was hammering away in my heart, screaming at me to go for it.
I deserved more, and tonight, I could give myself a taste of what life could be like when this nightmare was over.