Five
CHARITY
Ripping off the dress from hell, I throw it on the floor, followed by a few choice curse words it deserves for almost busting me.
With more care, I sit on my bed in the Fallon Hotel, running my fingers over the softest sheets I’ve ever felt.
Thanking Paul for the incredible night’s sleep I know I’ll have, I scoot back and carefully remove my boots before reaching in and pulling out fistfuls of my hard work.
With my hands full of cash, I laugh, flopping onto my back and strategically placing the bills over my naked body.
It was a better night than I thought. Especially after being distracted by the Spencer show.
Seriously, if that redheaded woman couldn’t hold her liquor, she had no business being in a bar. She deserved to lose that necklace and any other shit he chose to take from her.
After snagging a couple of watches from lonely, unsuspecting men and lifting my last target’s wallet, I politely excused myself, somehow managing to avoid stepping on the face of the Rolex that had worked its way down the length of my Louboutins.
I had no intention of leaving—not when I could lurk in the shadows and wage war on my competition.
I’d limped toward a darkened alcove near the front door when I saw Paul.
At first, he looked alone, his hands shoved nervously in his pockets, shifting his weight back and forth as his sweaty palm raked through his thinning hair.
I almost felt sorry for the poor bastard until I saw the man behind him step forward, and then all the alcohol in my stomach curdled.
It seems Paul isn’t a man to take his losses and live to fight another day. He wanted revenge, and he wanted it tonight. Unless I wanted to end up sleeping on a mattress in a cell downtown, I knew I had to get the hell out of that club without being seen.
I gave a three-second consideration to asking Spencer for help before rejecting the idea. I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to have me busted just to win the bet. I figured I was better off on my own.
So, I bounced.
“Asshole,” I mutter, stretching out on the luxurious bed.
A rattle near the door commands my attention. Two clicks later it swings wide open and bounces against the wall behind it. Lifting my head, I meet two slanted espresso-brown eyes that widen as they take me in with interest, shock, and intrigue.
The look on Spencer’s face makes every close call I had and every sequin I lost completely worth it the effort. He stands half inside the hotel room and half out, with his mouth hanging open like he’s been punched in the stomach.
I guess in a way he has.
His fingers tighten around the doorknob, his throat bobbing. “What are you doing in here, Charity?”
“Waiting for you, lover.”
His lips quirk in amusement, accenting a small scar over the left corner. “Does this mean you’re admitting defeat?”
“What do you think?”
“I think they were out for your blood down there. How’d you get away?”
Picking up a handful of twenty-dollar bills from my bare chest, I fan them in front of my face and smile. “I blew a cop.”
Crossing his arms, he lifts an eyebrow and shifts his hip against the door frame.
“Fine,” I admit, rolling my eyes. “I made a few friends in the kitchen on my way out.”
He continues to stare at me in disbelief, offering nothing but a slow blink.
I groan and extend my arms behind me, lifting myself up on my palms. “I can be convincing when I want to be, Spence. I told them some guy wouldn’t leave me alone, and I needed a way out the back.
” When he still doesn’t respond, I slap my hand against the comforter, causing a cloud of bills to fly in the air.
“I had to hide my score, all right? I had so much shit shoved into my boots, I looked deformed.”
Spencer shifts his gaze toward my discarded Louboutins on the floor and then back to my naked body.
“Would you like to check where?” I taunt, throwing the wad of cash across the room while running my left toe down the length of my right leg.
His hooded stare bounces between my body and the cash, as if he’s not sure which one should rank higher.
I narrow my eyes, a surge of fire incinerating my good mood. “Really, Spence? Is it that hard of a decision? Because there were at least five men tonight who would’ve paid me for the opportunity.” I offer a wicked smile as I nod toward the cash. “In a way, they kind of did.”
He slams the door loud enough to the jar the room and crosses the floor in two long predatory strides. Placing his palms flat on the mattress, he hovers over me, his breath hot on my chest as he scans the length of my body. Every inch of my skin burns as his tongue darts out, licking his lips.
Closing my eyes, I wait for the moment his mouth touches me. I anticipate it more than I care to admit, and when it never comes, I pop an eye open and glare at him. “Really?”
If looks could kill, Spencer would incinerate into a cloud of dust.
I act like I have it all together, and most of the time I do. However, Spencer is the only man on earth who can make me feel vulnerable.
And I hate vulnerability.
“Is one of those five men paying for this room or are they unknowingly pooling their pathetic resources?” he fires back.
“That information is on a need-to-know basis.” I blow him a kiss. “Sorry, you don’t measure up.”
Instead of reacting, he drops even lower, decimating all space between us. “We still have the matter of a bet to settle. You still remember, don’t you, Charity? You’re not looking to renege, are you?”
“Oh, ye of little faith.” I give him a low tsk in his ear and push away from him. “You should know me better than that, Spencer.”
He tilts his head. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your payout, St. James?”
With twenty-dollar bills falling all around me, I reach for a discarded boot and dump the rest of the contents onto the bed.
One by one, I pick up the items and wave them in his face.
“Beyond the three hundred in cash, which would’ve been four had you not conned me out of a hundred at Suede, I’ve got two Rolexes, a MasterCard, a Visa, and a gold ring I’m fairly certain I lifted off a member of the Miami mafia.
” I nod to his pockets with a smirk. “Your turn.”
He pulls away, his eyes glowing and a devilish grin spreading across his face. I heave a sigh, knowing more lay behind that grin than amusement. Instead of asking him to elaborate, I cross my arms over my chest and wait for him to drop the hammer.
“Well, beyond Mindy’s earrings and the redhead’s emerald necklace,” he says, scattering the jewels on the mattress before dragging something out of his pocket. “Don’t forget about the little matter of the AmEx Black.”
“You trumped that one before the bet was issued,” I argue, “therefore, it’s inadmissible.”
That’s when the asshole pulls something out of his other pocket and holds up a card in each hand. “Not when you have two.”
My jaw drops. “Where did you get two?”
“Not important.”
“The hell it’s not.”
“It’s really not,” he reiterates. “The point is, we both know I won, and now you’re going to pay up.”
“Spence—”
I never get the rest of my rebuttal out. His mouth swallows my words along with my sanity. He invades and demands, soft kisses giving way to deep plunges as his tongue devours me.
After driving me half-crazy, he pulls back, his lips a breath away as he wraps his hand around my throat. “Five men, Charity? Not one of them had better have laid a hand on you.”
“Why? Are you staking your claim?”
His answer is to sweep the contents of the bed onto the floor and knock me backward in a punishing kiss. My thoughts are simultaneously all over the place and nonexistent. Spencer is a man possessed, the wild glint in his eyes either fueled by victory or lust.
I don’t care either way.
Hooking a hand under each of my arms, he hoists me up and pins me against the headboard. “Am I staking my claim? The answer is yes, Charity, right now.” He eases his hold, letting me slide down his body toward the mattress.
The friction sparks a fire that has me crying out.
The crazed look of passion in his eyes pierces straight through me. He drags that darkened gaze from my face down the length of my body again, his lips parting. Flames spark from my head to my toes as he devours my neck before dropping his lips to my breasts.
For some reason, I feel the need to speak.
“I’m not a prize, Spencer.”
He pulls back, and even in the dimly lit room, I see the gold glimmer of his eyes dancing in the moonlight. “This isn't about a bet, Charity,” he says roughly. “It’s more than a conquest. This is me wanting you for so fucking long it hurts.”
He returns his mouth to my neck, and I surrender, throwing my head back to invite him in. My mind spins a million miles an hour as his lips travel lower, teasing my already sensitive nipples.
Fuck, I want him.
“I want you, too,” I admit. I’m too far gone to care about maintaining my mask. All I can concentrate on is Spencer and his mouth.
Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, I pull it over his head and throw it on the floor. I dance my palms across his chest, then lower them, lingering on the hard muscles in his stomach.
The man is abnormally perfect.
“Charity,” he groans, the clench in his jaw telling me he’s at his limit. He isn’t tolerating much more exploring.
Honestly, neither am I.
Sliding my hands down the indentations of his waist, I pop the button on his pants and make quick work of every barrier between us. Unable to resist, I feather my fingernails down his ass with one hand while stroking his hard cock with the other. His hips jerk just the way I knew they would.
Spencer may be one of a kind, but in bed, all men are the same.
I look up at him through heavy lashes, and I know that’s all the control he’ll allow.
“Enough.” Pulling my hand away, he pins it above my head. There’s nothing gentle about the look in Spencer’s eyes. It drips with hunger, and I shiver under his glare.
“You’re so bossy.”
“Baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.”