Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Vivien
I never want to stop kissing Spencer.
He tastes like cinnamon and heat and want, and his mouth is the perfect mixture of soft and firm and eager.
His hands cup my face like they belong there, warm and possessive.
I tighten my legs around his waist, needing him closer. His length presses against me, against the thin layer of my leggings. I gasp. I need more, my hips moving, seeking relief.
His grip slides down from my face to my waist, then back up, cupping my breasts over the delicate material of my bra, thumbs tracing back and forth over my hardening nipples.
I groan. Or he groans. Maybe we both do. I can’t even tell anymore, I’m delirious with lust.
Then I’m moving. He’s lifting me off of him, and before I can protest, he’s laying me back on the sofa and kneeling between my knees.
Holy shit, this is happening.
Before I can grasp at a coherent thought, my shoes are gone, leggings tugged off, and his head is between my thighs. He watches me, eyes focused and steady as he rubs against my thin cotton panties with his fingers.
Then his mouth replaces his fingers.
My back arches.
At some point, my underwear disappears, along with everything else in the world except where he’s touching me, hands sliding up my legs, my fingers gripping his hair.
Pleasure spirals through me, cresting and then crashing like thunder through my limbs, my whole body shaking through the aftershocks.
Spencer makes his way up my body slowly, while I catch my breath.
He kisses up my stomach, under my breast, sweeping over my collarbone until he’s resting alongside me.
“Are you okay?” He picks up my limp hand, linking it with his.
“Uh-huh.” I turn my head toward him.
He’s lying slightly above me, his neck at my eyeline. I lean forward and lick his jaw, immediately gratified by a hiss of air. I press my nose into him, breathing in a hint of cologne and soap. “You smell so good. Why are you still in clothes?”
He groans, clenching my waist. “Trust me. I want to be in you.”
I shift, turning to face him. “Do it now.”
He swallows. “I don’t keep condoms in our waiting room.”
“Why not? I thought you were number one in customer service.”
His chuckle is low. “Does this mean you’re going to leave a bad review?”
“Absolutely. No prophylactics in the waiting area. Zero stars.”
Then he’s on the move. He climbs over me before I can even think about sitting.
Then he picks me up, like I’m nothing.
I wrap my legs around his waist, his hands gripping my thighs.
It’s the perfect angle to kiss, so I take full advantage, nibbling on his bottom lip.
Somehow, we make it down the hall, through his doorway, and into his bedroom.
Soft bedding meets my back, and Spencer’s hard body covers the top.
“You’re still wearing all of your clothes,” I complain between breathless kisses.
“The audacity.” He jerks his shirt off, and then moves away, and the clank of his belt hitting the floor is like music.
A lamp on the side table clicks on. He opens the drawer, the plastic condom wrapper crinkling.
A second later, he’s back over me, deliciously unclothed and bathed in golden light, highlighting every sinew and muscle.
He helps me push my sports bra up and off, and then we’re kissing again, this time with nothing between us.
Only bare skin, naked flesh, his hardness against my soft warmth.
It’s divine. Like heaven.
I grip at his lower back, pressing against him, rocking my hips to drive him deeper, but he’s in no hurry, sinking into me one inexorable inch at a time. His frame trembles as he sinks in, arms bracing on either side of my head.
And then he’s fully inside me.
We both still, our gazes locked, sharing air.
Yes.
My hands glide up his body, dancing around the muscles playing in his back.
He pulls back slightly and thrusts back in. Again. And again.
I lift my hips, seeking more.
He shifts, altering the position of his hips, plunging into me at different angles, his eyes never leaving mine.
Until I’m gasping. “Yes. There.”
Then we move, our bodies rocking in unison, a slow and tender dance. He lifts one hand to brush against my skin, cupping my breast, drawing circles around the sensitive peaks.
I lift my legs and lock them around him. Minutes later, pleasure ripples through me, a wave that crashes into me and sucks him under, both of us groaning.
When I come back into my body, I’m on my side, my head on his chest, heartbeat drumming in my ear.
I should move. Say something. Do something. But I’m exhausted.
The last two weeks have been a nightmare of preparation, worry, hunting down Graham, anxiety about the inheritance, all mixed in with working at the theater and dealing with Audrey.
I keep my eyes shut, focusing on the sound of Spencer’s heart in my ear and his warm skin pressed against my side.
I must fall asleep, because when I open my eyes again, it’s dark. Spencer somehow turned off the lamp and got back in bed without waking me.
Did something rouse me now?
Spencer shifts, and his hard length brushes my hip.
Hmm. Maybe being disturbed in the middle of the night isn’t so bad. I reach for him, running my hand up and down his thick shaft.
He inhales sharply, stirring against me. “Vivien?” His voice is sleepy.
I brush a kiss against his shoulder. “Is this okay?”
“Fuck yes.”
Then he pulls me on top of him.
The next time my eyes blink open, it’s daylight. Above me is a smooth white ceiling.
Warm limbs are wrapped around me.
Breath tickles my neck.
This is nice. I could lie here a bit longer, enjoying myself.
“Spencer, are you here?”
Wait. Who is that? That’s a woman’s voice.
“Spencer!” Someone is banging on the door. Not the bedroom door, it’s too far away for that. Must be the door to his rooms.
“Vivien is missing!” Is that Audrey? I’ve never heard her so panicked. Except for that one time when she was like seven, and she couldn’t find her Prada backpack on the first day of school.
The bed shifts. Spencer disengages his limbs from mine, and the mattress dips as he stands.
I roll over as he grabs his pants and yanks them on, back muscles flexing the entire time.
Hmm.
Then Audrey yells again. “Spencer?!” Is she in his apartment now?
I sit up, sheets falling to my waist.
Spencer tugs a shirt over his head. When his head pops out of the hole, our eyes lock. His gaze roams downward. “Shit,” he murmurs, covering his eyes. “I can’t look at you right now.”
He turns and heads for the door, hand still over his eyes. He runs into the doorframe.
I laugh.
His hand feels along the door for the knob. “Don’t laugh at me when I’m about to keep your sister occupied so she doesn’t see you naked.”
Oh. Right.
He finally gets the door open. “Although maybe everyone should see you naked. The world would be a better place.” Then he’s gone, shutting me in the room alone.
I get out of bed, smiling the entire time.
I can’t quite make out what Spencer is telling her, but his tone is deep and soothing, hers is shrill and anxious, but getting less frantic.
Where are my clothes?
Oh, wait. They’re out in the office. Oops.
I should be more alarmed at all of this. I slept with Spencer. With my attorney. I like him a lot more than I should.
Audrey will know about it and surely report back to Mother, who will then either do something to sabotage me or him or both of us. Maybe I’m not awake yet, or maybe it was all the orgasms, but I just can’t find the strength to care.
This is kind of the thing Spencer has been worried about, crossing some moral line, but we haven’t done anything wrong. It’s not like he’s done anything in regard to Beverly’s will that could be twisted into something questionable.
Us having sex has nothing to do with that.
If anything, Beverly would love this. Then again, this would be the perfect way for Mother to make my life hell.
Anxiety squirms in my gut, but I shove the thoughts away. I’m not going to worry about that yet.
I paw through Spencer’s dresser for something to wear, managing to locate a T-shirt and sweats.
Exiting the bedroom, I find Spencer and Audrey in the kitchen.
Audrey sits at the island, a steaming mug of coffee cupped in her hands.
Spencer is at the counter, pouring another cup.
“Hey.” I adjust the waistband on my sweats, rolling the fabric to keep them from falling off.
Audrey frowns at me. “You didn’t come home last night.”
“You just took off from the school without telling anyone anything,” I shoot back.
She sighs. “I’m sorry, okay?”
Spencer approaches, handing me a cup and brushing a kiss against my forehead. “I’ll give you two a minute.” He smiles down at me. His hair is messy, his eyes still sleepy.
Maybe I can get Audrey out of here quickly and convince him to go back to bed for a little bit. Or a day.
He heads down the hall toward his office.
I put sexy thoughts out of my head and move further into the kitchen, setting my mug down on the other side of the island, facing Audrey. “What happened last night? Why did you bail?”
“It was no big deal; I just needed some air.”
Of course she’s downplaying it. “You disappeared. Without your purse.”
She rolls her eyes. “I just walked down to that little bar. It was fine. I was only there for like ten minutes before Carter showed up. So,” she says. “You and Spencer.”
She’s changing the subject. I could fight with her, but I don’t have it in me.
Besides, her bailing when presented with the slightest inconvenience isn’t new.
She’s walked out of upscale restaurants if they take more than a few minutes, hung up mid-call when I’ve tried to talk to her about anything complex, and ditched school so much she almost didn’t graduate.
“Yes. Me and Spencer.” I like the sound of that.
I blow on my coffee. “Are you going to run off and tell Mother?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.” Her voice is firmer this time. “I know you don’t believe me, but I haven’t been telling her anything.”
“Oh, yeah? Since when?”
“Since a while. She doesn’t even know I have my license now.
But she’s been calling a lot over the past week.
I haven’t told her anything. She knows you’re here, obviously, but she doesn’t know what you’re doing.
She knows it has to do with Beverly. And money.
Which means she’s going to try to get involved. ”
“I have figured as much myself. It’s her favorite hobby.”
She leans forward. “I want to help you. I don’t want to be a part of her schemes. Not anymore.”
Something in my chest loosens. But can I believe her? “Why?”
She shrugs. “Because I like it here.”
“You do?” I’m skeptical. “You know there isn’t a spa?”
She rolls her eyes. “I know. It’s not like LA.”
“I know. That’s kind of the charm.”
“And I think I get that now. The people here are real. Sometimes really annoying,” she adds.
A surprised laugh barks out of me.
“But still real. In LA, everything is about how you look, what you drive, how much you spend. It’s so . . . superficial.” She rubs her finger against a spot on the island. “People here are different. I’m different here. I want to be different.”
I take a sip of coffee. I don’t know what to say. “I want to believe you.”
She leans back with a huff. “It’s not my fault, how she is. I was just a kid, and you left me with her.”
I shut my eyes. “I know. I had to go.”
“Why didn’t you take me with you?”
My eyes open in surprise. “How could I?”
“You were eighteen.”
“You realize Mother would have charged me with kidnapping? I wasn’t your guardian. And when you were twelve, you wouldn’t have wanted to come with me.”
She grips her coffee cup. “It’s only because I didn’t know any better. But I do know better now. I don’t want to go back to LA. I want to stay here, with you.”
Shock pins me in place. “With me?”
She looks up, her eyes pleading. “Please, Vivi? know I’ve been a brat in the past, and I know Daphne calls me a princess. People think I’m judging them, but they judge me too. I want to be better. I want us to be closer. I know I am dumb.”
“You’re not dumb,” I object.
“I know I don’t know how to do simple things,” she amends. “You might have to tell me if I say something awful or whatever because I can’t always tell. But I want to try. Will you help me? Will you trust me?”
I sigh. My heart hurts.
She’s staring at me, pleading, face full of hope. I don’t know if she means it, but I can’t say no. She’s still my baby sister.
“Okay.”