Chapter 34
Nathan
F uck, fuck, fuck. I slam my elbow into the up arrow. Not fast enough.
I growl in frustration as I make my way to the staircase with Spencer in my arms. Of course as soon as I turn around, the elevator finally arrives.
“For fuck’s sake,” I shout. I ignore the onlookers as I carry Spencer into the elevator. The moment the doors are closed I punch the “emergency stop” button. The alarm rings, jostling Spencer. She’s not fully unconscious, just so woozy I don’t trust she can stand.
The dress was too tight, suffocating her. How didn’t I see it before? Of course that’s what it was. She couldn’t move. She barely spoke. Spencer’s been in pain all night.
I watched her from the stage, talking to Casey, trying to calm the beast of envy in my chest. I played the piano from memory, my eyes in the crowd as my fingers glossed over the keys.
Charlie was so excited to take the stage, but I wanted the song to be over.
I needed to figure out why Spencer was crying.
“It’s ripped,” she whimpers.
The back clasp of the dress broke free and there’s about a two-inch tear in the back.
Setting her down gently, I spin her around so she can brace herself. “Hold the wall, Spencer. It’s about to be a lot more ripped.” I grab both sides of the fabric and yank.
“No,” she cries out. “Nathan, please don’t. The dress.”
I ignore her, continuing to split the dress apart.
Fabric falls down to her ankles, and I see what’s actually choking the life out of her.
I don’t know what the hell kind of contraption she’s wearing, but the corset looks like it was made to crack her rib cage.
It’s sheer and thin, but the tightly sewn lining is squeezing her skin so hard it looks like she was poured into it.
“What is this?”
“Body shaper.”
“Shaping you for what? Death?”
The sheer corset is held closed by about fifty metal clasps.
No time. I wrap my canines around a weak spot in the fabric.
I puncture the material just enough to get my finger through.
Once I rip the top in two, it falls to the floor, freeing her breasts.
Spencer gasps for air like she nearly met death underwater, and barely resurfaced in time.
As she catches her breath, I scour her bare back where the material cuts into her skin.
Thick red lines are embedded in her flesh where the seams cinched her, creating a waistline several sizes too small.
She’s lucky she’s not bleeding. Her flesh looks raw and whipped.
I trace the lines with my fingertips and she flinches.
“I’m sorry.” I stare angrily at the dress and corset at our feet, as if they forced her into this misery. “I’m going to kill that designer. He said this was your size.”
Panting calmed, Spencer covers her breasts best she can with her forearms crossed, then turns to face me. “It was the size I told you.”
“You gave me the wrong size on purpose?” I study the lines across her chest and belly. They are angry and deep, matching the ones on her back.
“A smaller size.”
“Why?”
Arms still wrapped around her chest, she shrugs. “I didn’t want you to know. I thought you’d suddenly be put off.”
“Impossible. Spencer, you put a guinea pig in your front pocket and I still wanted to rip those overalls off your body a couple weeks ago. That should tell you how insanely attracted I am to you.” I trail my eyes over her lush, perfect body.
“I see nothing here but what I want. Minus the pain. Don’t ever do this again. Be honest with me.”
“You want me to be honest?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to stop looking at me,” she murmurs ashamedly. “I know I look gross.”
“No, you don’t. You’re so beautiful. Even when you think you’re at your worst, I’m a man obsessed.
Let me show you.” I walk her backward until she’s pressed against the elevator wall.
I cloak her with my body, moaning in pleasure when I feel her soft curves press against me.
“You’re so sexy.” I grab her hand and place it against my growing erection.
“Feel that? This is what you do to me constantly. It’s fucking torture, Spencer.
Don’t worry about the dress, it was always bound to come off.
” Leaning down, I nuzzle against her cheek.
I tug on her earlobe with my teeth. “Should I fuck you right now? Will that help show you how much I want you? What if I can’t wait to get to the room? Can I have you here?”
“My dress was too tight. I’m sweaty.” She turns her head, unintentionally giving me access to her neck. I nip and kiss at the delicate skin close to her collarbone.
“I don’t mind at all. In fact, I want to taste you.
Would you like that? Can I lick your pussy clean right here, right now?
” I graze my hands down her body. She refuses to untwist her forearms, so I skip her breasts for now.
She flinches and tightens her midsection when I track my hands down her stomach.
I cup her sex, grinding the heel of my palm against her.
“I’m not a man who begs, but I’ll beg on my knees for this, baby. ”
With my thumb, I find her clit through the fabric of her panties and she lets me massage little circles against her most sensitive spot, but it’s when I drop to my knees and try to replace my thumb with my lips, she pulls back.
“Can we stop?”
God, no. Please no. I blow out a deep breath and reluctantly release her hips. “Yeah, we can stop.”
I unbutton my jacket, shrug out of the sleeves, and sling it around her shoulders.
She clutches the lapels, closing the jacket around her body. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Bad timing on my part. I misread how to help.” I’ve been craving Spencer’s body since the night I met her, but I didn’t picture it like this. Angry red slashes across her skin, tearstained makeup, the look of despair on her pretty face. Fuck.
Spencer’s gaze falls down once more. She refuses to look at me. “I don’t think you can help me. Just like I don’t think I can help you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Seeing Casey is drumming up a lot and I think…I need some space. I want to work on myself for a while. And maybe you should work on yourself too.” She cocks her head, eyes still glued to the tile floor. “We’re both broken, Nathan.”
“I’m aware.” I want to hold her, but her body language is telling me no. “But it might feel better to be broken together.”
She wets her lips and rubs them together. “Or we’ll just hurt each other until we’re beyond repair.”
I hook my finger under her chin, lifting her face until she meets my eyes. “Am I hurting you?”
She nods. “I know I’m never going to be the fantasy you’ve built up in your head. I can flirt and tease, but this? Passionate moments in the elevator, ripping off my clothes, saying these things that should make me wet, but instead they scare me.”
My body stiffens. Her words hit me like a slap across the jaw. “I’m scaring you?”
“Because you want what I’m not. I have a very broken relationship with sex and my body. I ruined your night because I’m so stuck in my head. I just… I don’t think it’s going to change anytime soon. Especially not while Casey’s here.”
Reading between the lines, it kind of sounds like Spencer doesn’t hate Casey. It sounds like there’s still feelings there. Maybe I’m blind. All I could see was what I wanted, but maybe I’m not what she wants.
As a last-ditch effort, I grab her hand.
I’ve been trying to do better and choose honesty when it’s so much easier to be cold and callous.
“Spencer, I’m at a fork in the road and the one that leads to you is bumpy, rocky, and flat-out exhausting, but it’s the one I want.
You don’t need to be a porn star to captivate me.
You already have.” I run my finger across her bottom lip. “This sassy mouth of yours owns me.”
“I wasn’t sassy tonight.”
“I know. And I missed you.” Dropping my hand, I scrunch my nose at her. I’d put on a clown suit and perform as a one-man band if I could just get her to smile.
Her lips remain in a flat line. “I think…I just need to be your assistant. And your friend.”
My heart sinks with a thud to the bottom of my chest. “That’s really all you want?”
She nods with heavy eyes and a frown that doesn’t match her words.
Of all the things I hoped for tonight, I never saw rejection coming. Then again, she has a way of blinding me—hyperfocusing on what I want. I didn’t realize she was something I couldn’t have.
“Okay. Have it your way.”
“Are you mad?”
“No,” I lie. “Why don’t you and Charlie enjoy the penthouse tonight on your own?
I have my dad’s bachelor’s party next week in L.A.
I’ll head out early tomorrow, get some work done while I’m getting his party ready.
I’ll be gone for a week, and when I’m back, we’ll start fresh.
Just boss and assistant. Friends. Sound good? ”
“We live in Vegas. Isn’t this kind of the hub for strippers and bachelor parties?”
“Believe it or not, there are strippers in L.A. too.” I chuckle humorlessly as I push a button so the elevator resumes its ascent to the penthouse suite. The ride is mostly silent, a new awkward tension between us. But once the bell dings, she hesitates to step off.
“Two-nine-four-three is the door code. I’ll go back downstairs and send Charlie up with your purse and such. Just call room service to order dinner, drinks, whatever you like. They’ll bill me.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
When she still doesn’t move, I ask, “Is something wrong?”
“Can I keep this for now?” She tugs on the lapels of my jacket.
“Of course. You think I’m going to parade you around in your underwear? Leave the dress, I’ll clean it up. There should be robes in the hotel room.”
Her smile is weak. “Thanks.”
The elevator dings again and I have to kick the closing doors with my foot so they pop back open. “That’s your cue.”
She takes a step, then doubles back. “Okay. One more thing… When you’re in L.A. at the bachelor party, are you going to…um… Well, you’re going as single, right?”
No, she doesn’t get to look at me with those sad puppy-dog eyes. She turned me down. She’s the one walking away. “I didn’t think about it, but yeah, I guess.”
She swallows hard. “Should be fun.”
I shrug passively. “Goodnight, Spencer.”
Dragging her feet through the threshold, she trudges out of the elevator, leaving me alone with the tattered dress, corset, and the wreckage of tonight.
Of all the ways I thought tonight would end, the only thing I didn’t prepare for was alone.