Tosser. Well, that’s what I had him under in my cell.
A smile I couldn’t control spread over my lips, my stomach fluttering up into my chest. My mind and body seemed to have no ties to each other as one screamed to hit the red button, while the other one hit the green.
I pressed it to my ear. “Hello, Tosser.”
“Spencer.” Low. Deep. Vibrating with rage, his voice licked my ear, shuddering down my body, making my breath hitch.
Shit!
“Did you need something?” The innocence in my words was a little too playful.
“Do. I. Need. Something.” Slow. Husky. It didn’t sound like a question, but a challenge.
Fuckfuckfuckbuggerfuck.
“I need you to…” He paused.
My chest rose up and down, my brain telling me to hang up, but my hand didn’t move from my ear.
“What?” I whispered.
“Turn your head to the left.”
My throat tightened, my heart picking up speed as I bent my neck to the side.
Darkness engulfed the far wall, figures moving against it, snogging, some shagging, but only one was distinct. Like he was the only one in technicolor, while the rest were a hazy black and white.
Blue-hazel eyes glowed from the dark, locking on me like a laser beam.
A tiny gasp escaped my throat.
“Found you.” Husky, Lennox’s timbre poured over me through the phone, swirling my head, chucking out any thoughts that might have stood a chance in my mind.
My feet padded slowly to him, the mobile dropping from my ear, my breath clipped. The countering voice in my head told me to stop, to go back and dance with the girls as my body continued toward him.
“You promised me.” His eyes bore into me, and I felt like the suddenly scratchy material of my white dress stood no chance against him.
“Actually, I never technically promised you anything.” I stepped closer.
He watched me as I approached, his figure tightening when I crossed the line into his personal space, my toes curling over the top of his black shoes, feeling every nick that had been covered by polish.
“You found me.” Every syllable was raspy and throaty. The fabric of his tailored suit rubbed at my bare legs, my fingers reaching out like antennas, craving to touch, needing to know how it felt against my skin. “Now what?”
My hand grazed over his jacket, loving the switch between that and his fitted white dress shirt, the buttons tapping into my palm as I dragged my hand down, tickling, causing me to giggle.
But it died as fast as it came, when my skin soaked in the heat coming through the fabric, the feel of his heart pounding against my hand, the way air clenched the muscles in his stomach when I glided down his torso, fascinated and obsessed with the way he felt, my thighs throbbing with need—an ache to be touched back.
“Spencer…” He said my name hoarsely, the warning driving through my body with need. I wanted more. Needed it. I pressed in closer, the rest of me jealous of my hands.
“What are you doing?” His fingers wrapped around my wrists, holding me in place, but he didn’t push me away.
“Loosen up.” I tugged his tie, slackening it, my leg dragging down his trousers, the sensation flushing me with shivers. Everyone should feel this good. “You are so uptight and rigid.”
The music and my heartbeat were thumping in my ears, but I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter, “That’s not what’s rigid right now.” But his words fluttered away like everything else in my head. No past, no present, only this exact moment.
“Spencer. Stop.” His grip on my wrists tightened, still not moving me from his frame. His jaw stern, his nose flaring.
Damn, he smelled good.
He burned my skin, the sensation heaving me with desire. The feel of his heavy erection pressing into me had dire need pulsing my core, the desperation to feel him thrust into me, to feel his body rub against mine.
A throaty groan crawled up my throat. I wanted to reach that ultimate high, feel the universe implode around me. You mean actually have an orgasm. A voice sprouted in the back of my head. I shoved the thought back, not wanting to deflate my blissful joy bubble, ignoring the scratching sense of guilt that I was doing something wrong.
“What are you on?” Lennox drew my attention up to him, his grip on my wrists clutching down, our mouths just a breath apart. “What did you take?”
His questions were dampening my mood. I didn’t care what I took or what happened earlier. I was about now. Feeling. Loving. Enjoying the moment.
“You my father?” I frowned. “Should I call you Daddy?”
“Oh, we’re not gonna go there,” he muttered, each word sounding strained between his teeth.
Dropping my arms, his hands slid under my jaw, causing me to bite down on my lip, my lids closing with the deliciousness.
“Open your eyes,” he demanded. The authoritative voice had my lids bursting open, my throat humming like a lion.
He stared down into my face. Examining. Tilting my head to the side, catching the light in my pupils.
“Fuck, you’re high.”
“Good to see your years of military training didn’t go to waste.” I giggled, finding that strangely funny. Everything was funny. My hands moved back to his torso without my say, my mood shifting to serious like the beat of butterfly wings. “And there’s nothing you can do or say about it.”
His figure loomed over me, hands still cupping my face, and his gaze switched from inspecting to something that looped my stomach around like a carnival ride.
We stayed like that until his head shook slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re going to wreck me.”
My lids narrowed, my head far too fuzzy to understand what he meant, but the words were a backdrop to the way his focus dropped to my mouth, the feel of his fingers digging into the skin under my jaw. Emotions I couldn’t even begin to unthread exploded in my chest, rising me up on my toes with one desire.
“Spencer…” My name was filled with caution. “You are not in your right mind. Don’t.” But he did nothing to actually stop me. And I couldn’t seem to do anything but barrel forward, the craving and need to taste him rolled over all my own alarms ringing in the back of my head.
My lips grazed his, already blistering my body with heat.
“Lennox?” His name volleyed from behind me, jolting me back like I had been shot. “What are you guys doing?”
Swinging around, Hazel stood a few yards from us, her head tilting, brows furrowing.
“Fuck.” I heard him hiss under his breath, fully stepping away from me like I was a disease.
“Ms. Seymour.” Lennox nodded at her, pulling up his shoulders, going fully into bodyguard mode.
Her blurry eyes darted back and forth between us for another beat before a happy smile curled her mouth. Wobbling on her bare feet, she headed to him. Sweaty, her hair tangled, she still looked like she just stepped off a runway. “Think we’re well past formal names, don’t you think?” Her declaration burned my joyful buzz into oblivion, my fingers rolling into fists.
What did she mean by that? Had they gotten together? Had sex? She said she would, and Hazel wasn’t a girl any guy would turn down.
She tried to shove him back into the wall, but he didn’t budge. She didn’t seem to notice as she leaned into him, running her hands over him. Freely. Openly.