His First and Last (Ardent Springs #1) (23 page)

“We need,” she panted, “less clothes.”

“We’ll get there,” he said as he shifted to the left to give her other nipple equal attention.

The pressure continued to build as her body temperature soared. Being cold was definitely no longer a problem. Not with Spencer’s mouth on her breast and his hands on her ass. When he dragged a hand over her thigh to press a thumb against her clit, she really did explode.

Her scream echoed in the tiny space, followed seconds later by Champ’s deep bark. As Lorelei’s forehead hit Spencer’s shoulder, she was
laughing, even as the currents still pulsed to her toes. “Was that a warning bark, or more a good-job-way-to-go thing?” she asked, unable to resist dropping a kiss on his moist skin.

“I’m not sure,” Spencer said. Lorelei was happy to notice he sounded out of breath. “But I’ll gladly say that was a good job, way to go.”

Lorelei nibbled his earlobe. “You did all the work. Now I think it’s my turn to help you out.”

“That would be appreciated, because I’m about to die.” Without warning, Spencer stood up, taking Lorelei with him. She wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination, but he didn’t seem to be struggling. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles as he said, “Stay.” Presumably to the dog.

There was no need to ask where they were going as Spencer turned toward the only area of the apartment she had yet to enter. With only the light of one lamp on the living room end table and the glow from the muted television, Lorelei’s quick glance behind her revealed little more than a large bed and a chest of drawers in the corner. When they reached the end of the mattress, Spencer lowered her down slowly and crawled onto the comforter with her.

“Are you still cold?” he asked. “Do you want to get under the blankets?”

What a crazy question. Surely he could feel the heat pouring off of her. With a shake of her head, she said, “You’re all I want right now, Spencer. Just you.”

Instead of responding, he stayed still, leaned up on his elbow, staring at her as if trying to memorize everything about her. Then he brushed a lock of hair off her forehead and said, “And you’re all I want, Lor. The only one I’ve ever wanted.”

Chapter 19

A punch of guilt hit Lorelei in the stomach as her encounter with Carrie came roaring back.

“Do you know what it’s like to lay next to a man, all the while knowing he wished you were someone else?”

Stilling Spencer’s hand, she said, “Did I ruin your marriage?” The words were out before she knew it, and all she wanted to do was take them back. What the hell was the matter with her?

His entire body tensed as his mouth stretched into a straight line. “What did you say?”

Lorelei grabbed the side of the comforter as she pulled away and sat up. Holding the blanket across her breasts, she said, “That’s what your ex-wife says. That you wished she was me.”

Spencer shook his head as he sat up. “What are you talking about? When did you talk to my ex-wife?”

“At Brubaker’s,” Lorelei answered. “In the bathroom.”

“And she said
you
ruined my marriage? Her memory is a bit faulty considering she’s the one who slept with someone else.”

Scooting closer, she said, “Tell me you didn’t look at her and see me. Tell me I wasn’t some invisible other woman.”

Lorelei needed to hear the words. After what she’d done in California, how she’d been the torpedo that blew up another woman’s family, she needed to hear that she hadn’t done it twice.

“This is crazy,” Spencer said, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s not an answer.”

“What do you want from me, Lorelei?” he asked, leaping off the bed. “You want me to say I didn’t miss you? That I stopped loving you? I can’t, okay? But dammit, I went into that marriage knowing exactly who I was marrying, and I’d have stayed married if she hadn’t cheated on me.”

Not the reassuring words she needed. “And what if you were still married now? What if when I came back, you were still with her?”

Spencer threw his hands in the air. “That’s a crazy question. I’m not married. I haven’t been married for five years. I never cheated on my wife, with you or anyone else. And I wouldn’t have, even if you came home sooner.” Turning his back on her, he propped his hands on his hips. “I can’t believe you’d bring this up now. Why didn’t you tell me you talked to Carrie?”

How did she answer that? Why hadn’t she told him the minute she returned to the table? Because she’d been afraid he’d tell her the accusation was true. That she’d been the ghost in the bedroom.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone,” she said, wiping away the tear that rolled down her cheek. “I never mean to make a mess, but I do. It’s like a curse.”

Climbing back onto the bed, Spencer brushed the next tear away. “You didn’t hurt anyone, Lor. I swear to you, I loved my wife. Maybe not the way I loved you, but that’s how life works. You never love two people the same. That doesn’t mean one is any less than the other.”

Lorelei had truly believed she loved Maxwell. And Spencer was right, it wasn’t the same way she’d loved him, but it still felt real. And it still hurt when it all fell apart.

“I wanted you to be happy. I really did.” She laid a hand against his cheek. “I’d hate to think that I stood in the way of that happening.”

Pulling her against him, Spencer said, “You never stood in the way of my happiness.” After kissing the top of her head, he added, “Though you’re kind of doing that right now with all this crazy talk.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry. My timing was always a little off.”

Working the comforter out of her grasp, he said, “I know how you could make it up to me.”

“You still want to have sex with me, all snotty and red-eyed?” she asked, letting go of the blanket.

Spencer stilled. “Hold on,” he said, once again leaping off the bed and returning a second later with a wadded-up T-shirt.

Lorelei eyed the shirt suspiciously. “Are you suggesting I put on a shirt?”

The man had the nerve to roll his eyes. “I don’t have tissues. This is to blow your nose.”

Right. Like that would be sexy. “You can’t be serious.”

“You owe me double now,” he said, shaking out the shirt. “Here.” Spencer held the cotton to her nose as if she were a three-year-old.

“Give me that,” she said, snatching it out of his hand. Lorelei paused long enough to give him a dirty look before turning her back on him and blew her nose. She used the sleeve to wipe her eyes, then faced him again to hand it back. “There. Happy?”

“The hamper is next to the dresser.” He indicated a tall black hamper over his right shoulder. Lorelei tossed the shirt and by some miracle made it in. “Excellent shot,” Spencer said, crawling up the bed and dropping onto a pillow flat on his back.

“Um,” Lorelei said. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to make it up to me.” Lifting his head off the pillow, he added, “Twice.”

The mood was totally gone, but he did still look crazy hot. His sweats had drifted lower as he’d moved up the bed, revealing an inviting trail of light brown hair running from his belly button and disappearing behind his waistband. She could see he was no longer standing at attention, which almost felt like a challenge. Lorelei never could walk away from a challenge.

Joining him up on the pillows, she lay on her side, close enough to feel his body heat, but not so close that they touched. Lorelei leaned her head on her hand and watched him for a minute, lying with his eyes closed and a smile on his lips. He was so smug. And she didn’t mind it one bit.

But she also couldn’t make this too easy. “How exactly are you expecting me to make this up to you?” she asked. “Twice?”

One eye popped open. “Use your imagination.”

Lorelei nodded and the eye closed again. “I could bake you some cookies.”

That got both eyes open. “Not for this. This is going to require something more . . . hands-on.”

“Bread then,” she said. “I have to knead the dough with my hands, so that should count.”

Flopping onto his side, Spencer copied her position and narrowed his eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Ms. Pratchett. If you refuse to pay up, I’m going to have to collect payment myself.”

She lifted one brow. “I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Boyd.”

Spencer knocked her elbow so her head fell onto the pillow, and he was on top of her before she could blink. “That’s it,” he said, pinning her hands above her head. “Time to pay up.”

Wiggling her hips against his, she said, “Happily,” and took his mouth with hers.

Lorelei let him think he’d been in charge, for about two seconds. He was still riding the surge of feeling her press up against him when Spencer found his back to the mattress and the woman he’d been about to ravage ravaging him. After kissing him into delirium for what felt like an hour, she dragged her lips down the column of his throat, slowly, then gave his left nipple a quick, unexpected bite.

Spencer gurgled something, but forming actual words became impossible when she slid lower, licking his abs while her hands explored well below his waistband. Though the brief interruption had cooled his body, Lorelei was driving him back to dangerous heat levels in record time. When she dragged her nails over his ribs while her other hand grasped him through his sweatpants, Spencer’s body jerked hard enough to smack the headboard against the wall.

“You okay up there, big boy?” Lorelei asked, her voice sultry and low, her fingers slipping inside his pants.

“Uh-huh,” he managed, lifting his hips without needing instructions. The pants landed somewhere on the floor, but Spencer couldn’t have guessed where since Lorelei’s breath had wisped over the head of his dick as soon as he’d sprung free. Spencer preferred to sleep naked, so he’d not bothered with underwear after his shower.

“Commando, huh? Does that mean you still sleep in your birthday suit?”

This time his only response was a quick nod of affirmation. Her slender fingers had found his balls, and any blood that might have still been near his skull rushed to join the party going on in the lower hemisphere.

After touching her tongue to his throbbing tip, Lorelei whispered, “Is this the kind of imagination you were hoping for?”

A guttural moan filled the air as she took him deep without waiting
for a reply. Spencer had a faint memory of the two of them engaging in this kind of activity during their high school days, but those rushed, stolen moments in the backseat of old Beluga, or on a blanket on the riverbank, had nothing on this. This was . . . There were no words for this.

As Lorelei drove him crazy, all Spencer could do was hold on. To the sheets. To his pillow. To her hair. When he was almost there, Lorelei rose up to her knees and grasped both his hands as she took him over the edge. She rode out every spasm with him, their hands joined in a white-knuckle grip. His body was on fire, and he felt completely useless when she was done with him. If the world fell down around them in that moment, he couldn’t have lifted an arm to protect them.

She’d literally sucked him dry, of energy as well as everything else. And all he could do was smile.

“You look very pleased with yourself,” she said, dropping kisses along his torso as she fit her body against his side.

“Nope,” he said. “I’m very pleased with you.”

Her laughter felt like a prize from the gods. Spencer couldn’t believe that after twelve long years, Lorelei was back in his arms. Back in his bed. As she nuzzled close against him, all he could think was that if this was all a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

Lorelei hadn’t felt this content in a very long time. If the sun never again broke the horizon, she’d be perfectly fine lying here beside Spencer in an endless night, pretending that nothing else mattered outside of this apartment. That she’d never screwed up anyone else’s life, and that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t screw up Spencer’s ever again.

That was probably too much to hope for, but she clung to the belief nonetheless.

“You’re not drifting off on me, are you?” Spencer asked, playing with a lock of hair over her ear.

Stretching and tossing a leg over his thigh, she said, “I’m enjoying the moment.”