Spencer Cohen Series, Book Two (The Spencer Cohen Series 2) (12 page)

His eyes widened before slowly closing. He knew I was talking about my family. “God, Spencer, I’m sorry.”

“Be mad, be upset, but please don’t walk away from me.”

He took my face in his hands and kissed me before bringing my face into his neck. He held me so tight. “I didn’t realise,” he said. “I really fucked up.”

“No you didn’t,” I mumbled into his neck. “We’re learning as we go, that’s all.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the side of my head. “Thank you for not going home. Thank you for making me listen.”

I pulled back then and cupped his face, tracing his jaw with my thumbs. “You just shut down on me.”

“I know. I don’t mean to. It was just the most perfect night—I had the best night, I really did—and I wanted to bring you back here and take you to bed. I thought tonight might be the night, ya know? But then I say the most senseless things when I get nervous. I have no filter, and I’m socially awkward. I always have been. It’s painful, seriously. I wish I knew how to not ruin things.”

I kissed his eyelids, his cheek, then his lips. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

He snorted. “Okay.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

He stared at me then. “Yes. Thank God you got out of that cab.”

“It always bothers me in movies with miscommunication as the trope. It’s so cliché. And out of all the things, Andrew, we’re not cliché. We’re not
When Harry Met Sally
. We’re more like the movie
Seven
. With the head in the box.”

He blinked. “
Seven
?”

“Well, okay. Not in the psychopathic-murdering-madmen kind of way but in the unexpected kind of way. Nobody expected the head in the box.”

He finally laughed. “No mutilated heads in a box, and no walking away.”

“No.”

He breathed in deeply and leaned into my hand. “I don’t want to have sex.”

A bubble of laughter escaped me. “Oh, okay.”

He straightened, alarmed. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. Oh God, I’ve done it again. I meant tonight. I just meant it wouldn’t be right
tonight
. I want it to be when it won’t feel like a pity fuck.”

Now I laughed, long and loud. “Oh Andrew—” I kissed him. “—you are one of a kind.”

His shoulders sagged, and he wouldn’t look at me. “Will you stay anyway?”

I lifted his face so he could see I was smiling. I kissed him again. “I will stay. No sex though. But I want to wake up next to you, is that okay?”

He nodded. “Very.”

“And you will never be a pity fuck.”

“I say the most stupidest things.”

“And I have a stupid brain, so we make a good pair.”

“At least your stupid brain has a filter.” He blinked. “I didn’t mean you actually had a stupid brain.”

I snorted. “How about we just call it a day?”

He nodded slowly. “That’s probably a good idea.”

Taking his hand, I led him up the stairs and into his room. We didn’t bother with showers or brushing our teeth, we simply stripped to our underwear and got into bed. He slid over to me and put his head on my chest, my arms instinctively wrapped around him. His breaths were steady but I could feel his eyelashes every time he blinked. After a long silence, I said, “Can I answer your question?”

He waited.

“I believe in fate. I believe there was good reason my family, my parents mostly, disowned me. I got to spend some great years with my Aunt Marvie, who was the kindest woman I’d ever met. I’d like to think I made the last few years of her life happy ones. Yes, she gave me money, but I’d give it all back for one more day with her. I came here to LA, I met Lola and Emilio, and they’re the best friends a guy could ask for. And I met you.” My heart was just about to burst, but I had to say this. “This is the life I was supposed to live. Here, right now, in your bed with you.”

Andrew leaned up and looked me right in the eyes. “Spencer,” he whispered. He put his hand to my face and kissed me, soft and warm, with a gentle swipe of his tongue. When he pulled his mouth from mine, he rested his forehead on my cheek and fell back against me.

I rolled onto my side a little, keeping him right where he was, his face firmly planted in the crook of my neck, and we fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

I woke up when Andrew got out of bed. “Mm mm,” I grumbled. “Come back.” I must have been spooning him, because I missed the warmth down my entire front when he was gone.

He chuckled. “Some of us have to work,” he said, as he walked toward his bathroom.

“I work,” I objected, sleepily. “Kind of.”

I heard the shower start a moment later and rolled onto my back. His bed really was the most comfortable bed in the world. My hand naturally went to my dick to give my morning wood a squeeze. One thing I knew for certain, my body liked waking up spooning Andrew.

My heart didn’t mind it either.

Despite how the night took a nosedive, I was pretty sure we’d be okay.

And then my sleep addled brain caught up…

Andrew was naked in the next room, wet and soapy…

I got out of bed, and seeing he’d left the door ajar, I knocked before cautiously walking in. “Any objections to company?”

He had a headful of shampoo, but that’s not where my eyes were drawn. His dick was full and hanging heavily. I swallowed hard, and my cock filled at the sight of him. He laughed at me. “No objections at all. But I have to leave in twenty minutes. I already missed the gym.”

I pulled my underpants off, freeing my eager and already-leaking erection. “Really?”

“Yes, I woke up in time, but there was a hot guy in my bed with his arms around me and his beard pressed against the back of my ear.”

I stepped into the shower, and he never took his eyes from mine. His self-control really was rather impressive. I scratched my beard. “You like it?”

“I love it,” he whispered.

I stood in front of him. Steam filled the space between us, and I remembered what he said. “Twenty minutes, huh?”

He could either read minds or there was something in my tone because he smiled. “Before I have to leave. Not twenty minutes shower time.”

I dropped to my knees. “I won’t be long.”

He groaned even before I’d taken him into my mouth. His fingers gripped my hair and he guided me to how he liked it. Which was deep and thoroughly, apparently. I never really had him pegged as the skull-fucking type, but he was right into it, and in just a few minutes, he came down my throat. He pulled out of my mouth and yanked my head back by my hair, only to plant his mouth on mine. Then he lifted me to my feet and went to his knees where he returned the favour. I’d like to think I lasted longer than him, but I doubt I did. He left me slumped against the tiles, happily seeing stars in the steam, and incapable of coherent thought.

Then he shut the water off and threw a towel at me with a laugh. “You alive in there?”

“Mmm, barely.” I dried myself off and put the towel over my head, drying my hair in a sawing motion, leaving it sticking up in every direction.

Andrew was at the basin, towel around his waist, brushing his teeth, and he chuckled at me. “That’s a good look,” he mumbled around his toothbrush.

I swung my towel over my shoulder, leaving myself naked beside him, and stole his hair comb from the counter. I combed my hair flat against my head, parted at the side, in a very not-like-me hairdo. When Andrew finished brushing his teeth and saw it, he burst out laughing. “Mm-mm,” he hummed disapprovingly. Then he ran his fingers through my hair and took the comb, styling it to how he liked it apparently.

When I checked the mirror, he’d done it exactly how I normally wore it. It was shaved on the sides, long on top, and he’d made a quiff. Without a word, he started to foam his face with shaving cream, and I watched, transfixed, as he shaved. Stroke by meticulous stroke, he rid his face of white foam and scruff, carefully lifting and turning his face for the best angles.

I was surprised at how much I liked to watch him do this.

I surveyed my beard in the mirror. “Mmm, maybe I should shave.”

Andrew rinsed off his face and patted it dry with the towel off my shoulder. He shook his head. “Don’t change a thing.”

“You like my beard, don’t you?”

He smiled, almost shyly. “I do. I never thought about guys with beards before I met you, but I do, yes.”

I surveyed myself in the mirror again. “I do need to trim it though.”

“Trim is fine; don’t shave it.”

I smiled at his tone. “Sounds like an order.”

When I turned around, he was staring at my naked arse. When he realised I’d caught him ogling, he shrugged unapologetically. “I could get used to this view every morning.”

I nodded toward the shower. “I could get used to bathroom blowjobs every morning.”

He laughed as he walked out into his walk-through robe. “Those too.”

“Hey, can I borrow some toothpaste?” I asked.

“Sure, but I certainly don’t want it back.” He stopped, just short of removing the towel from his waist. He frowned. “I still don’t have a spare toothbrush. I thought I did, but I don’t.”

“I thought we decided it was too soon for toothbrushes anyway,” I said, half joking, half not. I held up my finger. “This’ll do till I get home.” I squirted some toothpaste onto my index finger and crudely brushed over my teeth with it. I rinsed and spat into the sink. “Better than furry teeth.”

“True,” Andrew said. He’d already donned some undies, but I had the immense pleasure of watching him pull on blue trousers and a white business shirt. As he was buttoning the shirt, he smiled at me. “You just gonna watch?”

“Yep.”

“Not gonna get dressed?”

I was still naked. “Only if I have to.”

“I’m not opposed—” He raked his eyes up and down my body. “—at all. But the general public might not appreciate the view.”

I had no clean clothes to wear, so with a shrug, I raided his wardrobe. I found some older black trousers, of which I rolled the cuffs up so they looked like they fit me. “You’ll have to think of me going commando all day,” I told him. He groaned, and I smiled as I plucked a pink T-shirt from the bottom of his pile of neatly folded shirts.

“I’ve never worn that shirt,” he said. “My mom bought it for me last year.” He looked me up and down. “How do you make those clothes look so good? I would never have worn them together.”

I pulled one of his grey knitted vests from a hanger and handed it to him. “With these pants?” He looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Yep.”

He mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out but pulled the vest over his head anyway. I nodded approvingly and turned him around so he could see himself in his mirror. “Oh, that’s not bad.”

“Not bad? That’s fucking hot.” I put one hand around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. I ran my other hand over his arse and pulled him against me, lifting his leg around my hip, and plunged my tongue into his mouth.

When I was done kissing him, he stood there, stunned, somewhat violated and very kiss-drunk. He smiled lazily. “Wow.”

I laughed at him. “Now you can think about that all day too.”

He slowly adjusted himself. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome.” I collected my pile of clothes from his bedroom floor. “Come on, or you’ll be late for work.”

He looked at the rumpled bed, then back to me and licked his lips. “I’m considering calling in sick.”

I laughed at him. “No you’re not. I won’t be held accountable for your lack of productivity.”

He walked past me to the door. “If we stayed here, we could be very productive.”

Now it was me who had to adjust himself, which thankfully he didn’t see. I’m pretty sure if he did, we wouldn’t be leaving his house any time soon. When I got down the stairs behind him, he was sitting on the sofa pulling on his socks and shoes, and when he was done, he picked up the paper bag he’d thrown there last night.

He slid the books out I’d bought him and sighed. “Thank you again, for buying me these. Well,” he amended, “the cooking one not so much, but this one… this one I love.” He stared at the
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
book I’d picked for him. He looked up at me then. “And thank you for not going home last night, for not giving up on me.”

“You’re welcome.”

He stood up and walked over to stand right in front of me. He looked me in the eye and said, “I promise I’ll talk to you. I won’t shut you out.”

It was different to hear your insecurities in the light of day. I didn’t know why, but talking of such things in darkened rooms seemed so much easier. I was a little embarrassed when he brought it up now. I guessed that was the irony of my request for open communication. “Thanks.”

“I really wish I didn’t have to go to work today,” he whispered.

“Me too,” I answered honestly. “But I told Emilio I’d help him out this morning, and Lola’s taking me to some college in a last ditch effort to find this Yanni guy this arvo.”

He squinted at me. “What’s an arvo?”

“Afternoon. This arvo is Australian for this afternoon.”

“Oh.”

“But it’s more one word, like thisarvo.”

He laughed and grabbed his keys and wallet. He opened the front door. “Tell me, do Australians really say
crikey
?”

I walked past him. “No. As a general rule. Not ever.”

We walked to his car. “What about
g’day mate
instead of hello?”

“All the time. But usually just
g’day
or
mate
. We might say
g’day, how’re ya goin’?
or
hey mate
. Generally not
g’day mate
together. Sometimes but not always, unless you’re taking the piss.”

“So you need to have a lobotomy to be Australian?”

I stared at him over the roof of his car. “I am truly offended.”

He laughed. “No you’re not.”

He climbed into the driver’s seat, and I got into the passenger’s side. “I am offended, I’ll have you know. Just as I’m offended that you didn’t serve me green tea this morning.”

He drove the car out onto the street but eyed me cautiously. “I could buy some.”

I sniffed. “And breakfast? Where was that?”

“Um, well it was late, and I already missed the gym.”

“I mean, the protein shake I had in your shower was good and all, but not enough to keep me going.”

He barked out a laugh, and his cheeks tinted pink. “Oh my God, Spencer.”

“Does that embarrass you?”

He glared at me as he drove and tried to not smile but failed. “A little, yes.”

“And now you’re thinking about what we did in the shower, aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t,” he said. He shifted in his seat. “But now I am.”

“And now you’re thinking about me being commando, aren’t you?”

He shot me a glare but looked back to the road and swallowed hard. “No.”

“You totally are.”

He squirmed in his seat. “I hate you.”

I grinned at him. “No you don’t.” I took his free hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re really not.”

“No, I’m not really.” We were both smiling, and I kept hold of his hand on my thigh. “But I promise to talk about something else for the remainder of the drive.”

“I should have made you catch the bus.” He squeezed my hand. “But perhaps a change of topic in conversation would be a good idea.”

I sighed. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Well, I was going to go see my boyfriend, but he’s being a bit of a jerk. I’m sure he wants me to go to work with a semi.”

I cracked up laughing. “Still thinking about me being commando?”

He groaned. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

He laughed. “No, I don’t. But I was thinking I’ll probably go to the gym tonight. Can we do something tomorrow night?”

“For sure. Oh, I’m buying dinner for everyone tomorrow night as a thanks for helping me out when this hot guy I really liked was gonna do a runner.” I shook my head. “God, was that only a week ago?”

He squeezed my hand. “I know. Pretty hard to believe, huh? And for the record, I was never gonna do a runner.”

I kissed his knuckles again before putting his hand back on my thigh. “But then this weekend you’re all mine, so don’t go making any plans.”

His smile was smug. “I’m all yours, am I?”

I could see Emilio’s shop up ahead so I knew I didn’t have much time. “Yes you are. We said we’d make it to this weekend before we take turns fucking each other’s brains out, remember?”

Andrew’s eyes widened and he blushed. “Right.”

“I thought you could fuck me all day Saturday, then on Sunday it’s my turn to have you.”

His breath was all pitchy, and he struggled to change lanes. Without saying a word, he stopped in front of Emilio’s, and I pushed his hand on my thickening dick and whispered, “Just thinking about it…” I groaned. “I’m gonna have to go upstairs and take care of this.”

He made a whining noise in the back of his throat and squirmed. He pulled back his hand. “I hate you.”