Strike (22 page)

For a split second I think about answering. Maybe I should. It’ll answer my question about that name. But I guess I wouldn’t want him answering my phone. Not that I’ve got anything to hide, it’s just a pretty personal thing to do.

The phone stops buzzing, making the decision for me. It beeps, and a text message comes through, the first line of the text popping on the screen.

H
ERE’S MY NEW ADDRESS:
U
NIT 5/105

It could be anyone. Girl or a guy. Client, even. It’s none of my business.

I shake off the dark thoughts that are trying to wiggle inside my head. I won’t think that about him. Spencer said he’s changed. I have to believe him. I could always ask him
who
Pet
is, but I don’t wanna spoil the mood. He’s taken the day off, annoyed his father in the process, just to be with me. Besides that, I freaking missed him, even though we were apart for hardly any time at all.

Spencer comes out of the shower, still dripping wet with a white towel secured low on his hips. His killer I-might-just-take-you-on-the-bench smile is back. And not a moment too soon.

“You trying to tell me something with that smile?” I ask, hands on hips.

He wrinkles his brow as if I’ve read his dirty thoughts. “Was I thinking out loud?”

“Nope. You didn’t have to. It was written all over your face.”

“What you wearing there?” he asks, swaggering around the bench and snaking his hand possessively around my waist.

I’d wanted to feel his jersey on my body, against my skin. In a way, it reminds me of school. When you wore a boy’s football jersey or jacket, it was because they were yours. And Spencer is mine.

“Your jersey. I’m supporting my favourite rider. He’s a sure thing to take out the championship, you know?”

“April, you look beautiful no matter what you wear, but you, in this? Hell that’s just a whole different level of sexy.”

“Nothin’ underneath, either,” I whisper, and then graze my teeth over my bottom lip.

His smirk turns devious. “You know what I’m gonna do to you?” he asks, his voice as dark as his gaze.

“What?” I ask as I lean my back on my elbows against the bench. The jersey creeps up my thighs as I push my chest out. He hooks his hand under one of my knees, gripping tight as he brings it up to rest on his hip.

****

* SPENCER *

“I’m gonna fuck you in this jersey, and then I’m gonna wear it on Sunday. It’ll be my good-luck charm.”

“Don’t you mean good-fuck charm?” she says and laughs sweetly.

“Yeah, but …” I run my free hand through my hair. An unsettling feeling rises in my gut. She’s not just a fuck. She never has been. She’s more to me than that. I should tell her.

“But what?” she asks, running her hand down my bare stomach, making my muscles flinch.

“You know you mean more to me than that, right?”

“Yeah, but it won’t hurt for you to tell me what I mean to you.”

I don’t know if I’m ready to tell her yet. I know I love April. It’s just taken me a while to realise. Even though we’ve only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, if I say those three words, is it going to be met with silence? Is it too early? I remember blurting it out before we got in the plane, about her being crazy and loving her for it, but she’d brushed it off by saying something about being an adrenaline junkie. The first time I say ‘I love you’ to her, I wanna be damn sure it’s coming right back at me. It’d fucking kill me if she doesn’t say it back. I don’t think I could take it.

“I … you might think this sounds stupid, but lately, it’s like I need you to breathe.”

April takes in a shuddery breath, and blinks rapidly as her eyes begin to glisten.

Please don’t cry again, beautiful.

She sighs, letting out all the air in her lungs in one quick burst. “Oh, Spencer … I know what you mean. That’s how I felt yesterday … when you won, and I couldn’t …”

My phone buzzes on the counter beside April. Her whole body tenses, and she turns her head towards it.

“Oh, um, your phone rang when you were in the shower … and you got a message. Sorry, I didn’t mean to look … It was right in front of me.”

“Whoever and whatever they want isn’t as important as you.” Her smile returns, and she pushes her hips into me. “You know, I changed my mind … I’m not gonna fuck you,” I say.

She frowns. “What? Why?”

I scoop her up in my arms, one hand under her knees, the other behind her head. She slips her hands behind my neck, swirling her fingers in the back of my hair. I carry her towards the bedroom.

“Because I’m taking you back to bed, and it’s gonna be slow. You’re a beautiful thing to be cherished, and I can’t believe you’re mine.”

And I love you, you crazy girl.

“Oh, Spencer, I think I’m gonna cry,” she chokes out quietly. I kiss her softly on the forehead.

A tear falls on my bare chest as we reach her bedroom.
Too late
.

Now I just have to stop myself from doing the same. This beautiful girl is making me soft.

****

* APRIL *

Spencer lays me down gently on the bed, dotting hot kisses up my legs. His towel drops to the floor.

By the time his mouth meets the apex of my thighs I can feel just how wet I am for him. With his hot tongue lapping at my clit, it takes all my self-control not to trap his head there by wrapping my legs around his neck.

“I’ll never tire of this,” he says softly, and climbs up my body. He slips his tongue on into my mouth and nips at my lower lip, letting me taste my arousal.

“Me neither,” I say, squirming my hips into position. I grip the bottom of the jersey and arch my back, but he presses his full body weight on me so I don’t have a chance to take it off. I give in.
I wanna wear it anyhow
.

Spencer slowly enters me, his hard length slipping in with ease, as he’s already got me that worked up. Gone is the wild, unrestrained sex that I’ve only ever experienced with Spencer. This time it’s a slow, sensual rhythm, with the pleasure compounding as Spencer takes me closer and closer to the edge. For the first time ever, I feel … found. Appreciated. Spencer worships me, his hands entwined in mine above my head, his hot mouth on my lips, all the while moving deep inside me. As the rolling of his hips gathers pace, my emotions build to an almost intolerable level. I don’t wanna cry, but somehow it feels right. Spencer has consumed me. All of me.

As my own pleasure builds, I cry out as Spencer lifts my hips to drive in deeper, releasing my orgasm into a burst of fire throughout my shaking body.

Spencer lets out a low guttural moan as he comes hard, twitching deep inside me as my own waves of pleasure fade. He buries his head in the crook of my neck. His heated breath on my skin, and the mad thumping of his heart against mine, forces the floodgates to open. Tears pour down my face. I take in a stuttered breath to stop myself from becoming a blubbering mess of a woman.

Spencer raises himself onto his forearms and blinks rapidly, his brow furrowed as he moves his fingers over my wet cheeks. Breathing heavily, he gives me a soft smile and leans his forehead against mine, telling me without words that he just felt the same intensity of emotion that I did.

I am certain that no one has ever made love to me before, because Spencer just did. And I made love to him.

Wrapped up tight in his warm embrace, his breathing tapers off. Spencer makes that deep air sucking noise in the back of his throat, a noise I’ve come to expect at night beside me, except it’s probably only eight in the morning.

Spencer Jones, it’s done.

I am completely in love with you.

Dear Heart,

There’s no turning back.

****

Tuesday

I still have mixed feelings as to whether I should call him or not. I’ve been thinking about it ever since Spencer won the last round. I couldn’t see the harm in talking. If he didn’t want to listen to what I had to say, then at least I’d tried. Spencer was worth it.
He
had to believe it. For Spencer, I had to try.

“Mr Jones?” I say expectantly.

“Speaking,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“My name is April. Uh, I’m a good friend of your son, Spencer. I was wondering what you were doing this weekend?”

“Why, love?” he says, sounding confused. I thought about saying I’m his girlfriend, but I have no idea if Spencer had mentioned me to his parents. I hadn’t said anything about him to mine, for obvious reasons, so I wouldn’t expect he had either. Particularly given his strained relationship with his dad.

“Spencer has the last round of motocross this weekend in Coolum. He could take out the championship, and I don’t know if it’s the kind of thing he’d say to you, but I know it would mean the world to him to have his family there.”

“What did you say your name was?”

“April.”

“Is Spencer important to you, April?”

“Yes, of course.”
That’s why I’m ringing you, you muppet.

“Well, I appreciate the call. You know, sometimes I get so caught up with everything that I tend to forget my son has another life outside this building. I can’t promise I can get his sister, Victoria, there, but his mother and I will be there. Why don’t you email me the details and I’ll get my secretary to make the necessary arrangements.”

“Really?” I gush into the phone.

“Yes, love. Really. Tell me, will I have the pleasure of meeting you there?”

“Yes, of course. I look forward to it. Can I just ask one more favour, Mr Jones?” I ask.

“Sure, but please call me Carl.”

“Please don’t tell Spencer I called.”

“Why?”

“I’d just rather you didn’t.”
Because I want more than anything for Spencer to think you came of your own accord
. Parents should do that for their kids. They should be involved in seeing their dreams come true. Surely Mr Jones is a smart man; he should realise this.

“Okay, well, thanks for the call.”

“Thanks, Carl. This means a lot. I’ll send through the details now.”

“Bye, love,” he mutters in a happier tone than the one he’d answered the call with.

My work here is done.

I put down my phone, and it rings almost straight away.
Private number
.

“Hello, April MacIntyre speaking,” I answer.

“Hey April, it’s Greg Bates. How you goin’?”

“Good thanks. It’s great to hear from you,” I say, trying to contain my excitement. Having one of the bigwigs of motocross call you is a big deal.
Huge
.

“Just thought I’d let you know the editor of
Transmoto
magazine saw some of your shots from the last couple of rounds. He was pretty impressed. I was, too. Listen, the main reason I’m ringing is that the senior photographer of the magazine is thinking about taking some time off to travel overseas, so there may be some work there for you. I’m happy to put in a good word for you, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, thanks. That’d be great. I’ll be in Coolum for the last round, so let’s chat more about it then.”

“No probs. Oh, and tell Mac I’ve got my fingers crossed for his guys. I think Spencer’s finally gonna get the crown. He’s been riding like a demon.”

See? Even one the of the main motocross organisers believes Spencer has it in him. I don’t think Spencer has any idea what kind of support he has.

“Yeah, I think you’re right. I’ll pass on the message. Thanks for the call, Greg.”

“Bye, April.”

I hang up the phone, thanking my lucky stars that there are people out there who appreciate my work. Making a living out of doing something I love is a dream come true. I’ll have to thank Dad for putting me onto Greg.

I was a little nervous coming home after being overseas for so long, but the work has picked up quicker than I’d thought. Now I get the best of both worlds: working,
and
getting to watch my man doing what he loves.

But there’s still something hanging over me. Or rather, someone. A large six-foot plus overbearing shadow. No matter how many times I run through my plan of attack, I don’t know when I’ll find the courage to go through with it.

The one thing standing in the way of Spencer and I being truly happy could also be the thing that destroys us.

Daddy has to understand.

****

* SPENCER *

Wednesday

“You got the address, right?” I ask.

“
Yes
, Spencer,” April says, and I imagine her dramatically rolling her eyes. “My bags are packed, and I’ll be there at six. So are we eating out or eating in?”

Never in my life have I cooked for someone.
Ever
. I don’t know whether this is gonna end in disaster.

“I was gonna try something … thought we’d eat in.”

“Oooh. That’s sounds great. Do you want me to bring something for dessert?”

I only have one plan for after dinner. “Yeah, you.”

“Mmm,” she groans causing my dick to harden. “I think that can be arranged.”

Don’t think about her naked. Don’t think about her on my bed.
Too late
. There’s no time for day-dreaming. I’ve got shit to cook.

“Okay beautiful, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you tonight.”

“I can’t wait. Mwah.”

Here we go. Cooking for dummies. I can do this.

I dig out a dusty cookbook that’s been sitting on top of the fridge since I moved in. So we’re talking years, here.

Eating In: Easy Meals in an Hour or Less
.

I chuckle to myself. I never thought I’d actually open this book. What on earth is this girl doing to me? Making me do shit I’d never imagined. Jumping out of aeroplanes and cooking a meal.
Unbelievable
.

Inside the front cover is an inscription in neat, black cursive writing.

Dearest Spencer,

If you need help, darling, you know you can always call.