Promises Promises

Chapter 6

It was late afternoon, golden hour. The sun was streaming through the windows in pretty gleams of champagne light, but Spence had me up against the kitchen counter, and all I could see was stars.

After a particularly shitty day at work, where the computers were down and the office was in chaos, a quickie before dinner was just what I needed. Even if the feeling of him behind me was as sensational as it was complicated.

Spencer knew my body like the back of his hand. It was a testament of how long we'd known each other and all the ways we'd been intimate over time, but in those moments of heat and ecstasy—it also served as a painful reminder of how we might never be anything more.

As his hands worked me over, his touch alternated between gentility and unbridled need. Locked around my waist one minute, fingertips dancing along my skin the next. I couldn't decide which I liked better. It all felt too good, so familiar and heady.

Would it ever be like this with anyone else? Would anyone else know how to touch me or work my body into a frenzy the way he could? Would I ever feel this again without it being a hookup?

Since I was the one calling the shots on what we were, that last question nagged my brain and nipped at my heart. Things would have been so much easier if I trusted him. But I just–

"Get out of your head," Spence whispered in my ear before dropping down and kissing my neck. "I want you here with me when I'm inside you."

"I'm here," I exhaled through a shiver up my spine.

Pressing my palm to the counter, I steadied myself as I found my rhythm again, pushing back against Spencer's body and meeting him thrust for thrust. His warmth grounded my thoughts, and I was quickly lost in only the sensation of him.

He fit so perfectly inside me. Every move he made hit a spot that brought me closer and closer to the edge.

His left hand coasted down my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps before he intertwined his fingers with mine. The ink on his forearms shifted like moving art, the corded muscles flexing underneath as he held me tighter, leaned in closer. His breath on my neck made my heart race.

As we continued to move, his other hand drew a slow path down my body, stopping on my lower stomach where he pressed gently, the slight pressure making my core sing out in pleasure. Then his voice was in my ear again.

He whispered a gravelly, "Come," and it was over for me.

So fucking over.

When we were done, Spence slid out of me with a satisfied grunt, but his chest stayed pressed against my back, his tall and muscular body looming over me like a shield. Our heavy breaths came out in sync as we came down from the high.

I studied the swirly pattern on the Formica countertop, wishing it hadn't ended so soon, and Spence rested his forehead between my shoulder blades.

"This won't always be enough for me," he mumbled. It was more to himself, I think, with how soft his voice went, but I heard every word, every syllable making my body go rigid.

A few heartbeats later, I stood up straight, forcing him to do the same as his body unlatched from mine.

Pulling my jeans back up, I threw a glance over my shoulder and found Spence tossing the condom, his pants up but still undone.

"A quick fuck against the counter isn't enough?" I asked with a small laugh. "Give me a minute to collect myself. I'll hop on the dining room table and let you finger me."

I was back against the counter in the flash of a second, Spencer's arms caging me in as his hand shot down between my legs. "Don't tempt me," he said. "And you know exactly what I was referring to."