I doubled my efforts and he took this as invitation to remove my skirt, undoing my side zipper slowly. “Oh, God, Sophie,” he exclaimed, making me want to vomit. “You taste incredible.”
I ignored him and the feeling and kissed him harder. My skirt fell to my ankles and I stepped from it as we made our way to his parents’ sofa. He stopped suddenly and held me at arm’s length.
“Jesus,” he hissed, sucking in a breath. His gaze raked my body and stifled a shudder. I stood in front of him, in full lingerie with garters and ankle-strapped heels. He approached me deliberately, his hands running through my hair, then down my shoulders and back before palming my ass. “You’re more beautiful than I could’ve imagined, Price.”
“Thank you,” I said, wishing I could just run.
Work through it, Sophie. You’re just a little off your game.
He kissed languidly up my neck to my chin and across my jaw line. “You smell like,” he inhaled, “cherry bark and almonds.”
“It’s my shampoo.”
“I love it,” he told me.
He laid me on the leather sofa nearest the fireplace and the morning sun was streaming in at seemingly impossible angles. It was beautiful. Too beautiful. I felt ill at all it was revealing to me. “So much light,” I whispered, not realizing I’d said it out loud.
“We can move to my bedroom,” he said. “It’s darker in there.”
“Please,” I said, needing to remove myself from exposure. I felt desperate.
He picked me up, tucking one arm under my knees and the other around my back. He brought me back to his room and laid me on his dark sheets. The room had shutters and dark curtains that kept out every inch of light.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much,” I answered.
“Now, where were we?”
He crawled over me and kissed me feverishly, his hands roaming my body. He lay on top of me and cupped his hand around my knee, bringing it around his waist.
That was when I broke. I don’t know why I did it, what I was thinking, why my usually stalwart barrier was so weak, but silent tears began to cascade down my face and Spencer pulled away.
“Sophie? Are you crying?”
“No,” I insisted, swiping at my face in the dark, hoping he couldn’t see me. How humiliating.
I’d never cried in front of anyone. Ever.
“Oh, Soph,” he soothed. “You are.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, pushing at his shoulders to flee.
“Wait,” he said, pulling me back to his embrace. “Stay with me for a second.” He laid back and tucked me into his side, smoothing my hair behind my ear. “We don’t have to do this, Soph.” I waited for it, but he didn’t retract his words. Instead, he continued. “You forget I’ve known you since we were small.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of a simpler time when Spencer and I used to giggle and play in the gardens at my home. “You’re thinking about our games.”
I nodded against his chest. “I’m still sorry,” I grated out again.
“You know, I’m going to confess something to you,” he said, ignoring me, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “I’ve wanted you since I was old enough to discover I could want someone.” My body tensed beside his, but he just held tighter. “Shh, stop. Listen to me.
“I can’t lie to you. You’re goddamned beautiful, Sophie, and I’m so turned on right now I can’t even think straight, but I won’t have you, not like this. I thought you wanted this.”
“I did,” I began truthfully but he shushed me.
“No need, Sophie. Just lay here with me while I try to calm the hell down.”
“Okay,” I sniffed.
It was then I realized that Spencer was a good friend, a real friend, probably the only one I really had.
We both fell asleep and I woke to Spencer snoring softly. I peered down at myself and realized I was practically naked. Shame heated up my face and body and I slid out from under his hold to retrieve my clothing from the main living area. The room was dark as the sun had set not long before and I began gathering my skirt and blouse from the blonde wood flooring.
I’d just bent to retrieve my purse when I heard the front door swing open. I froze in absolute fear as Spencer’s father stood in the space just outside the threshold. I held the loose clothing against my body.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he asked, strolling in at a snail’s pace. He removed his keys from the lock and threw them on a nearby table. He looked more closely at me and realization struck him. “Ah, the Price girl.”
“I’m sorry,” I began, but he cut me off.
“No need to be sorry,” he said, oozing creepiness. “I’m not.” He perused my body with obvious appreciation and I turned to bolt back up the stairs to Spencer’s room.
“Wait,” his father called out, grabbing my elbow. “If he’s finished, I’d like to have a turn.”
“Excuse me?”
“It looks like you’re finishing up, aren’t you?” When I couldn't answer him he continued, “My wife flew ahead of me. I had an emergency at work and had to fly back from Atlanta. I told her I’d meet up with her later. She’s not here.”
“What the hell does that have to do with me?” I asked, bewildered.
“I can give you things my boy can’t,” he slimily offered with what I’m sure he thought was a charming smile. All I could see were serpent’s teeth.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m assuming Spencer’s asleep because you’ve worn him out.” I balked at his presumption. “I, uh, know of the trouble you’ve recently gotten yourself into.” Uh-oh.