Strike (16 page)

“Hey, you,” she says, clutching her purse in one hand and her keys in the other. She moves to close the door.

“Wait. Don’t move,” I say, taking a step back.

She freezes, the door handle gripped tight in her hand. “Why?”

“I’m debating whether we can leave the building. Just give me a sec.” I should scoop her up in my arms and kiss the fuck out of her, carry her to her kitchen, her room, the couch. I don’t care where. My greedy hands want to hold her squeeze her, touch her, have her body —

The door slams shut, waking me from my sexy daydream. April widens her stance in her strappy black heels. She places her hands on her hips, her mouth twitching to the side. “It’s just a dress, Spencer. Calm yourself. You said you were taking me to dinner. I’ve spent more time than I should getting ready. It’d be rude to change plans at such short notice.”

She bats her eyelashes, and smooths the dress over her hips. The dress is like a second skin ending just above her knees, not a line in place. Sweet Jesus. Is she wearing a bra … panties, even?

“Please tell me you’re wearing underwear …” I mutter.

She links her arm through my bent elbow and pulls me down a few stairs. “Come on, let’s go,” she whispers, and bites on her bottom lip as if she’s trying not to laugh. Well, I’m not laughing. But she’s probably right. We need to go.

I had to do some serious begging to get us a booking. No month-wait for us. I want her to experience the food I had last night. I know she’ll appreciate it, and I’m dying to hear all those yummy noises she makes when she eats.

“You didn’t answer my question. It’s pretty important,” I say.

She laughs softly, but still doesn’t talk. “Truth?” she asks, as we get in my car.

I start the ignition and put on my seatbelt. “Yeah. Give it to me.”

“No,” she says after making me wait at least thirty seconds.

I laugh, knowing there’s nothing else left to say. April’s going commando. And I’m gonna be sitting across from her at dinner obsessing over it.

“Happy?” she asks.

Happy?
No. I’m in some state of delirium.

“That’s not the word I’d use to describe how I’m feeling.” I bite my tongue instead of telling her I’m feeling horny as fuck.

****

April turns heads the moment we walk in, and they follow her all the way to her seat. The waiter who looked after us last night is a lot more chipper now I have April by my side. He hands us our menus, and promises to return moments later.

“Maybe you should let me order. I know what’s good,” I say, making a dig at her.

April smirks. “Very funny.” She scans the list, raising her eyebrows every now and then. “It all looks amazing, so whatever you think.”

The waiter returns and I order the tasting menu for each of us, as well as a glass of champagne.

“So, how was last night?” she asks.

I huff and take in a deep breath. It was shit.

“That good, huh?”

“I hate the whole ‘pretending to love it’ shit. Dad must know my heart’s not in it, but he continues to push me, guilt me into doing stuff. The whole idea about last night was assuring a major client that I’ll be there when the old man semi-retires. It’s the last thing I want for my future.”

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

“He doesn’t like to talk. Rather,
he
likes to talk, I just rarely get the opportunity to speak back.”

She reaches across the table and I take her hand, running my thumb over her knuckles.

“He’ll listen to you one day, Spencer. You just have to pick your moment. You’ll know when it’s the right time.”

I just hope she’s right.

“So the night can’t have been all bad. Good food, wine—I’m assuming the company was alright?”

It was fine up until Julianna showed up.

“What happened?” she asks, squeezing my hand.

“What do you mean?” I ask. Am I that obvious?

“That look on your face isn’t telling me the night was a blast.” Should I tell her? Surely she wouldn’t get upset. I didn’t do anything wrong. “Tell me,” she says, her eyes begging me to open up.

“I ran into someone I’ve been avoiding.”

“A girl?”

“Yeah.”

She presses her lips together, and breathes in deeply through her nose. “And?” Her eyebrows raise expectantly. I don’t know if this is a good idea telling her.

“She cornered me and groped me. When I said I wasn’t interested … that I was with someone, she told me I wasn’t ever gonna change. Leopards don’t change their spots, or some shit.”

April sighs, and gives me a soft smile. “Do
you
think you’ve changed?”

“Yeah.” I know I have.
Because of you.

“Then why are you worried about someone, who I’m assuming you barely know, saying crap like that?”

“It just pissed me off. I don’t want you to think …” I sigh loudly. “I know I’m not good enough for you, but I’m trying real hard to be. I just don’t know how to show you.”

“You
are
showing me, Spencer. Every day.” Her heartfelt smile confirms that I’m doing okay. But I still don’t have a clue if I can be the man she needs and deserves.

“I don’t know the first thing about dating. I’m fuckin’ romantically challenged.”

She smiles and rolls her eyes. “Shut the hell up, Spencer. You know when you came by my apartment yesterday?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Yeah.”

“That was probably the romantic highlight of my life.”

Seriously? Her ex must have been completely fucked up. He had years to show her what she meant to him.

“But it was just a kiss.”

“You know and I know it wasn’t just a kiss. You went out of your way to show me that even though you couldn’t be with me last night, I was on your mind. What you may have thought was a small gesture meant more to me than you think.”

“So I didn’t disappoint you?”

“Life gets in the way. We do what we have to do. You had to do something with your work; I respect that. You didn’t want to let your father down. I was fine. Soph and I ate pizza and drank far too much wine. I’m a big girl. It’s not like I was crying into a tub of ice cream because you couldn’t be there.”

“You missed me though, right?”

“Of course, but you were there in spirit.”

“Meaning? Please don’t tell me you came in your sleep,” I say quietly, so as not to be overheard.

“Calm yourself, Spencer. I slept in your shirt.”

“And, did you?”

“No. I thought I’d wait until I was with you before I had another …” She looks around at nearby tables. “… moment.”

Oh, man. Will it happen tonight?

“Stop grinning. It’s not what you think … but it’s … more,” she says.

Our first dish arrives, and the waiter explains it in detail. I don’t want detail from him, I want it from April. After he leaves, I lean in across the table. “You know it’d be amazing, you and me. Aren’t you tired of saying no?”

She grins, but it fades as quickly as it appeared. “Yeah, saying no is getting a lot harder.”

“I won’t lie to you, April. I’m stuck in this horny fog. I can’t see straight, can’t think straight. I wanna be with you. Not just to get in your pants—I want all of you. I want to be your lover, your friend and whatever else you want me to be. I can talk to you, more than I have with anyone.”

“I asked you to be real. You’re doing just that. I want all that too,” she says softly.

I’m moving too fast. I know it. I just don’t know any other speed.

“But we’re not there yet,” I mutter. “And that’s okay.”

“We’re close.” She smiles and rubs her leg against mine. “Come on. Let’s hurry up and eat. I wanna go home.”

Horny little minx.
And I can’t wait to get you there.

“We’ve got five courses to go. It may take a while,” I add.

“That’s okay. In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy this beautiful food, and get to know more about you. Tell me more about riding.”

“You know I could talk about that all night.”

She shakes her head, a soft laugh escaping her sweet mouth. “That’s the idea, you muppet.”

CHAPTER TEN

* APRIL *

Walking up the stairs to my apartment, Spencer holds a suit bag and a couple of shirts in one hand, and my hand tight in the other. We go to my room and he hangs his clothes in my wardrobe. It feels familiar, like it’s a routine we’ve been doing forever, when in reality it’s only been a few days. I like it a lot.

I sit on the edge of the bed and lean down to unbuckle my heels.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Spencer snaps, kneeling in front of me.

No I don’t? “What?”

“I’ve been waiting all night to take these heels off you. Let me.”

I lean back on my elbows and straighten out my leg. With a soft press of his lips, he kisses my ankle and runs his adept fingers along the buckle. His touch sends a cavalry of goosebumps up my body, and I bring my thighs closer together. I’m wet. With no underwear on. I should have re-thought that decision, but when I was getting ready I was so turned on knowing how it would affect him when he eventually worked it out.

Spencer gives my other foot the same treatment, but this time he runs his tongue over my ankle bone, causing a moan in the back of my throat. I don’t want him to stop.

Spencer stands up and takes off his shirt jacket, hanging it up. I sit up, and watch him with interest as he unbuckles his belt and slips off his pants. The bottom of his shirt partially hangs over his snug boxer briefs, but it does little to hide his excitement.

“So what’s this
more
you were talking about?” he asks, folding his suit pants and laying them over my chair.

I clear my throat. I’ve been practising how I’m going to say this all day, but now my mind has gone blank. I don’t want this to come out the wrong way.

“Show me you can put me first. Tonight, make it all about my pleasure, not yours.”

He takes off his tie and unbuttons his shirt, and I prepare to see more of Spencer than I’ve had the pleasure of. He throws his shirt to the floor and kneels again at my feet.

Holy hotness. I knew it. He’s utter perfection. My mouth wants a taste of that perfect chest, to run my tongue along the firm lines around the deep
V
cut of his hip. There’s my weakness right there. Gets me, every time.

He grins with a warmth I’m becoming infatuated with, flashing me his white teeth, which are as perfect as the rest of him.

“So I don’t get a result?” he asks.

“Nope.”

He nods. “I’ll just have to do it myself then.”

“No. No jerking off.”

“Damn, you’re making this hard. Making
me
hard.”

“Take it or leave it. I can do this on my own, you know. You’ve witnessed it first-hand. Years of practice.”

I lean in closer. “Can I touch?” I ask, checking out his hardened nipples, the curve of his pecs, and down to his perfect, lickable six-pack.

“No way. If you start touching me I’m gonna give us what I know we both want.”

I huff in frustration. “You’re no fun.”

“Hey, playing by your rules here. You don’t like ‘em? Change ‘em.” He slips his warm hand between my knees, teasing in little circles higher up my thigh. It sends my nipples tingling and a rush of warmth between my legs. “Do I get you completely naked this time?” he asks, huskiness wrapped around every word.

I simply nod.

He looks to the ceiling and closes his eyes, as if engaged in silent prayer. When he opens them, his gaze is dark and devious. It sends a delicious shiver right to my core.

“You ready to scream?” he asks, licking at his full bottom lip.

I swallow the lump in my throat, and try to ignore the increasing thump of my heart. “Yes,” I whisper.

“Good. Because I’m about to give you all the pleasure you can handle.”

I close my eyes and silently thank the universe for the pleasure I’m about to receive.

Spencer takes my hands and pulls me to stand in front of him. I tilt my head back slightly to look up at him. He sweeps his hands either side of my neck, entangling his fingers in my hair. He brushes his lips over my jaw, and softly brings them to my lips. I part my lips, my mouth welcoming his tongue as he tastes me, teases me, with a control that usually escapes Spencer when it comes to making out.

I slide my hands around his waist, my fingers brushing the cut of his hips on the way. He flinches against me and grabs my wrists.

“No touching,” he says, his lips smirking against my mouth.

This whole
not touching
thing may be tougher than I’d thought.

He turns me around and sweeps my hair to the side, revealing the zipper of my dress. He slowly glides the zip down to my lower back, pushing the top of my dress off my arms, down to my waist. I jump as his hot mouth starts a trail of kisses from each shoulder right down to my lower back, my skin prickling with the progression.

He stands, his fingers curling around my waist, drawing me against his erection. He rests it against my back and I push my arse against him, using his excitement to further my own. His fingers dance up my ribcage and when he grabs my boobs in his hands, rolling my nipples between his fingers, I have to hold his arm to steady myself. He licks and bites at the nape of my neck, making all kinds of hot, sexy noises.

“Tell me what you want me to do, April,” his gravelly voice rasps in my ear. He runs his tongue over my earlobe and my knees buckle. He holds me firm.

“Nah-ah. This is your rodeo,” I pant.

“If this were truly my rodeo, you’d be riding me.”

I turn to face him, and the determination in his eyes tells me he’s trying so hard not to give in. I know we both want it.

Slipping my dress over my hips, I step out of it and it falls at my feet. He takes a step back, taking in every inch of me, as if he’s committing it to memory. He trails his fingers down my chest, over the
no fear
tattoo on the underside of my boob, resting on the lotus flower ink on the inside of my hipbone. Spencer is locked in some kind of trance.

“Give me an orgasm to remember,” I say, my words firm. I know he can do it.