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  I was still wet between the legs as I twisted my body on top of the bed, bathing in the exhilaration of what had just happened between us. Water ran in the bathroom, and a few minutes later, Spencer spread my legs again, and a warm towel was gently wiping my slit.

  “I wore a condom,” he said.

  I was glad one of us remembered to be responsible.

  “I’ve had all my tests. I have no diseases. Jada, I want to fuck you without a condom soon. You’re not on the pill, are you?” He walked over to put the towel on the small table.

  I wondered if I was supposed to answer that question. “Um, no, I’m not.”

  Surprisingly, Spencer lay down beside me. “Lie on your back.”

  Again, I hopped to fulfill his command, and once I was on my back, he was pinching my nipples. I winced from the stinging, but I didn’t complain. He had fucked me, making pain pleasurable. I felt I owed him this.

  He squeezed tighter and tighter. Only when I closed my eyes tightly and grunted at the agony did he let go and roll on top of me to sink his soft hot mouth over the sting. Spencer sucked my nipple, brushing the tip gently with his teeth. It felt so good that I wanted him to do it forever. Then he did the same to my other nipple, making it hurt then bringing it relief with mind-blowing pleasure.

  “It feels so good,” I whispered, my body tightening and pussy tingling.

  “Don’t talk.”

  I loved how easily I wanted to obey his commands. Obedience meant he would reward me with more sex, more orgasms, and more of him. If I couldn’t speak, then I wanted to touch him everywhere. I ran my fingers through his hair, and he quickly seized my wrists and pressed my hands down on the bed. The force and that look in his eyes turned me on. The lights were still off, but the longer I stared at him, the better view I had of his sexy blues, which were so vibrant they made my pussy cream.

  “What are you doing to me?” he whispered, and his mouth came crashing down on mine.

  Our tongues dove deep, swirling around each other, our lips attempting to merge into one. The longer we kissed, the more I craved him, whimpering like a newborn puppy, and soon enough, he was making the same noises. I wondered if his heart felt the same as mine. I wondered if it wanted to burst into a million blazing pieces and whether his soul wanted to capture mine and hold me inside of him forever. The emotions were too intense.

  Perhaps that was why Spencer abruptly stopped kissing me. His body abandoned mine, and the air from the room washed over my sweat-glistened skin.

  “What is it?” I asked, watching him putting on his underwear and sweatpants.

  “I have to go,” he muttered.

  “But why?” I whined.

  “Get some sleep, Jada,” he ordered. But his tone lacked the tenderness and sexiness of his earlier commands.

  I didn’t know what to say. My body was starving for more of him. I could have made love until the sun rose, set, and rose again.

  “But I don’t want you to leave,” I said.

  I was instantly annoyed by my own gluttony. Spencer took a few steps toward the bathroom before correcting his course and walking toward the door, careful not to look at me. I knew there was nothing I could say to make him stay. The door creaked as it opened.

  “Sleep well,” he whispered soulfully and disappeared into the hallway.

  I sat with my back against the headboard, wondering what in the world had happened. Something changed. I’d seen it in his eyes. I wanted to go back and replay every second of our sex, but my brain was too burnt out.

  I yawned. My body was so fulfilled, and I could still smell Spencer all over my skin and taste him in my mouth. Maybe his leaving was good after all. If he’d stayed, I would have overdosed on him. I could see myself being one of those clingy girls who got fucked really hard and then believed they were in love with the guys who’d fucked them. That wouldn’t be me. No way. Spencer Christmas could fuck like someone who wasn’t even a human being—more like Zeus or someone—but I could never forget that he was strange and unpredictable. I pulled the covers up to my neck and settled myself comfortably in bed. My vag felt stretched and was still burning from the new experience of being fucked. I curled onto my side, feeling satisfied by the sensation. Yawning again, I closed my eyes. I wanted to call him a dick and hear myself say it, but instead, intoxication from the wine and from giving my virginity to Spencer—along with pure exhaustion—carried me off to sleep before I could muster the energy.

  Lots of crazy things were happening. I was racing Spencer Christmas to a lake after he told me he didn’t want me swimming in it. He was winning, but I was close on his heels. Then he was kissing and embracing Sarah while laughing at me, telling her that he’d never touched me. I was standing there, watching them, sad that he was lying about what we’d done but too hurt to say anything. Next, we were in the office. He towered over me as I sat at my desk.

  “I don’t want you, Jada. I fucked you, and now it’s over, got it?”

  Tears in my eyes, I nodded feverishly.

  Then he threw hundred-dollar bills on top of my desk, one after the other. “You want the money? Here’s your fucking salary!”

  I gasped as I woke up. I looked around the bright room and gasped again when I found Spencer sitting in the chair, staring at me.

  “You,” I said weakly and rubbed my eyes for better focus.

  He sat up straight. “You’ve been asleep for a day and a half.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. It was stiff. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jeez, a day and a half? I must’ve been really tired,” I whispered, eyeing him.

  My gaze then fell on the little round table. It had been cleared. Or perhaps there had never been any dirty dishes on it. Maybe I’d never drunk too much wine. Maybe Spencer never woke me up in the middle of the night and took my virginity in the most incredible fashion.

  “I’m sorry, but did we… you know?” I asked, my finger shifting between us.

  He scowled. “You don’t remember?” He sounded offended.

  There was my answer. Shit. We had actually fucked. I pressed my hands over my face and fell back on top of the bed. “I remember it.”

  I heard him get out of the seat, and suddenly, he was above me, straddling me, fully clothed in his standard cargo pants and sweatshirt. I felt he was being careful to keep his body off mine.

  “If you were questioning whether or not we fucked, then maybe I didn’t do a good enough job.”

  I gulped. I wanted to say something, but his face was too close to mine. This wasn’t the movies. I had the worst morning breath, and I sure as hell didn’t want him getting a whiff of it.

  Spencer studied me with his customary scowl before rising to his feet. “Have brunch in the dining room. The maids will come change your sheets and tidy up while you’re eating.”

  I curled my shoulders vulnerably, pulling the comforter closer to my neck. “Will you be joining me?”

  Again, he watched me, frowning, and I wondered what in the world he was thinking. “No,” he said curtly. “Not for breakfast.”

  I did the calculations in my mind. “Is today Sunday?”

  Spencer walked toward the door. “Yes.”

  Before I could ask him another question, he was gone. The guy had a poetic way of exiting a room that really sucked. I shook my head and once again questioned whether we’d actually had sex.

  I raised the duvet and saw the red on the white sheets. “Shit, cherry popped.”

  I fell back on the bed, pulled the covers over my head, and groaned.

  Chapter Twelve

  I wondered where I had put my cellphone as I pondered calling Hope and filling her in on what had happened between my new boss and me. Then I tried to imagine what I should call him—Mr. Christmas or Spencer. Perhaps it depended on the activity. Mr. Christmas for work and Spencer for play.

  Play? I doubted we would have sex again. That thought made me want to cry. I told myself that the last dream I’d had abou
t him had more to do with my fears than any premonition. Hope would always say that I’d remained single because I had the Prince Charming complex, meaning if a guy wasn’t darn near wooing me like a prince in a fairy tale, then I couldn’t trust that he was fully into me. And if I couldn’t trust him, then I could easily write him off. I’d never understood how her assessment applied to me until that moment.

  “For goodness’s sake, Jada,” I whispered.

  He’d been sitting in a chair, watching me, when I woke up. I wondered how long he’d been there. Goodness gracious—he was so hard to read, and I was good at reading people. He was just a constant enigma.

  If it weren’t for the fact that I was starving, I would have lain in bed a little longer. But it was time to get back to real life. I decided to return to my room after breakfast and pick up where I left off reading The Dark Christmases.

  On that note, I walked carefully to the shower and set the water at a comfortable temperature. I’d brought my own shampoo, but there was a pretty expensive brand already on the shelf, so I used that instead.

  While lathering my hair, I worked very hard to recall every detail of Spencer and my lovemaking. He’d said a lot that night, but I could hardly remember any of it. For instance, he’d kept repeating something while thrusting his cock in and out of me, but I couldn’t remember what it was.

  Steam rose all around me as the water hit my face. The warmth felt good. Then, out of nowhere, I felt a hard body against my back.

  “I couldn’t stay away,” Spencer whispered.

  His rigid shaft slid up the crease of my ass, and he moaned in my ear before doing it again. I had to blink twice to make sure this was happening.

  Spencer spun me around to face him. I inhaled sharply as our gazes met. He brushed one of his dry cheeks against my wet one, and then he did the other side before his lips connected with mine, teasing them with tender kisses. My head spun, and I quivered in his embrace. Thank goodness I had rinsed the sour taste out of my mouth while washing my hair.

  Our kissing turned more vigorous. Spencer’s lips and tongue sought to consume mine. His fingers dug into me as he nearly lifted me off the floor to kiss me deeper. I moaned as my pussy began to flutter. He shoved his hand between my legs and finger-banged me, releasing a deep breath.

  Without any warning, he lifted me off my feet. I felt as light as a leaf in his clutches as he walked me to the large shower bench. I couldn’t take my eyes off his face. His expression was eager as he parted my thighs, and he watched me carefully as he set me on his lap, thrusting his rock-hard cock inside me and making me inhale hard as he filled me up.

  Umm, the taste of his mouth.

  My head was spinning. His hands squeezed my hips, his yearning indicated by the tension in his grasp. Spencer shifted me against his big dick, its fullness making me feel sensations I’d never experienced.

  “Shit, I can feel it,” he kept repeating until he quaked, exploding inside his condom.

  I expected Spencer to bow out of the shower and leave me alone as if what just happened had never occurred. However, instead of getting up, he gripped the back of my neck, and we made out feverishly. As our tongues dove and slid around each other, I knew I was losing my head and doing something very stupid as far as my heart was concerned.

  I could hear my mother chastising me, saying that I should never give a man that much power over me. He’ll break you, Jada. You can’t trust him.

  But jeez, Mom, it’s only fucking, not marriage.

  Then you’re doubly wrong, she’d snap back.

  I opened my eyes and pulled my mouth off Spencer’s.

  “What is it?” he asked, dazed.

  I leaned back to study the lust in his eyes. Now he was the one who felt the torture of being abandoned. Oh, what fun it would have been to assume the dominant position for once. But I couldn’t. The truth was, he was in control.

  “Nothing.” I pressed my lips against his again.

  Spencer gently gathered my lower lip between his teeth before sliding his tongue down my chin and collarbone until he bit both nipples hard, making me wince. Then I remembered what he’d done to them the other night, which was why they were a little sore. I thought he would give them a repeat performance, but instead he sat me on the bench and parted my thighs.

  “Don’t move.” He trotted out of the shower and quickly returned with a large towel that he folded and put on the wet floor in front of me.

  He got on his knees, making firm eye contact. “Baby, I want to see your face while I eat your pussy.”

  My lips parted, and I took a brisk intake of air as he curled his arms around my slippery thighs and tugged my pussy toward his mouth. I loved his strength. He was a gladiator, a mighty man, the king of my world.

  He kept his eyes on my face as his mouth melted over my clit. His tongue brushed along the edge of the sensitive knot, making an instant impact. I cried out then moaned as I made a feeble attempt to cling to the wet bench. The wood offered no support when it came to helping me withstand the escalation of pure pleasure. Holy shit! I tossed one arm above my head, trying to hold onto to the wet glass wall, but it was no help either.

  The silky sensation of pleasure streaked through my pussy and expanded. I gasped and whimpered, calling for Spencer, who moaned as he kept up the intensity of stroking my clit. Then I screamed at the top of my lungs, pulling in air like a fish out of water as an orgasm possessed my pussy. My thighs trembled, and my body tensed up. The ecstasy consumed me for longer than usual until it eased away, making my body go weak.

  * * *

  I breathed heavily with Spencer’s face between my legs, our hazy gazes connected and his mouth still covering my pussy. I thought he would stop, but Spencer took me there again and again until he brought me down onto the hard floor to absorb my breasts deep into his mouth, biting the tips as he slid my tits in and out of the warm concavity of his mouth. Even the pinch of my nipples between his teeth felt amazing. As I quickened from the ache, he would again sink my perky tits into his moist mouth, soothing them.

  “Oh, Spencer,” I said. It all hurt—the biting my nipples, the hard floor against my back—but at the same time felt so good.

  Then he grabbed a handful of my hair so tightly that I thought he would yank my scalp right off. He twisted my neck, and the pain made me grimace. I was confused by what was happening as I groaned, not knowing whether I should endure so he could eventually get to the pleasurable part or demand that he stop.

  Suddenly, Spencer let go of my wet locks, stood up lightning fast, and lifted me to my feet. I was rubbing the back of my neck, looking into his eyes and seeing something I’d never seen before.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. I could tell his throat was tight.

  “It’s okay…” I chuckled, stretching my neck from side to side. “You just got ahead of yourself.”

  His serious expression remained unchanged. “I didn’t.”

  I frowned. “You didn’t get ahead of yourself?”

  He put a hand between us, his palm facing me as if repelling me. “I have to go.”

  I was still processing that exchange as he walked out the shower so fast I could hardly keep up with my desire to rush after him.

  “But, Spencer, it’s okay.”

  He could barely look at me as he snatched a drying towel off the rod. “Finish,” he said, pointing at the spout that was still spraying water.

  As I watched him dry himself off and put on his pants, I could see that his dick had gotten hard again. He wanted to fuck, and so did I.

  “Just come back in and join me,” I said, trying not to appear desperate.

  He rubbed the towel against his hair, mussing it up. Damn, he looked sexy as he tossed the towel on the sink. But he’d dried his hair, sending a message that he wasn’t coming back to join me. I stood immobilized, waiting for him to say something, but Spencer didn’t even look at me again. He was already walking out of the shower area and was quickly out of sight. I soon felt
his absence.

  I brought my cellphone with me to the dining room. I hated that big, empty, impersonal space. The only thing that kept me from feeling lonely was my memory of making love to Spencer. I could still feel him inside me, his sexy lips on mine, and taste his tongue in my mouth.

  I had a fresh-baked toasted baguette with fluffy scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, and homemade shredded hash browns. I ate as if I was famished as I continued reading about the dark Christmases.

  The twins, Bryn and Asher, were a hot mess. Asher was the worst of them. He was spoiled but not in the way that he was given everything—he was taught he should have everything simply because of his lineage. He was the sort who shoved square pegs into round holes, grinding the edges until they fit. Of course, the immersion was way too tight and uncomfortable, but he didn’t care. He loved convincing himself that he’d gotten what he wanted. He’d persuaded himself that he hated Amelia Christmas because she wouldn’t love him. Out of all the Christmas children, Amelia disliked him the most because he reminded her of Randolph.

  Bryn, on the other hand, shared more of a friendship-type relationship with Amelia. They weren’t best friends but more like two girls who were dorm mates during college and would only be acquainted as long as they lived together. Bryn would start fights in high school and bully other girls just to get her mother’s attention. The older brother, Jasper, would sit down with her and ask for insights into why she’d done those things. Randolph Christmas was completely absent in Bryn’s life. However, the book talked about encounters she’d had with him during the time her body was blossoming. My jaw dropped as I read about secret hallways and him spying on her nudity. He tried to fondle her, but Jasper had stopped him. It was clear who, at a very young age, was the patriarch of the Christmas family.

  “Jada?” Recognizing the voice, I looked up to see Marta standing near the entrance of the dining room.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you ready for dinner?”

  I checked the time in the corner of my screen and jerked my head back. Shit. I’d been sitting here for nearly four hours.