Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)

I giggle against his lips. “So romantic, Mr Spencer.”

He chuckles as he holds me close. “Four nights,” he murmurs into my hair.

“What?” I frown.

“This is the fourth night in a row that we’ve seen each other.”

“You say that like it’s a rarity for you.” I smirk.

“It is. I’ve never seen a woman four nights in a row before.”

I smile up at him and straighten his tie. “I guess I’d better make this a perfect date for you then, hadn’t I?”

His eyes twinkle with something I haven’t seen before. “You just have to turn up for my night to be perfect.”

We stare at each other and something runs between us. I don’t know what it is exactly. Affection? Closeness? Electricity? Love?

I lean up and kiss his big soft lips. “You make me happy, Spencer Jones,” I whisper.

He grins brightly, almost looking bashful. It makes my heart melt.

“Do you want to go eat some Italian now?”

“What about eating my English?” I smirk.

“Oh.” He chuckles. “It’s your English now, is it?” He grabs my behind and pulls me against his erection.

“Yes, you’re my English. And no to that. We’re going out.” I take him by the hand and lead him to the door. He tries to grab my behind and I swat him away. “We are going out, Spence,” I repeat.

He laughs. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Italian it is.”

* * *

Four hours later and I am being twirled around the dance floor while smiling dreamily up at my gorgeous date.

We’ve talked, laughed, and eaten. It’s really surprising how well we actually get along. Even without the crazy attraction and mind-blowing sex, we have something special going on between us.

“I told Sarah about us today,” I admit.

He smirks down at me and raises his eyebrow. “And what did you tell her, exactly?”

One of my hands is resting in his, while his other hand is resting on my hip. As usual, we’re the only ones on the dance floor. I love how he doesn’t care if anyone else is dancing. I think he likes it because he gets to hold me in his arms.

“I told her I was seeing you… casually.”

“Oh?” His eyes hold mine as he waits for me to elaborate.

“Although there was that thing you said yesterday.”

He spins me. “What thing?”

I hesitate. “When you told Wyatt and Anthony that I was your girlfriend.”

He frowns. “I did, didn’t I?”

I smile goofily up at him. “Uh-huh.”

“What possessed me to say that?”