Guns: The Spencer Book (Rook and Ronin Spinoff 4)

Lips begin to kiss my neck and chills erupt down my whole body.

“I love the shudder, baby. Did you know that every time I come at you for a f**k or a tease, you shudder for me? Do you shudder for anyone else?”

Spencer.

I can’t answer because I’m still gagged and hooded.

He leans down and buries his face in my neck, and then inhales deeply. “Veronica Vaughn, why the f**k do you smell like guns?”

The light on the bedside table flicks on and the hood is removed. Spencer is smiling down at me. I can’t help it, I smile too. Right through my gag. And then I start making noises that should clue him in to take the gag off, but instead he puts the hood back on and lowers himself on top of me. His body is hard. Every inch of Spencer is hard. He’s like a rock or a mountain. His arms are positioned alongside my body and he spreads his legs so he’s straddling me.

He bites my lip.

“I like you gagged, Bombshell. It’s refreshing to make you be quiet. Don’t get me wrong, I love your slutty mouth, especially when it seals around my cock, sucking me until I explode down your throat. But right now, I’m gonna talk business and you’re gonna listen. You got it?”

I nod. I’m all for his brand of talking. When Spencer talks business, my panties need changing. It’s been a long time since I had a proper Spencer f**k. A long, long time. That alleyway halfer and the penthouse quickie do not a f**k make.

“Did you go shooting tonight?”

I nod and he leans down to kiss my neck. Oh God, here it comes. I’m already wet.

“Did you go on a date tonight?”

I shake my head. That was not a date. I thought Spencer’s idea of a date was pretty bad, but Bobby or Tet or whatever the f**k his name is—yeah, that was not a date. A job interview is more like it.

“You look hot, Bombshell. What were you doing?” Spencer pulls the hood off and slips my gag down. “Answers, now.”

“I did have dinner with the landlord. Pasta. It was really good, he’s got a private chef up there, have you ever hired a private chef for a date?”

“Ronnie, cut the shit,” he growls at my rambling.

“He took me shooting after.”

“Why?”

“To show off.” I’m not gonna tell him shit. Tet made that very clear on the ride home. No information about the job was to leak out. Like at all. Because if it did, Spencer was a dead man. I love Spencer so right now I’m gonna lie like the professional I’ve suddenly become. “And try to impress me after I challenged him. He thought I was some stupid girl who didn’t know her pink .38 from her Walther P99.”

This makes Spencer laugh and his eyes crinkle up in the corners.

“Untie me.”

“Yeah, right. I’m not done. Did he try anything?”

“Yeah,” I lie. “He kissed me.”

Spencer frowns. “Did you like it?”

“Yes, it was”—I pause to stop the laugh, because Spencer’s jealousy is all over his face—“um, well. Sweet, I guess. Gentle.”

He smiles. “Sweet, huh. So you like it gentle, Bomb?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you want it gentle now?”

“Untie me.”

“Answer me.” He sits up on his knees and pulls his shirt over his head.

I moan. I’m not even embarrassed to admit it. “I need this. I need this bad. I need it to be long, and slow, and rough, and dirty, and fast, and hard, and every way you want to give it to me, Spencer. I need you. I need you to love me right now. Whatever the reason is that you’ve been ignoring me, been pushing me away, just stop. Please. I need you.”

He gently grabs my shoulders and pulls me forward to untie my hands. Then he finds the hem of my dress and pulls it up and over my head. He throws it off to the side of the room and then looks down at my f**k-me boots. “Those,” he says with his eyebrows raised, “will need to stay on.”

Do I know this man, or what?

He reaches around and unclasps my bra, his fingers lightly dragging across my skin as he pulls it over my shoulders and down my arms. My head falls back and my mouth opens to let out a moan.

He goes for my panties next. His fingers hook inside the elastic and he pulls. I wrap my arms around his neck so I can lift my hips and he leans in to bite my lip and slip me some tongue before backing away. He gives me the crooked I’m-gonna-make-you-scream grin, and then his mouth is all over my body. His lips suck on my breast and he palms them from underneath, forcing them to push up my chest. “Suck, baby.”

My tongue darts out and licks my nipple and he goes wild, growling against my skin, his mouth stealing the bunched-up tip away. He flicks his tongue against it, then bites.

I squirm because it’s painful, but he holds me still. “He kissed you, Bombshell?” And then he pinches my other nipple.

Oh, shit. “Ow!” I squirm away.

He pulls me back and resumes his task. “He kissed you? Did you slap him?”

“No,” I reply through the stinging sensations shooting up my breast. “Ah! I punched him in the face!” I laugh it out. “Spencer, stop. You jealous caveman. I’m not your girlfriend, remember? You should date Carson,” I squeal again. “Stop!”

My nipple is released and I take a breath.

“I am a jealous caveman, and don’t you ever forget it. You’re my Bombshell. And if that ass**le wants to come into my town and think he can f**k with my woman, I’m gonna have to set him straight.”