"No," she whispered, wanting the explosion, but also wanting more. "Spencer, here." Her fingers twined in his hair, and she tugged him up. "I need you inside me."

She saw the raw heat flare in his eyes, and knew she had him. And when he eased his cock out of his open jeans and moved toward her, she inched to the edge of the table, spreading her legs even wider in invitation. Needing him. Needing them.

"I don't have a condom," he said, his voice raw.

"It's okay. I'm on birth control. Please," she added. "Don't stop."

"Never," he promised, and to her relief, he took her fast. His hands cupped her ass, holding her steady as he eased into her, slowly at first and then with deep, powerful thrusts that filled her to the core. Again and again they rocked together, their bodies joined as one as she clutched him around the neck, holding tight and riding hard.

She felt his body stiffen when he was close, then had confirmation when his voice rasped in her ear, telling her to come with him. To go over. To please, dammit, come with him.

And then, as he exploded inside her, she felt her own body let go, and she shattered into a million pieces, tied to earth by Spencer's strong arms that kept her tethered.

After, she was limp as a rag, but she managed to hook her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bed. There, she snuggled close, her back against Spencer's body, her rear tucked in perfectly against his hips. He had one arm around her and was holding her close, the steady rhythm of his breathing soothing her. She felt warm and safe ... and, despite the lingering pleasure, she also felt worried.

"Spence?"

"Hmm."

"This thing with my dad--there's nothing he can do about Richie since the Governor can't take back clemency once he's granted it. But if he decides to release all that stuff about your record now that we're seeing each other again, will it hurt you?"

She could feel him stiffen and wished that she'd waited until morning. Then he propped himself up on his elbow and urged her to turn around and face him. "I am what I am, and it's not as if keeping it a secret will change that. But no, I don't think it would matter. Not for the show, if that's what you mean. Just more fodder for the social media machine."

She nodded, at first accepting the answer, pleased that her father's machinations wouldn't get him kicked off the show or banned from doing Mansion Makeover, a show he'd told her about one afternoon at The Fix. "I want to bring our place back to life," he'd said, and she'd told him that she could think of no one better to do that.

But as she lay there in the cradle of his arms, she couldn't help but wonder about his tone. I am what I am.

She played the words over in her head, then closed her eyes, finally understanding the pain and frustration she'd heard in his voice. "You are, you know," she whispered.

"What's that?"

"You are what you are. You're talented and kind and smart and sexy as hell. And I--"

"Brooke." Her name was sharp and spoken like an order.

She rolled over to face him.

"It's okay," he said. "I know where I come from, and it's a long way from your father's world."

"Spencer," she began, but then paused. She knew damn well that he'd grown up being painfully aware of his background. A scholarship kid in a ritzy school. The kid brother of a convicted killer. The child of a father who had to scrape to keep a roof over their heads.

She also knew that the difference in their social statuses had bothered him. But they'd never bothered her, dammit. And he should know that. They'd talked about it

over and over before their aborted wedding--but maybe he'd believed that was why she'd walked all those years ago.

If so, now he should know better.

Besides, he'd made something of himself, so whatever his issues with his past, that's exactly what they were. Past.

Surely that wasn't what she was hearing in his voice now. Spencer knew better than anyone that he'd pulled himself up.

Which meant that this was about what her father saw, and Judge Hamlin wasn't a man inclined to look beyond the barest of facts where his little girl was concerned. So, yeah, Spencer had every right to be irritated.

"What?" he pressed, and she realized she'd gotten lost in her thoughts.

"Nothing." She ran her hand along his beard, feeling his whiskers rub against her palm. "Just that I love you." She paused, realizing what she'd said. "Oh--Spencer, I--"

"Didn't mean it?" She heard the forced humor in his voice.

Tags: J. Kenner Man of the Month Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net