Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)

“Nah.” She shrugs. “I get it. He’s totally hot, but please put me out of my misery and tell me he’s a complete dud in bed.”

“Completely shit,” I lie.

“Good.” She smirks. “I knew it.”

* * *

I trail my lipstick over my lips and smile at myself in the mirror. I can’t wipe the stupid smile from my face.

A date with swoony Spencer Jones, the dreamboat.

I’ve floated through today ever since I told Sarah the truth. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. She was fine and says she doesn’t hate me.

I mean, there is still that small issue of me telling my family about the two of us, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Who knows, we may not even be seeing each other by the time my family get back.

Of course we will.

I’m trying not to let myself get attached to him, but it’s hard not to. He’s funny, smart, sexy, and he makes me feel so special.

I laugh the whole time I’m with him. What’s between us feels so grown up and real. I turn and take a look at my behind in the mirror. I’m wearing a tight grey dress that has long sleeves and a plunging neckline. My hair is swept up, and I’m wearing long silver earrings to match my high stilettos. I smile as I look over myself.

I look different.

I feel different.

It’s as if Spencer has awakened something inside of me that has been dying to get out for years. Suddenly, I want to dress sexily because he makes me feel sexy. I’ve had this dress for ages, but I’ve never worn it, not once. I’ve put it on before but taken it off before I went out because I thought it was too much.

But I want to be too much for him. I want to be everything.

I hear the front door open, and I smile with excitement.

“Angel?” he calls from downstairs.

“Coming!”

I take one last look at myself and make my way to the stairs. Spencer stares up at me and gives me a slow sexy smile as I walk towards him.

His hands are tucked inside his suit pockets, and the way he is looking at me might just set me on fire.

“Hi.” I smile bashfully when I reach him.

“Hi,” he whispers, his eyes dropping to my lips.

There it is.

The air crackles between us. “You look fucking beautiful.” He takes my hand and kisses the back of it. He turns my hand over and his tongue darts out to slowly lick my wrist.

Oh, he’s just so…

“Thank you,” I murmur, distracted by the feel of his tongue on my skin.

“Maybe we should stay home and eat English instead,” he whispers darkly.

My insides melt. He means he wants me to eat him instead.

I lean forward and take his face in my hands. I kiss him, softly at first, then deeper. I kiss him with everything I have because, damn, he makes me feel everything.

Spencer inhales sharply, his hands coming around to my behind. “Don’t kiss me like that, angel, not unless you want to be flat on your back with your legs over my shoulders within the next thirty seconds.”