by Frankie Love
I pull out some of my toiletries and head to the bathroom for a shower. I was up before the sun this morning to catch my flight. My back is aching, and my neck is stiff. I know the bathroom is probably ancient, but I just hope it has a usable bathtub.
I spend almost an hour relaxing in the old claw-foot tub that I discovered and by the time I get out my skin is nicely pruned and my stomach is rumbling reminding me that the only food I’ve had today was that of the less than desirable airplane food.
I pull on a pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie before blow drying my hair and going to explore the kitchen in the hope of finding something edible.
To my surprise, I find both the refrigerator and the cupboards fully stocked. Maybe he did prepare for his bride’s arrival.
Pulling out some fresh tomatoes and basil, I set about making a simple tomato sauce before grabbing some pasta and allowing it to simmer while I explore the downstairs a little more thoroughly.
I find a pantry, a downstairs bathroom along with two more huge rooms with windows that make the most of the incredible view. One, in particular, has the most incredible light, even as the sun begins to set behind the mountains. I decide there and then, that if I’m able to stay here, then it’s going to be my office. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll convince him somehow that it needs to be mine.
I find an old chair in the corner of the other room, I bang out some of the dust and drag it through to my new favorite room, placing it right in the late day sun.
I sit there the rest of the day. After eating my dinner as the sun makes its final descent for the day, I find my laptop and set about doing the one thing I always imagined doing with this view before me. I write.
I’ve got tons of books that I’ve started over the years, but I’ve never found enough inspiration to actually continue with any of them. But sitting here now, in the house I’ve always dreamed of, that is owned by the only man who’s ever owned my heart, I find the words just fall out of my fingers.
It’s long been dark when I close my laptop and stretch my once again aching neck and shoulders out.
Hours have passed since Spencer fled from the house, leaving me with no clue as to what time he might reappear.
After tidying up my mess, I make my way up to bed. I strip out of my clothes, pull on a shirt to sleep in, and climb under the covers. It’s cold with the drafty window, but before long, I’ve warmed up the sheets and I drift off into a peaceful slumber.
I wake sometime in the night. The room is in total darkness and the house seems to be in silence.
I have no idea if Spencer has come home but as I swing my legs over the side of the mattress so I can head to the bathroom, I hope he’s safely tucked in his.
My door creaks as I pull it open, and I swear it echoes around the silent house. With a wince, I slip through it the second it’s wide enough in the hope I don’t wake him if he is here.
I tiptoe to the bathroom and do my thing, swirling my dry mouth out with some mouthwash before drying my hands and pulling the door open.
I take one step before I halt, my heart jumping into my throat.
Footsteps start up the stairs and my hand that’s still on the door handle begins to tremble, thinking that we’re about to collide.
I look to my bedroom door, but I know I don’t have enough time to bolt in there.
My heart pounds as he approaches.
He hasn’t turned a light on, so when he appears, he’s only illuminated by the light of the moon that’s streaming in through the window at the end of the hall.
“Fuck,” he barks the second he turns toward the bathroom and finds me standing there like a deer caught in headlights.
Our eyes connect, his are dark and wild and when I suck in a breath, I can’t miss the scent of alcohol on him.
“Spencer, I—”
“No.” He takes a step toward me and presses two fingers against my lips.
My chest heaves as he steps into my space.
His eyes drop from mine to my lips that are half covered by his fingers and then lower.
“Are you… fuck.”
I follow his stare and look to my shirt.
Shit. I’m wearing an old Snow Valley jersey. His Snow Valley jersey. If he were to spin me around, he’d find his old number printed on the back.
This shirt was my savior when I first arrived in New York. Back then it still smelled of him and I would sleep with it every night.
After a while, his scent faded and when my mother found it, she bundled it up with my sheets and sent it with the laundry. I was devastated. It was the only thing of his I had. It was the only thing I could hold on to.
After that, I started wearing it to bed and I’ve continued ever since, needing to feel closer to the place I’ve missed so much.
He spins me around and gently pushes me up against the wall with his hand on the back of my neck.
“Motherfucker,” he says it so low that I wonder if I’ve imagined it, that is until he speaks again. “You’re wearing my number. Why?” His fingers flex, nowhere near enough to hurt me but the perfect amount to have heat pooling in my core.
“B-because it’s yours. It… it reminds me of you.”
“But you left.” He steps closer, the front of his body lightly pressing up against my back. “You walked away and never looked back.”
“Y-you told me to.”
He drops his forehead to my shoulder and sucks in a deep breath as the words he said to me the day I went to say goodbye run through my mind.
“I was so fucking angry,” he admits. “You were leaving me.”
“You didn’t need to end it. We could have—”
“No, it never would have worked.”
“Says who?”
“You never even called.” The emotion in his slurred voice slays me.
“Y-you told me not to. That if I had to go that… that was i-it.” My own voice cracks at the end of my sentence.
“Fuck, Gabby… Ella…FUCK.”
He pulls back and I miss his heat, his touch immediately.
I look over my shoulder, about to spin back around, but the intense expression on his face and the dark warning in his eyes freezes me to the spot.
He takes a step forward once again, a determination oozing from him that wasn’t there earlier.
“How much did you miss me exactly?” He reaches out and tucks a finger under the hem of his shirt. “Enough to be bare beneath my number?”
He lifts, revealing my lace panties that are cut high across my ass.
“Hmmm… not that much then.”
“No, Spenc—”
“Did you ever wear this and get yourself off wishing it was me?”
I gasp, shocked by his words. Although I can’t deny the need they stir within me.
“Answer me,” he demands.
“Y-yes,” I admit, my cheeks flushing with heat at telling him the truth.
My breath catches again when his finger touches my skin. He runs one tip along the edge of the lace.
My breathing turns ragged as I try to drag in the air I need.
“Did you imagine me doing it to you? My fingers inside you, my tongue against your clit?”
Holy shit, where’s the sweet boy I used to know gone? He’d never talk to me with such dirty words. It’s hot. So fucking hot.
He closes the space between us once more and his fingers trail around to my front, still tracing my panties.
All the muscles below my waist clench as anticipation fills me.
“Yes,” I breathe, unable to find the strength to say it out loud.
“Fuck.”
One of his hands fists my hair, pulling my head to the side to expose my neck.
“Spencer,” I moan when his nose runs up the sensitive skin all the way to my ear.
“Sssh, my little mouse.”
“Oh god,” I moan at hearing the name he used to call me as a kid. I never thought I’d hear it again.
Tears burn my eye
s but the heat that’s surging around my body is more pressing.
He brushes his lips down my neck, his tongue sneaking out to taste my skin and my knees go weak.
Reaching out, I place a hand on the wall to steady myself.
“Are you wet for me?”
My brain damn near backfires as he tucks his fingers inside the lace of my panties.
“Answer me,” he breathes in my ear causing my entire body to erupt in goose bumps.
“Y-yes. Please, Spencer. Please,” I shamelessly beg.
“Please what? Remind you how good it can be?”
“Yes, yes,” I cry as he pushes down.
His fingers part me, finding my soaked center and he groans in my ear. He circles my clit once before dropping lower and teasing my entrance.
“I never got to claim this.”
“Jesus, Spencer.” I want to sound shocked by his words but my voice just comes out sounding needy.
“Maybe I should before I make you my wife. It’s long overdue, don’t you think?”
He tucks a finger inside me, and I sag back against him at the sensation. His other hand runs up my stomach until he takes my bare breast in his hand.
Another growl rumbles up his throat.
“Please,” I whisper as he continues playing me with his skilled fingers.
One second I’m heading toward release and the next, my feet have left the floor and we’re moving.
He lowers me to the mattress laying on the floor. I sit in the middle with my shirt around my waist and watch as he peels his own up his body.
Fuuuuuk.
The Spencer I remember has definitely transformed into a man.
My eyes feast on his exposed torso, following the lines of his muscles all the way down to the waistband of his pants.
I watch his fingers as he works his belt and he toes off his shoes before dropping his pants and kicking them to the corner of the room.
I expect him to go for his boxer briefs that aren’t really leaving all that much to the imagination, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drops to his knees and pushes me until I lie back, resting on my elbows so I can watch him.
His fingers wrap around the lace at my hips and he pulls them off, throwing them over his shoulder. His eyes zero in on my newly waxed core before flicking back up to mine briefly.
If I thought he looked wild out in the hallway, it was nothing compared to right now.
With his rough hands against my thighs, he pushes my legs wide and moves forward.
The second his tongue connects with me, I cry out, my back hits the mattress and my hands slide into his hair to keep him in place.
“Oh, shit. Spencer.”
He ups the pressure before adding one finger and then another to stretch me open.
I feel like he’s barely started, but my release races forward at a speed I can’t control. Long before I’m ready, I’m crying out his name as I explode on his face.
My chest heaves and my skin is covered in a sheen of sweat when he pulls back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Our eyes connect once more, silent words being said between us.
I expect him to do more, to touch me, to ask me to return the favor, anything. But in reality, all he does is stand and march from the room.
He slams the bathroom door with such force that the entire house shakes.
I’m still sitting in the middle of his makeshift bed when he returns. His hair is a mess, his eyes blown and his boxers still tented but he doesn’t do or say anything other than to lift the sheets beside me and climb in.
What the hell?
Deciding it’s probably time I left, I place one foot to the floor, ready to push from the low mattress when his voice fills the room.
“Get in.”
Chapter Six
Spencer
I shouldn’t have done that. I had every intention of doing this right. Of not taking anything from my bride until she was my wife. I didn’t think it would be too much of a challenge seeing as I was expecting some stranger to turn up, but yet here we are.
I lie on my back staring at the shadows moving across the ceiling as she breathes heavily beside me.
Part of me had hoped that I’d find her in my bed when I got back, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think it would actually happen. What woman in their right mind would want to be in my bed after the welcome I gave her today? That woman might be the only one I’ve ever loved, but still, I haven’t exactly been nice to her.
After I left earlier, I went straight to the bar.
I needed a drink, and I needed to get away from her sweet scent and assessing eyes that I swear see right down into my soul.
Having her inside my house, the house we’d dreamed of for years. It was too much. I couldn’t deal. So, like a pussy, I ran. I drank until the room started to spin and I was forced to leave to make the long, very cold walk home.
Thoughts of her here had me hard long before I turned up the driveway and saw the house in darkness.
All I could think of was her. How her pants hugged her ass and hips, how the swell of her breasts teased me from the low neckline of her sweater. But finding her like I did, in my fucking number. It was too much to bear, and I broke all the rules I’d set for myself. Well, maybe not all. By some miracle, I managed to draw the line once she’d come on my tongue.
Her scent fills the room around me, making me damn near desperate to turn her over and sink inside her hot little body.
My cock tents the sheets, but I don’t reach out for it. I deserve to suffer after how I’ve treated her today.
Turning onto my side, I slide over toward her until my front presses against her back. The second we connect, she snuggles back into me as if she’s awake and waiting for me.
“G– Ella, are you awake?” I whisper, but the question goes unanswered as her breathing remains steady. She’s either fast asleep or just a very good actress. I think back to her performance in our drama class back in middle school and I decide it’s probably the former.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I hold her tighter to me, allowing myself to revel in something I never thought I’d get to do ever again.
I must fall asleep with her in my arms because the next thing I know, I’m facing toward the window with the sun blinding me despite the fact my eyes are closed.
Rolling onto my back, I pry my eyes open, a dull thud behind them from the whiskey I demolished last night makes itself known. I glance to the side to find her curled up still fast asleep.
Her eyes are lightly closed, her cheeks are rosy red like when I whispered dirty things in her ear last night and her pink full lips are slightly parted, making me regret not kissing her. But I know that one kiss would ruin everything.
I need to get her down the aisle first. I need to know she’s serious, that she wants this as badly as I do. Because now she’s here once again, I’m going to fight like hell to make sure she stays.
She was right with what she said last night. I did end things with her the day she left, but only because I was so angry, hurt, no… devastated, that she was leaving. It was harsh, I knew that at the time. She didn’t have a choice. Her dad had a job in the city and she and her mom were having to follow, it’s what families do. But she left me behind and all I could do at that point was self-preservation and I stupidly thought that hurting her as she was being dragged away would help. Hindsight is a great thing because in the days, months, even years, that followed, I’d have given everything for the long-distance relationship she was so confident we could maintain.
I’m still skeptical that it could have worked, but knowing how miserable I was when she left, I’d wished I’d given it a chance to fail before ruining it before it even started.
With a sigh that’s laden with regrets, I push from the bed, grab a pair of pants that I’ve discarded on the floor and quietly leave the room in the hope of letting her sleep.
Yesterday was stressful enough for me, I can’t even begin to imagine
what it was like for her.
I shower then head downstairs for coffee and to get to work, now I’ve got a housemate it’s even more important to get this house into some kind of fit state to live in.
Dragging open the door to my workshop, I take in the almost finished four-poster-bed I’ve been working on the past few weeks.
The bedrooms weren’t top of my priority list until Mom’s surprise announcement that the six of us had brides on their way. The prospect of having someone to share a bed with spurred me into action. I didn’t want to consummate my marriage to a stranger on a mattress but even less so Gabriella. She deserves more than what I can offer her right now. She deserves more than the way I’ve treated her since she suddenly reappeared in my life.
I lose myself in the finishing touches to the bed, not noticing the cold surrounding me or the bitter air that’s whipping into the large space thanks to the doors I didn’t shut, I’m too focused on getting our marital bed complete and ready for its first night.
With my AirPods in and music blaring in my ears, I don’t hear when she joins me. It’s not until my skin tingles with awareness that I look up at the doors and find her leaning against the wall, still wearing my jersey but with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, that I realize I’ve got company.
“Shit,” I mutter, putting down my sander and pulling my AirPods out. “Hey,” I say, a smile twitching at my lips. It feels incredible after the anger that fueled me yesterday.
“Please, don’t let me stop you,” she says, gesturing for me to continue.
Resting back against the counter, I watch as her eyes drop down my body and her teeth sink into her bottom lip.
My temperature spikes and my cock once again swells with the thought of being inside her, of finally making her mine.
“Enjoying yourself, were you?” I ask, my brow quirking up in amusement.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“That’s a real shame, little mouse, because you don’t have time to stand around enjoying yourself.”
“Oh?” she asks, her head tilting to the side and reminding me so much of a younger version of herself. “And why’s that.”