“And if you do sue me, and you do settle, I can’t guarantee that footage will stay private anyway.”
“Fuckstain.” Doug spat the word.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “You can do better than that. Tiny dicked, basement-dwelling neck-bearder.” He looked at Cody. “I was serious about the staff working on my building, as regards your contract. In fact, how about we do a quick walkthrough, to get an idea of where you’re at and what else needs to happen, to keep me happy.”
“Sure.” Cody’s voice wavered, but he stepped forward without hesitation. “Doug. You’re done for the day. You’ll be in the office tomorrow morning at ten, to discuss your termination, and I don’t want to see you between now and then.”
This felt good in the most twisted fucking way possible, and Spencer didn’t regret a second of it. He suspected Trina wouldn’t appreciate the show of testosterone if she were here, but the issue was that she’d lost that privilege due to no fault of her own.
And Spencer was going to make these people squirm for it.
TRINA STILL HADN’T called Tristan back to finalize moving arrangements. Maybe she should pack as much as she could into her car, and ship the rest back home, rather than dealing with truck rental. She could make the trip in a day. It would be a long day, but then it would be over.
She’d be back in Utah, with way too much distance between her and Spencer.
This wasn’t working for her. She missed him. Why did she let him walk away? Why didn’t she fight breaking up harder? Why didn’t he?
Her phone rang. She scowled when she saw her former employer’s name on the screen, and hit Answer. “This is Trina Hough.”
“Trina, this is Janna, with Human Resources.”
“Hi, Janna. What can I do for you?” She didn’t try to keep the irritation from her question.
“I’m wondering if you can come down to the office for a few hours. Whenever your schedule allows, of course.” Janna sounded too kind, too flexible, for Trina to take her seriously.
“Not unless you can tell me what it’s about. I have a busy week ahead of me. Looking for new work. Moving. You understand.”
“Of course.” Janna’s response came too quickly. “And that’s why I’m hoping to talk to you first. I don’t like the way we handled things with you, and I personally want to offer an apology—”
“That’s nice.”
“—and let you know that Doug has been let go. Mr. Powell isn’t happy with his work, without you here to cover for him, and we’ve placed him on terminated him for that and for the way he acted toward you.”
“Awesome.” Trina let the sarcasm ooze into her retort. “Glad to hear we both lost our jobs over it. Thanks for your call. I feel a lot better now.”
“We made a mistake, and I’d like to make things right with you. Extend a severance offer.”
A thought that had been nudging the back of Trina’s thoughts clicked into place. What Spencer had told her about walking away—how it gave him a new perspective on things—suddenly made sense. If she were still in the job, she’d have jumped on this kind of apology. She might have even begged for them to let her stay on.
She’d only been on the outside for a week, and turning down this olive branch could have consequences, but she wasn’t willing to sacrifice more dignity for it. “A severance offer? Really?”
“As long as you’re willing to sign the Non-Disclosure Agreement that comes with it, agreeing not to discuss what happened with Doug.”
“Ha.” Trina almost choked on her amusement. “No. Fuck that, and fuck you. I’ll be out of your company apartment by this weekend, and you can shove your buy-my-silence money up your ass.” She disconnected before Janna could say anything else.
Holy shit—that felt good. Incredible, even.
And wow, she missed Spencer.
Time to start the timer over again.
Fuck that, too. She wanted to see him and was done making excuses for why it was a bad idea. Maybe he’d say he wasn’t interested, though she doubted it. Perhaps they’d get together and it wouldn’t last. She was willing to admit it was a possibility, but she wasn’t willing to give up on them yet.
She sent him a quick text. Can we talk?
His reply came through seconds later. Yes. Please yes.
When and where? She was grinning as she typed her response.
Nothing.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, as the minutes ticked away. Two, then three.
She was being silly. He was probably in the middle of something.
Five. Ten.
She needed to calm down. It was the middle of the day, and one of them had a job.
At the sound of a knock, her stomach dropped into her shoes. She peered through the peephole, and her smile returned full-force and then some, when she saw Spencer.
She opened the door.
“How about here and now?” he asked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Spencer was on his way to Trina’s when she texted. Thank God for voice-to-text replies. But he wanted to surprise her.
From the look on her face, he’d succeeded. “How about here and now?” he asked.
“Sounds perfect.” Trina let him in.
He cradled her cheeks between his palms and kissed her hard, pouring all of his need into the moment.
She groaned against his mouth when she kissed back, gripping his shirt in her fists. This was amazing. How did he convince himself he’d be okay without it?
She broke her hold to push the door shut behind him, but never eased up on the lip lock.
Hands on her hips, he guided her backward to the couch. Her giggles punctuated the nibbles he laid along her jaw and neck. He dropped onto the cushions and pulled her into his lap.
“Christmas Eve? There was a large part of me that hoped the night would go this way.” He nuzzled her ear. “With you riding me.”
She pulled back to look him in the eye. Pink dotted her cheeks, and her eyes were bright. “We have to talk first.”
“You’re right; we do. Unless you mean it in a bad way.”
She shook her head. “I don’t.”
“Good. Then me first.” He nudged up her shirt and teased her bare hips with his thumbs. The skin-on-skin contact was tempting and soothing. “Don’t move home to Salt Lake. Stay here with me. Even if it’s the guest room. Even if it’s only until you find a new job and a new place. If you want to scale us back, I’ll understand, but you have to give us a chance. Hell, you can stay in the beach house, or I’ll go live there if you don’t feel like—”
Her kiss silenced him. She laughed. “I didn’t know rambling was contagious.”
“I’ve been babbling since before you were born. You don’t get to trademark the run-on sentence.” He nudged her nose with his. This was so good. So very right.
“Okay,” she said.
“To which part? It wasn’t a yes or no question.”
“I’ll stay. I wasn’t excited about leaving anyway—way to take the thunder out of my big reveal, by the way.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
He kissed her again. “No. I’m not.”
“And I don’t want you moving out to give me space, or anything ludicrous like that. I’m staying because I want to see what you and I have, so you’d better stick close to me, so we can find out.”
“I think we have something amazing, for what it’s worth.”
“So do I.” She shifted her weight against him, and desire spilled through his veins. “And you’d better not make me sleep in a different room.”
“My bed is yours.”
Her smile turned wicked, and she dragged a nail down his chest. “Speaking of—do you want to help me break in this one, before it’s not mine anymore?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He led her into her room. The walls were blank, and the only real sign of her personality was the retro-Asteroids comforter. He supposed the rest boxed up. That would make i
t easier to get her to his place. Their place.
“Because you have yet to ask for one of my favorites,” he said, “I get to pick today.”
The twist of her full lips was another temptation. “I’m listening.”
He dipped his head and traced his nose up the side of her neck, to her ear. “I want you stripped down, so I can bury my face between your legs,” he murmured against her skin. Her faint whimper fueled his desire. “Run my tongue along your pussy and taste you, until you scream so loud, the neighbors need a cigarette.”
She gasped. “Am I supposed to have a problem with that?”
“Fuck I hope not. I’m done arguing. I want to enjoy you.” He brushed his mouth over hers, then stepped back. “Clothes off. Shirt first.”
Mischief mixed with shyness, as she tugged her top over her head. She reached behind her and he shook his head.
“Jeans next,” he said.
She complied, kicking them aside. She stood in front of him in nothing but a bra and panties, shifting between bringing her arms in front of herself, and letting them drop by her side.
“Hmm.” He furrowed his brow. “This isn’t working for me.” It was a little mean, but he was teasing and he’d make it right soon.
“Why not?”
He moved back to her, gripped her ponytail, and tugged. “I like touching you too much to sit back and watch tonight.” He glided his fingers lightly up her spine to unhook her bra. It fell loose, and he dragged the straps down her arms, to toss the garment aside.
He lowered his head to her breast and drew her nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping.
She groaned and arched her back, pressing into his mouth. “I’m good with the hands-on approach.”
He’d tell her she’d better be, but his mouth was full. He kneaded the other breast while he licked. She squirmed and moaned at the attention for several minutes.
His dick threatened to burst his zipper, but he was enjoying her reactions too much to give it attention.
She covered his hand and pushed it lower. “You mentioned something very specific.”
He met her gaze as he teased her through the crotch of her panties. Damp heat met his touch. “You’re right. I did.” He pushed aside the fabric, and slid two fingers inside her.
She parted her lips with a silent sigh at the penetration, and worked her hips against him.
Christ, he liked watching her. Touching her. Hearing her and tasting her. It was a good thing he didn’t have to pick. He withdrew his hand and raised it to her lips.
She flicked out her tongue and drew his fingers in, sucking her juices from them, watching him the entire time.
He was torn between the desire to give his cock what it wanted—bending her over and fucking her right now, and the need to taste her. He’d already suggested one, so that made the decision easier.
Yanking her panties, he dragged them down her legs, then rested his hands on her hips, and guided her back until she fell onto the bed.
“What do you want me to... Oh.” Her question faded into a sigh when he kissed up the inside of her leg.
He licked along her slick skin. “Lay back. Enjoy yourself.” He nudged her legs open wider, and plunged his tongue inside her.
She let out a tiny cry. The way she arched pressed her into his face.
He’d stay down her for hours if he thought he could. The ache in his groin complained. But he was going to make her come before he stopped. He’d been serious about the neighbors hearing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
This was as new for Trina as most things with Spencer, and wow she liked it. The swipe of his tongue between her legs. The way he licked along her walls. And then when he moved up to suck on her clit...
She raised her butt off the bed to get closer. He moaned and it vibrated through her skin. The sensation of his lips wrapped around her sex was so far from fingers, it wasn’t in the same universe.
Her head grew lighter with each gasp of pleasure. Would it drift away if he kept going? She was vaguely aware her throat was hoarse, but most of her focus was on his touch. He drove his fingers inside her again, and the extra contact pushed her over an edge she didn’t realize she was on.
Trina knotted her fingers in his hair as she came, holding him in place and grinding into his face. She collapsed back on the bed as climax ebbed.
He kissed up her body, over her stomach and chest, spending a moment on each breast, before finally reaching her mouth.
Her flavor on his lips was better than on his fingers. She kissed him hungrily, unable to get close enough. “Your shirt is in the way.” She tugged at the clothing.
He obliged her by tugging it over his head, then crushed his mouth to hers again.
She fumbled with his belt, not at a good angle to undo it.
Spencer pushed her hands out of the way, and shed his pants and boxers. “I’d tease you about being impatient, but me too,” he said. He fisted his cock and teased her entrance.
“No condom,” she said. “I want to feel you.”
He rested a hand by the side of her head, and ducked in for a kiss. “Fuck, you’re perfect. I swear.”
When he plunged inside her, spreading her open, she lost any reply she might have.
The drawn-out play was gone. He pounded hard and fast. The intensity resummoned the floaty feeling in her head.
She slid toward orgasm quickly, surprised as it overtook her. She fisted the blanket, needing something to ground her. The slap of skin on skin stole her thoughts.
Trina clenched around him. His thickness drew out her climax.
Spencer’s grunts and the way he gripped her thighs told her he was close. He spilled inside her when he came, but didn’t stop pounding. He pushed until a final shudder ran through him, then slowed to a stop.
“You’re wrong.” Her throat was rough. Did she really scream? Maybe. She didn’t remember.
“About what?” He dropped onto the bed next to her, lying on his back.
“This isn’t perfect. It’s better than that.”
He tugged her close and wrapped her in a hug. “You won’t get any argument from me there.”
TRINA LAY IN BED WITH her head on Spencer’s chest, listening to the beat of his heart. It was nice waking up like this. She wanted to do it more often. The promise of every day sounded better, the longer she thought about it.
“You probably need to go to work.” She didn’t move, despite the fact that the clock was creeping up toward eight in the morning.
He trailed his fingers through her hair. “At some point. Until the company learns to run itself.”
“I think they call that retirement.”
“I should do that then”—each time he spoke, his words rumbled through her cheek—“if retirement is code for staying in bed all day, enjoying you.”
“That would get old after a while.” She liked the thought, though. It sounded like the perfect way to pass the time.
“So will we. Everything and everyone gets old. Circle of life, and all that.”
She laughed. That happened a lot with Spencer. “Good point. Does that mean you’re calling in today?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
Her phone rang, and she groaned.
“Go answer. Tell them you can’t talk long; you’re about to get laid.”
She pushed into a sitting position. “Is that a promise?”
“Go see who’s calling.” He kissed her fingertips, then let her go.
She crossed the room, aware his gaze followed her naked form until she stepped into the living room. She found her phone on the coffee table, where she’d left it when Spencer stopped by yesterday. The ringing had stopped, but there was a voicemail.
Trina played the message.
“Hi, Trina. This is Cynthia Tremaine. I received your resume for the Network Administrator position I have available, and I’d like to talk to you. Give me a call back when you have a minute.”
Giddiness rippled inside. Trina grabb
ed the closest shirt she could find and tugged it over her head. Wandering through her apartment nude was one thing, but calling someone back about a job made the nakedness feel awkward, for some reason.
As she dialed, she wandered back into the bedroom. Spencer whistled when he saw her. “You wear that so much better than I do,” he said.
She was about to retort, when the line clicked. “This is Cynthia,” a pleasant voice said in her ear.
“Hi. This is Trina, returning your call.”
“Trina, hey. Thanks for getting back to me so fast.” Cynthia sounded genuinely happy to hear from her.
It was a nice change of pace from slogging her way through job postings that didn’t lead anywhere and recruiters who wouldn’t return her call.
Spencer watched her, silent.
She perched on the edge of the bed, and for the next forty-five minutes, she and Cynthia chatted about the job, the company, and Trina’s qualifications.
Cynthia ran a start-up that offered personalized dating matches for clients, and up until now maintained her own hardware. The business was growing, though, and she was spread thinner, so she wanted someone to run her network.
She sounded impressed with each of Trina’s answers to her questions, and nervous when she said the salary wasn’t as high as market value. Not yet.
“But as I grow and you make the position yours, the salary will increase to match. And I’m offering profit sharing.”
“I could handle that.” Trina liked the idea of getting in on the ground floor, especially since this woman was talking about giving her control, despite her limited experience.
As they talked, Spencer got up and moved around the apartment. Trina heard water running and smelled bacon cooking, but she focused on the conversation.
“I’ll be honest—I really like what I’m hearing,” Cynthia said. “When can I get you in here for a face-to-face?”
“Whenever you want me there.” Trina winced. Did that sound desperate?
Cynthia’s laugh said it was okay. They arranged a time that afternoon, and Trina disconnected.
Riding the Wave Page 13