In disbelief at how utterly in love I am with this girl, I shake my head and whisper, “Spence, you didn’t have to do all of this. Not for me.”
Her eyes cut to mine. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” She reaches to take my hand. “I want to give you this. Give you me, again. To share this experience with you knowing that the last five years, no matter how difficult, led us right back to this moment because we were meant to be. Forever and as one. Always.”
I’m forced to swallow deeply because she’s all I’ve ever wanted in this world. And to know I had her just barely within my grasp before she was ripped away …
There’s nothing I want to do more at this moment than to reclaim her.
She’s mine.
I interlace our fingers and pull her gently onto my lap. Her long legs straddle my hips and her long blonde tresses fall over her shoulders as she leans to tug the band securing my own hair.
As it falls loosely, she threads her fingers into the sides, pressing it back as she leans in and gently touches her lips to my forehead. Then my temple. The top of my cheek. The tip of my nose. After sweeping her mouth lightly across mine, she performs the same ritual on the other side of my face.
My hands disappear under the fabric of her gown, my flattened palms pressing against the warm, smooth skin of her thighs as they make their way up her body. My thumbs skim the sensitive skin as my hands move forward, stopping once I reach the tops of her legs to lightly trace the line of her panties. Her breaths quicken, heated as they fan my face. She lowers her head, and with feather-like movements, gently brushes her lips across mine as my hands continue their plight.
She smiles against my mouth as her stomach muscles quiver under the tips of my fingers, embarrassed by her body’s reaction to my touch. As though searching for an equal response from mine, she tilts her hips, pressing her core into my throbbing erection.
I hiss with the movement. “God, Spencer. You feel so…” She slides her hips downward as her tongue parts my lips. I continue mumbling into her mouth with a groan. “Good.”
After a deep sweep of her tongue, she leans away just as my fingers find the lining under her breasts. My eyes rake over her entire body as she sits in front of me, completely vulnerable and waiting for my touch. I remove my hands from under the sheer fabric, then press her hair toward her back, allowing my fingers to linger on the soft skin of her shoulders. My view now unobscured, all I can do is stare at the beauty of her body as she continues stroking my cock with her movements.
Her eyes are half-lidded and her lips are parted as her hips rock back and forth. “I need to feel you, Dalton. Please, I need this. I need you.”
The sight of her lost in the throes of passion, the needy flush that reddens her cheeks as she continues her rhythm…
Forcing in a much-needed breath through my nose, I reach forward to touch the top of her throat. Her head falls back as I drag my fingers down the skin of her neck, then splay them as they cross her collarbone to feel the softness of her bare chest. My fingers continue moving downward until my hand finds the bow. I pinch the ribbon between my thumb and forefinger, then tug it slowly, deliberately. The two halves fall open, the centerline of her body completely bared to me as the material clings to the top of her breasts. Her nipples harden under the fabric as I trace the fingers of both hands along the curve of her inner breast then down her stomach. I stroke them lightly along the hemline of her panties, watching as her breasts bounce with her movements. Filled with need, I lift my hands to cup those breasts, skimming along the tops of her nipples with the pad of my thumb.
“Spence…” I need to get this out before we go any further. After five years without sex, I’m not accustomed to carrying around protection.
Knowingly, she silences me with a shake of her head. A tinge of sadness streaks her eyes with her honest reply. Almost as though reassuring me, she reaches forward and presses her palm against my cheek. “There was only Brandon and we always did it with a condom. We didn’t need to. I mean, I’m still on birth control, but I needed to have that barrier between us. I still wanted that one thing to only belong to you. I never gave him all of me. Ever.”
With her admission, my throat clogs with emotion for the second time tonight. But this one I know. Relief floods me as my hands find the sides of her head, my fingers weaving into her hair as I pull her to me and crash her mouth against mine. The kiss is desperate, trying to make up for every second lost between us. Our mouths seal and our breaths become one. My tongue sweeps along hers while hers caresses mine. She presses her hips forward and swallows my growl deep in her throat.
Breaking the kiss, Spencer tilts her head back once again and moans deeply as she begins to ride me harder.
“Fuck…” is the last thing I’m able to mutter before all control is lost.
Releasing my hold on her breasts, I grab her hips and begin directing her movements. My fingers bite into the flesh of her ass, digging in as I guide her hips in stroking me while pressing into her warm core. Her heat emanates through my jeans as I continue to unabashedly push and pull her body to match my rhythm. Her head lolls forward and her hands find my chest. Fisting my shirt in both hands, she begins to thrust with such force, with such need, that the only thing I can concentrate on is filling her hunger.
Pressing my body off the couch, I clear the birthday contents with one firm swipe of my arm, then lean her back onto the blanket. The nightie falls free from her breasts, lining the sides of her body as her hair is splayed out beneath her head.
The sight is fucking magnificent.
Rising to my knees, I lean forward to peel the straps over her shoulders. She lifts her arms to assist in the removal, but I leave the gown under her body as I sit back on my heels, hook my fingers into the sides of her panties, and tear them down her legs. Yanking my jeans open with one hand, I use the other to fist the back of my shirt and pull it over my head.
As my gaze falls to hers, she grins, rolls toward the basket, and pulls out… a Wonder Woman sleeping bag.
I shake my head. “You’re killing me. I think I just lost my erection.”
Her laughter fills my ears and the sound of it livens my soul. I can’t find the smile that breaks across my face as I grab the stupid sleeping bag, still shaking my head, and cover my bare back with it before lowering my body on top of her.
As soon as I slide my naked chest against hers, my eyes are forced shut with my groan.
“Your erection feels just fine to me.” She giggles.
“Yeah, well, it’s killing me,” I reply with a half-grin as I open my eyes.
Her smile steals my breath as she places her hands on the sides of my waist. “I can totally help you with that.”
Sliding her thumbs into my waistband, she presses down on my boxers, taking the jeans along with them as they drag over my hips. My cock springs free and I groan with relief before my eyes fall to the lip held between her teeth. Greedy for a taste, I lower my head and suck that lip into my mouth, flicking it with my tongue and nipping it lightly.
Her moan fills the air and vibrates against my chest as she hooks my jeans with her foot and continues with their removal. Once they’re lodged at my ankles, I kick them off then realign my body with hers.
Placing my elbows on either side of her head, I cup her face with my hands and gently stroke her cheeks with my thumbs. My eyes lock with hers as I find her entrance, and as the warmth of her coats the tip of my cock, the sensation launches fiery pulses of pleasure straight to my balls. I watch intently as she closes her eyes with the shudder of her body against mine. Once she reopens them, her hooded gaze sets me on fire, the same way it did years ago. It’s as though no time has passed between us.
She lifts her hand and grazes my cheek. “I love you, Dalton. It’s always been you for as long as I can remember.”
I swipe her hair away from her face and narrow my eyes on her stare. “I love you too, Spence. You have always been, and will always be, everything to me.
”
I focus my gaze at her mouth, which curves into a beautiful smile, before meeting her eyes once again. In complete awe, I shake my head. “So. Fucking. Beautiful.”
As soon as the last word leaves my lips, I slide into her body, taking my time as I fill her. Instead of pain, her face exhibits only pleasure as she draws her tongue across her lips. Her eyes are heavy, laden with desire as I continue to stroke her insides. She groans as her muscles clench tightly all around me, and as I bury myself in her, they begin to quiver with my movements. I hook my arm underneath her lower back and her legs circle my waist, pulling our bodies close as we grind against each other. I know I won’t last long, not after my lengthy celibacy streak, but this isn’t about me. This is about making a new memory for her, and God willing, it’s going to be one of the best of her life, so I try to take my time and pay attention to her reactions.
The way her muscles respond to the strokes I deliver.
The way she moans with each circle of my hips, and the way her fingers tear at the blanket, searching for something to grasp.
I trace her skin, caress her thighs, nip her breasts, thumb her clit… All deliberate touches made to drive her to the brink. I pump in and out of her body, and when I find that one spot, the spot that has her clawing my skin and screaming my name, I drive harder. Pump faster. Until finally, tremors vibrate all around my cock as her muscles constrict, massaging as they contract around me.
My release is imminent, drawn out by her body’s greedy demand. And she welcomes it with her muscles still grasping me, drinking me, completely consuming me until I have nothing left to give. Strength is drawn from my muscles as I fall on top of her, our sweat-lined bodies sliding against each other with our heavy breaths. I will myself to lift my head, my stare met swollen lips forming a satiated grin. I cover them with my mouth, my tongue connecting with hers, and I sweep in deeply to devour as much of her taste as I can.
After one more greedy pass into her mouth, I give her a tender peck on the lips, then fall off her body and roll onto my back. We lay side-by-side, panting as we stare at the ceiling with Wonder Woman clinging to our bodies. I twist my neck and watch her chest as it rises rapidly, satisfied with her heavy breaths. She turns to me with a wide smile on her face and her eyes bright.
“All that was missing were the stars.”
“And Spiderman,” I remind her.
She giggles then rolls her naked body to face me. “I have something I want to show you.”
My mind begins to conjure up all sorts of things I want her to show me, but I keep them to myself.
As though reading my thoughts, she laughs, then covers herself with the sleeping bag before sitting upright and leaning to snag the basket. I grab my boxers from my jeans and slip them on while she sets a rectangular object covered with a small sheet of fabric on the blanket. I watch as she pinches the fabric between her fingers.
“Ready?” she inquires, excitement radiating from her body as she bounces slightly.
I nod with a half-grin on my face.
Slowly, Spencer lifts the sheet and once it’s removed, I angle my neck for a better look. Held within a clear display box are two items. One of the objects I recognize, the other I don’t. She clears her throat and places her hand on the top of the box.
“So I had this box that I kept with some stuff from my birthday. Actually, not everything because Cassie gave me that picture that’s hanging on my wall in my room that night. But everything else I put inside a box because I couldn’t look at them. The memories of that day were just too much for me then. But sometimes, randomly through the years, I would pull it out of my closet and look inside as a form of punishment, I think.”
My mouth opens, but she shakes her head to silence me. “I was angry. So angry. At you, at myself, at life, everything. And it was that anger that kept me from seeing what was right in front of my face.” Her finger points toward the compass. “My mom gave me this that day. It’s one of Jim’s heirlooms.”
I narrow my eyes to get a better look at the compass. I feel like I know Jim from what Spencer has told me throughout the years. She loved him very much.
“She gave it to me so that if I ever lost my way, it would serve as a reminder of the important things in life. A way of guiding me back onto my path. And I think this was Jim’s way of trying to help me since the day you left.” Her blue eyes glisten as they find mine. “I lost my way when you left, Dalton. But this compass, it’s telling me right where I needed to be. Where my path lies, and it lies with you. Look.”
I lean toward the front of the case, where the magnetic heart I gave her resides on a stand. Right next to it, the open compass sits in a black velvet box with the needle pointing directly at it. Spencer wipes the moisture from her eyes and I take her hand into mine as we stare in silence at the contents of the box.
“The magnets,” I breathe.
She smiles, then scans my face. “It might be the magnets. But it’s always been you, Dalton. Neither time nor distance could break the connection that we share. We’re two souls joined. I lost faith in that, lost faith in you. But you,” she shakes her head. “You never did.”
I touch my mouth tenderly to hers. “I never did and I never will.”
Her lips smile against mine as I wrap my arm around her shoulder, then pull her into my body. She nestles her head into my neck and candlelight flickers all around us as we stare in silence at the box.
After a few minutes, she whispers, “I love you.”
My cheek presses into her hair with my smile. “I love you too, Pencil.”
Her giggle hits my ears and I grin wider. As I hold her close, our bond is fully solidified as we are rejoined. We are one—in heart and soul, in body and mind.
Yet, as though waiting for the chance to ruin this moment for me, for us, the dealings at the warehouse earlier tonight invade my mind. The constant heavy feeling begins to draw tight in my stomach. Something is coming, and soon. Unbeknownst to Spencer, as her contented breaths fill my ears and the happiness in her heart floods mine, it’s then and there that I make my vow.
Nothing will ever come between us again.
Not even Silas Kincaid.
I will make fucking sure of it.
YES, THANK YOU FOR THE information.” My voice is clipped as I end the call.
Leaning forward, I hit the “Speak” button. “Bates.”
His thick voice reverberates through the speaker. “Yes, boss?”
“Have you transferred the last of my money to the accounts specified?”
“It was done earlier this morning.”
Hitting “Speak” again, I inquire, “And my passport?”
“All set.”
I nod to myself, then press the button one last time. “I need you in my office.”
“On my way.”
I ease back into my chair, lost in thought about my long lost prodigal son.
About his chosen alliances when he became a fucking traitor.
All I asked for, in return for my provisions, was loyalty. Loyalty to me and my organization.
From the age of twelve, I made sure he was provided for, that he was protected, that he had some semblance of family. And this is how he fucking repaid me?
Five years ago I lost him, but he’s not the only thing I lost.
The prominence of my organization ceased to exist that very night. Even though I had Juan silenced immediately upon his arrival in prison, it didn’t matter. My word was void and fear spread like wildfire that he had leaked information to the authorities. My suppliers and distributors vanished. All respect for me was gone. The people around me scattered like a struck ant pile. No loyalty whatsoever—spineless motherfuckers.
Sure I continued to sell, but nothing like before.
Then Bates brings forth a promising prospect. One whose reach would provide me the money and respect I deserve with distribution in new, uncharted areas. So imagine my surprise when this prospect arrived in Fuller and I discovered his t
rue identity.
It’s amazing what money can buy, and as always, Fuller P.D. did not disappoint. I know every move he and his “mentor” have made since he’s been back. Well-informed in advance, I knew exactly how to throw them off my trail. They think they have me, but they don’t.
They’re not even fucking close.
I’ve out-maneuvered them plain and simple. The drugs they keep for investigation have absolutely no tie to me. All their precious recordings have been deleted, all marks linking me to any part of this business have been erased, and any leads to my suppliers are false.
I’ve merely been toying with them until everything was in line. Time was necessary to establish accounts, transfer funds, make new connections—everything needed to make sure I’m able to disappear without a trace.
Not that I wasn’t planning on leaving eventually. His presence merely expedited the process. And it also accelerated my plan to execute the girl. Her death for the destruction of my now crumbled empire was the last thing I planned on before leaving Fuller. Whether he was dead or alive, it was going to be done, but knowing he will be there to watch her lifeless body as it hits the ground is pure vindication. The scales of justice must be balanced.
My sweet revenge.
My final gift to him before I depart.
I glance down at the calendar on my desk and grin. Five years to the day. Almost poetic in nature.
I’m fully immersed in these thoughts as Bates finally enters my office. As soon as he turns to shut the door behind him, I clear my head and focus on the task at hand.
Bates and his eagerness to trust. To be part of something. To have the foundation of family. I preyed on that need at one time, but now it’s become a liability. This isn’t a business for the weak or lighthearted. This isn’t the business for someone like him. And it sure as hell isn’t the business for someone who brings a fucking traitor into my organization.
So with his back facing me, I relieve him of his duty as my bullet is lodged in the back of his skull.
Grabbing the stocked satchel under my desk, I head toward the door, nudging his limp body to the side as I open it.
Under the Influence Page 24