Strike

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Strike Page 12

by Jennifer Ryder


  I take her hands from my shoulders and place them at her sides. “I’m with someone,” I say coolly.

  “Really?” she says, and purses her lips again. Her eyes look like they’re about ready to burn me into a pile of ash. She scoffs. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care if you don’t.”

  “Yeah, but for how long?”

  As far as I’m concerned, indefinitely.

  “Well, she must really know how to work that body of yours then, because I seem to remember you telling me casual is your thing.”

  I look away. April hasn’t come close to working me. It’s killing me, but I see that blinding light at the end of the tunnel. We’re nearly there.

  “She mustn’t be that good, if you’re scowling like that when you think about her,” she says and laughs like an evil witch.

  Now I’m pissed. It’s none of her goddamn business.

  “Casual was my thing,” I say through gritted teeth. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to be somewhere.”

  “A leopard never changes his spots. Just remember that, Jones,” she says, running her nails down my slim black tie.

  Is she right? Am I just a piece of shit serial one-nighter? April knows about my past, but she still wants me. At least I think she does. Perhaps April deserves better.

  Julianna runs her hand down my stomach and between my legs, palming my dick. “If she’s not sucking this big boy,” she squeezes, “there’s something wrong with her. I’ll happily volunteer, as long as I get a good, hard fuck in return.”

  I’m disgusted with myself. She made my dick semi-hard. I slap her hand away. “Don’t,” I warn.

  “Ah, there you are young Jones,” Frank says, and then takes his time eye-fucking Julianna. She laps it up, and looks at him as if she’s ready to drop to her knees. Frank’s certainly not bad looking for his age, and I’ve seen the way women have checked him out tonight. Well, I guess the way they’ve gazed at both of us in our dinner suits. I just haven’t engaged in ‘eye’ conversation with any of them.

  “Julianna,” the redhead says, holding out her hand to Frank. He takes it and twists it at the wrist, kissing her knuckles.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Julianna. I’m Frank.”

  “Ooh, I love your accent. Canadian?” she coos.

  “Yes, my lovely. Canadian,” he replies.

  “I’m off to play blackjack, Frank,” I interrupt, seeing my opportunity to flee.

  “Sure,” he says, waving me off, his attention not leaving Julianna. “It would be my pleasure to buy you a drink, Julianna.” I stride towards the tables.

  I win a few hands, I lose a few. I don’t even wanna play. I slam down another vodka, willing this night to be over. Maybe I should get completed shitfaced so they kick me out.

  Julianna shamelessly flirts with Frank at the table next to me, every now and then looking at me with a fucking smarmy expression on her face. I know she’s trying to make me jealous, but she’s only pissing me off more. If that’s even possible. I never should have hooked up with her. I knew in my gut the way she’d targeted me that she was going to be trouble.

  A dozen or so hands later, Frank strolls over to me, looking ten-feet tall with his arm hooked around Julianna’s waist. “This beauty has offered to walk me to my room upstairs. She thought you might like to join us.”

  The sick thing is not that long ago I would have accepted the invitation. Fuck, I did her with Ryan, for Christ’s sake.

  Julianna tilts her head to the side and raises an eyebrow. Like she’s daring me. My opinion of her has now stooped to an all-time low.

  “She’s all yours, Frank. Enjoy the rest of your time in Sydney.”

  He shakes my hand. “I have a feeling I will.”

  Finally, I get to go home.

  ****

  * APRIL *

  Thursday

  Even without Spencer in my bed, I’d managed to sleep reasonably well. It might have had something to do with all the wine Soph and I polished off last night. I’d enjoyed sitting up late, talking about anything and everything. I hadn’t said a whole lot about Spencer, but when I did, Soph had rolled her eyes that far into her head I was worried she’d do permanent damage. She warned me not to fall too hard. But I knew it was already too late. I’m his.

  I’d desperately wanted to text Spencer last night to see how his evening was going, but thought I’d better not get clingy. I’d worn his t-shirt to bed, his smell surrounding me as I’d drifted off to sleep. It was the closest I could get to having him in the flesh.

  Hooking up my camera to my laptop, I download all the photos from the memory card. I sort them into named folders, emailing off a couple to Aidan and Dad as promised. Photos of Spencer are the last ones I sort. Even with that stupid expression on his face, looking more duck than human, he’s pretty. Gorgeous even. I smile as I save it as the wallpaper on my laptop. Pretty boy is gonna hate it.

  Mid-morning, my phone buzzes.

  SPENCER: DON’T COOK TONIGHT. I’LL PICK YOU UP AT SEVEN.

  Ooh. I’m loving the sound of that.

  ME: WHERE ARE WE GOING??

  SPENCER: TO DINNER

  No joke, dipshit. I got that much. I wonder if he’s taking me somewhere laid-back like Wild and Free-Range, or something more high-end? Knowing how much he loves his food, I’m thinking the latter. The problem is if it’s too high-end, my wardrobe might not be flash enough. I rarely get the opportunity to dress up. Besides, the fact is it’s not really my scene. I like casual.

  ME: WHAT DO I WEAR?

  SPENCER: I’D PREFER NOTHING, BUT PERHAPS SOMETHING THAT SHOWS THOSE LEGS OFF

  A dress.

  I rush into my bedroom and flip through my clothes on the hangers. The only thing I have that’s semi-formal is an emerald-green pencil dress with a square neck. I’d worn it to a presentation night years ago. It’ll have to do, because I hate shopping and I don’t have the time to do it now. The green dress it is. Maybe I should tease him a little, to see how dressy we’re talking.

  ME: SURE THING. BOOTS OR HEELS?

  SPENCER: BOTH GET MY DICK HARD, BUT HEELS ARE PREFERABLE

  As I’m sure he intended, my thoughts go straight there.

  ME: WILL YOU BE WEARING A SUIT?

  If it’s anything like what he had on yesterday, it’s going to be hard to get through dinner without attacking him. That suit, his riding gear, jeans and a T-shirt … let’s face it: he looks hot in anything. Even my shirt. No wait, especially my shirt.

  SPENCER: DO YOU WANT ME TO?

  ME: YES PLEASE *INSERT DIRTY GRIN HERE*. IF I HAVE TO WEAR A DRESS, YOU’RE WEARING A SUIT.

  SPENCER: SOLD.

  ME: I’LL BE READY X

  SPENCER: NOW STOP THINKING DIRTY THOUGHTS ABOUT ME, OR YOU’LL BE WORN OUT BY THE TIME I PICK YOU UP XXX

  ME: I’M NOT PROMISING ANYTHING.

  ****

  * SPENCER *

  Opening the door, April stands there wearing a snug green dress and a sly smile. The weight of my heart crushes the air out of my lungs. She’s done something different with her hair so it falls in waves that have my fingers desperate to play with. She has a little makeup on—the freckles on her nose are not as noticeable—and her lips? Damn, those sweet luscious lips. I wanna taste.

  “Hey, you,” she says, clutching her purse in one hand and her keys in the other. She moves to close the door.

  “Wait. Don’t move,” I say, taking a step back.

  She freezes, the door handle gripped tight in her hand. “Why?”

  “I’m debating whether we can leave the building. Just give me a sec.” I should scoop her up in my arms and kiss the fuck out of her, carry her to her kitchen, her room, the couch. I don’t care where. My greedy hands want to hold her squeeze her, touch her, have her body —

  The door slams shut, waking me from my sexy daydream. April widens her stance in her strappy black heels. She places her hands on her hips, her mouth twitching to the side. “It’s just a dress,
Spencer. Calm yourself. You said you were taking me to dinner. I’ve spent more time than I should getting ready. It’d be rude to change plans at such short notice.”

  She bats her eyelashes, and smooths the dress over her hips. The dress is like a second skin ending just above her knees, not a line in place. Sweet Jesus. Is she wearing a bra … panties, even?

  “Please tell me you’re wearing underwear …” I mutter.

  She links her arm through my bent elbow and pulls me down a few stairs. “Come on, let’s go,” she whispers, and bites on her bottom lip as if she’s trying not to laugh. Well, I’m not laughing. But she’s probably right. We need to go.

  I had to do some serious begging to get us a booking. No month-wait for us. I want her to experience the food I had last night. I know she’ll appreciate it, and I’m dying to hear all those yummy noises she makes when she eats.

  “You didn’t answer my question. It’s pretty important,” I say.

  She laughs softly, but still doesn’t talk. “Truth?” she asks, as we get in my car.

  I start the ignition and put on my seatbelt. “Yeah. Give it to me.”

  “No,” she says after making me wait at least thirty seconds.

  I laugh, knowing there’s nothing else left to say. April’s going commando. And I’m gonna be sitting across from her at dinner obsessing over it.

  “Happy?” she asks.

  Happy? No. I’m in some state of delirium.

  “That’s not the word I’d use to describe how I’m feeling.” I bite my tongue instead of telling her I’m feeling horny as fuck.

  ****

  April turns heads the moment we walk in, and they follow her all the way to her seat. The waiter who looked after us last night is a lot more chipper now I have April by my side. He hands us our menus, and promises to return moments later.

  “Maybe you should let me order. I know what’s good,” I say, making a dig at her.

  April smirks. “Very funny.” She scans the list, raising her eyebrows every now and then. “It all looks amazing, so whatever you think.”

  The waiter returns and I order the tasting menu for each of us, as well as a glass of champagne.

  “So, how was last night?” she asks.

  I huff and take in a deep breath. It was shit.

  “That good, huh?”

  “I hate the whole ‘pretending to love it’ shit. Dad must know my heart’s not in it, but he continues to push me, guilt me into doing stuff. The whole idea about last night was assuring a major client that I’ll be there when the old man semi-retires. It’s the last thing I want for my future.”

  “Why don’t you talk to him?”

  “He doesn’t like to talk. Rather, he likes to talk, I just rarely get the opportunity to speak back.”

  She reaches across the table and I take her hand, running my thumb over her knuckles.

  “He’ll listen to you one day, Spencer. You just have to pick your moment. You’ll know when it’s the right time.”

  I just hope she’s right.

  “So the night can’t have been all bad. Good food, wine—I’m assuming the company was alright?”

  It was fine up until Julianna showed up.

  “What happened?” she asks, squeezing my hand.

  “What do you mean?” I ask. Am I that obvious?

  “That look on your face isn’t telling me the night was a blast.” Should I tell her? Surely she wouldn’t get upset. I didn’t do anything wrong. “Tell me,” she says, her eyes begging me to open up.

  “I ran into someone I’ve been avoiding.”

  “A girl?”

  “Yeah.”

  She presses her lips together, and breathes in deeply through her nose. “And?” Her eyebrows raise expectantly. I don’t know if this is a good idea telling her.

  “She cornered me and groped me. When I said I wasn’t interested … that I was with someone, she told me I wasn’t ever gonna change. Leopards don’t change their spots, or some shit.”

  April sighs, and gives me a soft smile. “Do you think you’ve changed?”

  “Yeah.” I know I have. Because of you.

  “Then why are you worried about someone, who I’m assuming you barely know, saying crap like that?”

  “It just pissed me off. I don’t want you to think …” I sigh loudly. “I know I’m not good enough for you, but I’m trying real hard to be. I just don’t know how to show you.”

  “You are showing me, Spencer. Every day.” Her heartfelt smile confirms that I’m doing okay. But I still don’t have a clue if I can be the man she needs and deserves.

  “I don’t know the first thing about dating. I’m fuckin’ romantically challenged.”

  She smiles and rolls her eyes. “Shut the hell up, Spencer. You know when you came by my apartment yesterday?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Yeah.”

  “That was probably the romantic highlight of my life.”

  Seriously? Her ex must have been completely fucked up. He had years to show her what she meant to him.

  “But it was just a kiss.”

  “You know and I know it wasn’t just a kiss. You went out of your way to show me that even though you couldn’t be with me last night, I was on your mind. What you may have thought was a small gesture meant more to me than you think.”

  “So I didn’t disappoint you?”

  “Life gets in the way. We do what we have to do. You had to do something with your work; I respect that. You didn’t want to let your father down. I was fine. Soph and I ate pizza and drank far too much wine. I’m a big girl. It’s not like I was crying into a tub of ice cream because you couldn’t be there.”

  “You missed me though, right?”

  “Of course, but you were there in spirit.”

  “Meaning? Please don’t tell me you came in your sleep,” I say quietly, so as not to be overheard.

  “Calm yourself, Spencer. I slept in your shirt.”

  “And, did you?”

  “No. I thought I’d wait until I was with you before I had another …” She looks around at nearby tables. “… moment.”

  Oh, man. Will it happen tonight?

  “Stop grinning. It’s not what you think … but it’s … more,” she says.

  Our first dish arrives, and the waiter explains it in detail. I don’t want detail from him, I want it from April. After he leaves, I lean in across the table. “You know it’d be amazing, you and me. Aren’t you tired of saying no?”

  She grins, but it fades as quickly as it appeared. “Yeah, saying no is getting a lot harder.”

  “I won’t lie to you, April. I’m stuck in this horny fog. I can’t see straight, can’t think straight. I wanna be with you. Not just to get in your pants—I want all of you. I want to be your lover, your friend and whatever else you want me to be. I can talk to you, more than I have with anyone.”

  “I asked you to be real. You’re doing just that. I want all that too,” she says softly.

  I’m moving too fast. I know it. I just don’t know any other speed.

  “But we’re not there yet,” I mutter. “And that’s okay.”

  “We’re close.” She smiles and rubs her leg against mine. “Come on. Let’s hurry up and eat. I wanna go home.”

  Horny little minx. And I can’t wait to get you there.

  “We’ve got five courses to go. It may take a while,” I add.

  “That’s okay. In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy this beautiful food, and get to know more about you. Tell me more about riding.”

  “You know I could talk about that all night.”

  She shakes her head, a soft laugh escaping her sweet mouth. “That’s the idea, you muppet.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  * APRIL *

  Walking up the stairs to my apartment, Spencer holds a suit bag and a couple of shirts in one hand, and my hand tight in the other. We go to my room and he hangs his clothes in my wardrobe. It feels familiar, like it’s a routine we’ve been doi
ng forever, when in reality it’s only been a few days. I like it a lot.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and lean down to unbuckle my heels.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Spencer snaps, kneeling in front of me.

  No I don’t? “What?”

  “I’ve been waiting all night to take these heels off you. Let me.”

  I lean back on my elbows and straighten out my leg. With a soft press of his lips, he kisses my ankle and runs his adept fingers along the buckle. His touch sends a cavalry of goosebumps up my body, and I bring my thighs closer together. I’m wet. With no underwear on. I should have re-thought that decision, but when I was getting ready I was so turned on knowing how it would affect him when he eventually worked it out.

  Spencer gives my other foot the same treatment, but this time he runs his tongue over my ankle bone, causing a moan in the back of my throat. I don’t want him to stop.

  Spencer stands up and takes off his shirt jacket, hanging it up. I sit up, and watch him with interest as he unbuckles his belt and slips off his pants. The bottom of his shirt partially hangs over his snug boxer briefs, but it does little to hide his excitement.

  “So what’s this more you were talking about?” he asks, folding his suit pants and laying them over my chair.

  I clear my throat. I’ve been practising how I’m going to say this all day, but now my mind has gone blank. I don’t want this to come out the wrong way.

  “Show me you can put me first. Tonight, make it all about my pleasure, not yours.”

  He takes off his tie and unbuttons his shirt, and I prepare to see more of Spencer than I’ve had the pleasure of. He throws his shirt to the floor and kneels again at my feet.

 

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