𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲 | ✓

22

((Warning: Ugh, I hate spoiling this chapter, but anyway. Yes, things will escalate. Yes, this chapter is smut :") ))

To say fireworks exploded in me once his lips landed on mine is an understatement.

Spencer tastes like the vodka he just had, bitter with a faint hint of cherry. His warm lips, so fucking addictive and succulent, mold over mine perfectly as he kisses me ever so slowly, deeply, snatching my breath away.

Every single cell in my body comes to life, as though reborn and rejoicing in the bittersweet, familiar yet foreign sense of having his lips on mine. My heart pounds as it aches and celebrates to have the feeling it had not experienced for five years, what my body and soul had been yearning for years now.

His large palm cups my face, electrifying me, sending jolts of pleasure through my body.

I cling to him, fearing this might be a dream. Or even worse, that it's real and he'll come to his senses and pull away. But as he kisses me, his lips moving in sync with mine assuredly, my worries fade away.

I run my hands over the hard planes of his chest muscles, feeling him, trying to make up for all these years, as if that'll ever be possible. My fingers reach for his hair. Oh, those soft curls.

I tug and play with his hair as his other hand snakes around my waist. I moan in his mouth, and he pulls me closer to himself. Butterflies in my stomach go mad.

The emotions I thought I'll never be capable to feel again break loose over me.

Lightheaded from the rush of overwhelming sensations, I happily note how his kiss turns more ravenous with each passing second.

Breathless and floating in the ninth sky, Spencer breaks the kiss, plunging me back to reality. My hands curl into fists, tightly holding on to him, not wanting to let him pull away just yet.

Timidly I open my eyes and meet his burning gaze. Once again, I forget how to breathe as Spencer and I pant. His hot breath fans my lips with each of his heavy exhales.

"I hate you," he hoarsely whispers but doesn't move an inch. His hold tightens on my waist and his hand slides from cheek to the nape of my neck. "I hate you for using me. I hate you for lying to me for all those months... I-I hate you." Spencer rests his forehead on my mine, closing his eyes.

My eyes flutter shut too. "I hate you more. I hate you for leaving me, for hurting me. But I hate you the most for not even once turning and looking back at me," I murmur.

His arm flexes around my waist, pulling me even closer, our thighs press against each other. "Why do you always put me in impossible situations?" he breathes out.

Slowly, as if savoring the feeling, his palm moves along the length of my neck to my collarbone before trailing down to my chest. He lightly drags the back of his hand over the silky fabric of the robe, right over my breast.

My breath hitches, and my fingers tighten on his shirt as my head swims with growing need, and my body burns with desire.

"You won't let that bastard touch you," he growls.

My eyes snap open and I bite my bottom lip to suppress my smile. "Why wouldn't I?"

I'd let that asshole touch me all he wants in front of Spencer if this is what I get out of it. If just talking about it messes him up so much, I can't wait to put this plan into action.

Having Spencer so close to me only clarifies how badly I've missed him and how much I want him... maybe even need him. If getting closer to him is possible by making him jealous, then so be it.