The Masks We Wear by Lee Jacquot
THIRTY TWO
Spencer Hanes just told me he wanted me. Through all the shit I’ve thrown at him, and after the hot and cold that is my screwed-up heart, he said he wanted me. And even though it shouldn’t excite me as much as it does, my pulse accelerates, thrumming through my body with anticipation.
Nevermind, I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s only sex-related, I still let my mind take the three-letter answer and run with it. At least for tonight.
Just this one time.
After that, I can do the whole closure thing and move on. We just need to get it out of our system.
I keep my face as neutral as I can, tilting my head away from his. “Who says I’m on the menu?”
He laughs. It’s low, gravelly, and sexy as hell. It connects with my core, sending a pool of desire soaking into my thin underwear. I rip myself out of our bubble and force my feet to the bed where my pajamas are laid out. Instead of looking at him directly, I speak over my shoulder. “I’m taking a shower. You need to get some—”
A sharp gasp steals my words.
Spencer presses into my back, letting one hand snake up to the front of my throat and the other holding me by the waist. He tightens his grasp, and suddenly his lips are on the curve of where my neck ends and shoulder begins.
My skin tingles under his mouth, and I lean into him, unable to fight how good it feels. His hand that was holding my waist moves up, untying my towel and letting it fall to the floor. My moans echo in the air as he twists me around, his lips nearly touching mine.
His eyes somehow darker even more. “I said, I’m hungry.”
With a light shove, I’m on the bed, sprawled out for him to see. His eyes rove the length of my body, an index finger following behind his gaze, lighting my skin on fire in the process.
In those two seconds, any logic or reasoning behind not enjoying this moment dissolves, and I reach up to grab his collar. His mouth collapses on top of mine, gentle at first, but then his tongue slips through and takes control. We stay like this for what feels like forever, exploring and tasting, kissing, and nipping.
Lost in time, we make up for all the kisses we should have shared and all the ones we won’t in the future.
But unlike our farewell in the green room, there’s no finality to it. This feels like an introduction.
The one of many.
He breaks our kiss, and my mouth mourns its loss, but it only lasts a moment. His warm lips trail down my body, his lashes fluttering across my skin like butterfly kisses as he descends.
Shivers wrack through me as I watch him, anticipation coiling low in my belly. I writhe beneath him, thrusting my body into his until he takes one large hand and holds me in place.
I groan my disapproval, and he smiles against my thigh. He gently removes my panties and gives me a warning. “Try not to move.”
Spencer’s face disappears, and a second later, I throw my head back into the pillow, his warm mouth shocking my nerves into overdrive. His tongue moves quickly, prying my pussy open and finding my throbbing clit immediately, forcing my back to arch.
A growl rips from the depths of his throat as he grabs both sides of my ass, pulling my body closer to actually feast on. One hand reaches up, pulling my bra down, letting my breast tumble out. He rolls the pebbled nipple in his fingers with surprising expertise while his other sneaks down below his mouth and slides inside my soaking channel.
My eyes flutter shut, unable to look any longer, and a long moan spills from my mouth.
“You taste too fucking good,” he groans.
His fingers curl while his tongue continues its assault, moving in rapid circles until stars light up the inside of my eyelids. My muscles tense, lightning bolts of pleasure spreading through my body, from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair. Every inch of skin tingles until finally, with one last suck of my sensitive bud, the orgasm rips through me. My back arches from the bed, and my hips move of their own accord, chasing Spencer’s mouth as my pussy tightens around his finger, drawing it deeper inside.
It’s not until I’m greedily gulping air that I realize I was holding my breath. He laps at my orgasm, draining my cunt of every drop until I finally come down, and my eyes trail along my bare stomach to a grinning Spencer.
He pulls his fingers from my pussy with an audible squelch and samples each one, closing his eyes as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. After he’s done, and a blush has worked its way up my entire face, he threads a hand under my back and scoops me up like a doll, placing me at the head of the bed. I grab the top sheet, sliding it over the both of us as he settles in beside me.
Realization starts to sink in, and my pulse increases, screaming the millions of ways this will explode in my face. My body vibrates from the erratic thoughts, and a horrible chill takes over.
None of this is what I expected. It wasn’t angry or aggressive. It was passionate, and specifically just for me.
Why would he do that?
As if he can read my mind, he kisses my bottom lip twice. “Stay with me. Whatever’s going on up there, ignore it and just be here in this space with me.”
I nod, and the softness of his voice pushes away the stress, at least for now.
Spencer rests in the crook of my arm, draping his own across my waist to pull me closer. The temptation to play in his hair is strong, so I decide not to fight it, threading my fingers in his soft locks.
He glances up and kisses the tip of my chin before laying back down and sighing. “Do you remember that time when it was raining, and I came over, and we stayed up all night in the treehouse?” His voice is low, still filled with sex, as his hand trails up my naked stomach. Every spot his fingertips touch lights the skin on fire underneath, and suddenly my core is aching all over again.
I bite back a laugh. “That was every day for half our summers. You’ll have to be more specific.”
He huffs through his nose. “Good point. But this time was different. You asked if I’d been crying.”
There was only one time that ever happened. We were in sixth grade, and the storm outside was one for the books. When Spencer sent me the text, asking to meet, I didn’t hesitate. I think a piece of me knew something was wrong.
His eyes were red and puffy—a look I wore more than I ever let on. So when he told me he wasn’t upset, I knew it was a lie. I didn’t push him, though. Instead, just brought out my laptop, and we watched a movie he had been begging to watch for weeks. When he fell asleep, I cried, cuddling him until I didn’t have any tears left.
“I remember.”
He pinches my nipple softly, and I gasp. “I lied.”
Nodding, I tug his hair to make him look at me. “I know.”
He flips over, resting his forearms on either side of my head. His chocolate eyes search my face, and I melt under the golden flakes swirling in them.
“It was when we found out my mother’s treatments weren’t working, and she was advancing to near moderate stages of Alzheimer’s. It was still early, but they knew it wouldn’t be long.” He presses his lips to mine.
Once.
Twice.
“You made me so happy that night. I knew you didn’t want to watch that show. But you did it anyway. That was the third time I knew I loved you.”
“The third?” My brows furrow, but he doesn’t respond.
Instead, he lies on his side, returning to his previous position. His eyes flutter shut, and he just murmurs a soft, “third.”
A few moments later, his breath becomes steady and heavy, filling the room with his tempo. I lay still for what’s probably hours, listening to his rest.
I want to stay like this forever. Forget the world and just exist here in our own private bubble. But the shower water that’s still running won’t let me.
Forcing myself to get up, I gently move his arm and hop out of bed, meandering to the bathroom. When I pass the front door, Spencer’s backpack catches my eye. It’s open, and half the contents are sprawled on the ground. I bend down, sticking the items back in, when something catches my eye.
I examine it slowly, and within a second, an idea materializes.
I’m supposed to be closing things here, guarding my heart against ever breaking again.
But hey, what’s one more time?
