Playing With Spencer by Izaia Winter

Chapter Six

Turner

His lips crashed into mine in a kiss that was nothing like the ones he’d given me a week ago. Those first kisses had been gentle and patient, seductive even. This kiss was everything but. It was hot and fast and demanding as he took what he wanted. Moaning, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on as his tongue tangled with mine.

Pulling back to breathe, Spencer nudged his nose against mine. “Turner, you have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think I’m starting to get the idea.”

Pressing into him to feel his hard cock against my stomach, I tilted my head back to give him more access as his lips skimmed down my cheek to nuzzle my neck. It had been so long since another man had touched me. I felt starved for it. Every touch of his hands sent shards of electricity dancing through my blood. And knowing I affected him just as much was like pouring gasoline on a fire.

“Please,” I begged, not knowing exactly what I was asking of Spencer.

I wanted to rub my cock against his leg until I came in my shorts like an untried schoolboy. I wanted him to push me down on the couch and cover my body with his. I wanted to sit in his lap while his hand slipped into my shorts and wrapped around my cock. I wanted it all, and I wanted it with Spencer.

“I thought you wanted me to finish the story,” he teased as his hands, cold and assertive, slipped under my shirt and caressed my back. I moaned as cool air swirled over my exposed flesh.

“So sensitive,” he whispered, more to himself than to me.

Pulling me with him, Spencer stepped back until his legs hit the edge of a nearby couch then sat down. Without a word or touch to direct me, I scrambled into his lap, moaning when his hands cupped my ass to steady me.

“Careful, baby,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. “This is what’s going to happen. First,” he said, lifting his hands from my body, “I’m going to touch you like this.”

Slipping his hands under the waistband of my shorts and then my underwear, Spencer filled his hands with my bare ass. Squeezing and massaging, he pulled my cheeks apart and teased my crack with his fingers.

“And now I want you to touch yourself while I finish my story.” His eyes fastened themselves to the front of my shorts while he waited for me to comply.

“Now, Turner,” he said, squeezing my ass when I took too long.

With trembling hands, I slipped my fingers into my shorts and wiggled until the fabric stretched tight over my spread legs and my shaft slipped free. Groaning, Spencer licked his lips as he stared at my cock, but his hands stayed where he’d put them. I could tell he wanted to touch. His control was better than mine. I moaned when his finger dipped down and teased at the edge of my hole.

Placing a hand on Spencer’s forearm to steady myself, I reached down and wrapped my fist around my cock. The sensation was instantly familiar, but it felt so new with Spencer watching.

Licking his lips, Spencer began to talk. “Kneeling on the floor beside the bed, I lay my head down next to yours. Your eyes are so wide as you stare at me. I know I’m frightening you, but I kind of like it. You’ve been a thorn in my side for weeks. I tell you so and watch as you stop breathing. You know who I am now. What I’m capable of.”

I wanted to close my eyes and picture the scene Spencer painted for me, but the look on his face held me prisoner. There was desire and need, but there was something else. Something new. Something I’d never seen on a lover’s face.

Awe? Wonder? Reverence?

Whatever it was, I was defenseless against it. Rocking back into Spencer’s clever hands, I stroked my cock in time to the gentle finger rubbing against my opening.

“Spencer,” I whimpered.

“You flinch when I reach for your face, but I ignore it. I know how this looks, and I can’t blame you for your reaction. I broke into your home with the sole intent to silence you, but I… I can’t. You can’t know that, but you will. Springing up from the floor, I crawl onto the bed and straddle your whimpering, wiggling body. Delicious,” he said, his gaze turning hazy with desire as the fantasy he wove seduced himself as much as it did me.

“You try to push me away with your hands. Your nails scrambling against my arms in some feeble attempt to defend yourself. It doesn’t seem like you’re really trying. You’re hurting yourself more than me, and I don’t want that. Grabbing the rope still dangling from your wrists, I reach up and tie your arms to the headboard. There, that’s better. Now you’re completely at my mercy.”

Moaning when his finger breached my tight channel, I swirled my hand around the head of my cock. Up and down, I moved my hand in time to the finger lightly fucking my ass. I wanted to come, yet at the same time, I didn’t. I wanted this moment to last forever. I’d never felt so… seen.

“I trail my fingers down your bound arms in a light caress. You freeze at the gentle, almost tender touch. Confused, you lift your head and watch as my hand ventures down your bare chest. I think you’re starting to get the idea. Your breath shudders in your lungs when I reach the edge of your cotton shorts. Such a flimsy little barrier.”

Swaying in his lap as pleasure swirled through my being I found myself unable to stay upright. Leaning forward, I placed my cheek on his shoulder and tilted my head at an unnatural angle to keep my gaze on his face. I needed that connection to him. With his hands still on my ass and his arm now supporting my weight, I rolled a bit to the side so he wouldn’t lose his view of my hand working my cock.

Turning toward me, Spencer’s breath mingled with mine as he continued his tale. “I skip over the edge—much to your short-lived relief—and cup your cock. You’re hard. Are you enjoying this as much as I am? How exciting. Bending over your stretched-out body, I don’t stop until my nose touches yours. Can you feel my cock against your stomach? I grind my hips down in case you’ve missed it. Without saying a word, I grab your face with one hand and force you to meet my gaze as my other hand slips between our bodies, under the thin protection of your shorts, and wraps around your shaft. Faster, Turner,” he ordered, slipping out of his role to direct my efforts.

Obeying, I tugged at my cock and whimpered against his neck. My body—once under my control—was his. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it up. Spencer’s words. His fingers. My hand. It was too perfect.

“You struggle against my hand, but there’s no real force behind it.” Spencer leaned in close and brushed his lips against mine, stifling the moans that tried to escape every time his finger teased in and out of my ass “I can tell you’re about to come.”

Nodding against his shoulder, I whimpered as I reached for my release. So close. It was there. I could feel it in the way the tingling in my lower belly spread along my spine, in the way my balls pulled tight and throbbed in time with the beating of my heart.

“Come for me, Turner,” Spencer whispered as he pulled back. “I want to see it. See how pretty you are.”

With a sharp gasp, my limbs tensed and shuddered. Pleasure and heat rode through me in waves as sticky warmth flowed over my fingers. Letting my satisfaction wash over me, I released my sensitive flesh and collapsed against Spencer’s chest. I was completely spent in a way I’d never been before.

I didn’t know how long I laid there, but when I finally lifted my head and looked around, I found Spencer laying back on the couch with my body sprawled across his. He was staring up at the ceiling, a look of smug pride on his face. One of his hands had slipped under my shirt and was slowly stroking my back.

Taking stock of myself, I could feel my shorts still around my knees and an awkward wet patch under my stomach. “I think I ruined your shirt,” I whispered.

His hand paused for a second, then returned to stroking me while his lips stretched into a wide grin. “Yep.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged in reply. “It was bound to happen. We didn’t exactly plan this out.”

“What are we going to do?” I placed my hands on his chest and lifted myself. I tried looking between us, but my shirt pillowed down and blocked my view. With a huff, I swatted the excess fabric out of the way and blushed at the dark stains splattered across the lower portion of his shirt.

“You can’t go out there like that,” I said as I dropped back down to hide the evidence of our encounter with my shirt. “People will know.”

He laughed, bouncing me with his stomach. “It’s nothing people around here haven’t seen before.”

“Still,” I said, feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction at the idea of my cum marking his body.

Closing his eyes and settling back down, Spencer sighed as he got comfortable once more. “I have an extra shirt in the locker room.”

“And how are you going to get it?”

“I’ll walk,” he explained patiently.

“Spencer!”

“Turner!” he said, mimicking my tone. “It’s fine. No one will care. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll just say I spilled my drink on myself if anyone asks.”

“No one will believe that,” I protested.

“And I don’t care,” Spencer replied. “Sex is messy. No one comes out the other side clean.”

I closed my eyes and groaned as another thought occurred to me. “Simon is going to know.”

“And?”

“And he’ll tease me.” I could already hear it.

“And what do you expect me to do about it?”

I pursed my lips and gave his question serious thought. I imagined Spencer following me around for the rest of my life, glaring at Simon every time he opened his mouth, but that was a bit much. “Never mind. I’ll just pinch him or something if he starts anything.”

Spencer lifted a brow and cracked his eyes open to look down at me. “You’ll pinch him? That doesn’t sound very nice.”

“He pinches me too,” I defended.

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“Yes it does.” I nodded to show him how serious I was. “It’s called revenge. Retaliation. An eye for an eye. A dish best served cold.”

Smiling, Spencer closed his eyes once more. “You’re a handful, Turner. And you’re surprisingly chipper for someone who just had one hell of an orgasm. Most men want to take a nap. I didn’t even do very much, and I want to take a nap.”

“I guess it’s just the way I am. Sometimes I’m sleepy, and sometimes I feel energized after… you know.” Biting my lip, I stared down at his chest as I twirled his shirt between my fingers. “Am I a handful you’d like to see again?”

Spencer’s hand slid down my back and stopped dangerously close to my exposed butt cheek. “Are you asking me out?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then I accept.” Spencer’s smile turned wicked. “So, where are you taking me?”

“What?” I propped myself up and stared down at him incredulously. “That’s not how this works.”

“It’s not?”

“No. You’re the one in charge. You decide what we do, and I get to have fun.”

“Oh.” Spencer nodded solemnly while still smiling. “Of course. I should have known.”

“Because I would have turned it into a whole thing. Apparently, I make bad decisions.” I rolled my eyes. “Apparently, taking a guy to a waterpark on a second date isn’t a good idea.”

After steadying me with his hands, Spencer shuffled back until he’d propped himself upon the arm of the couch. “A waterpark?”

“I thought it was a brilliant idea,” I defended. “I got in with my season pass, and that weekend I had a free ticket to bring a friend. Everything fell into place. It was perfect.”

“I take it your date didn’t have a good time?” Something about Spencer’s smile said he would have enjoyed it.

“Not at all. He refused to get in any water that would ruin his hair.” Pete had been such a party pooper. I’d been relieved when he’d thrown a fit and stormed off after I’d splashed him in the wave pool. Not wanting to play alone, I’d convinced Simon to join me. We’d spent the rest of the day having an absolute blast. Who needed guys like that anyway? Not me.

“And now I’m intrigued. I take it back,” Spencer said as he awkwardly sat up with my body still weighing his down. “You pick.”

“Are you sure?” I lifted a brow and eyed him skeptically. “Are you telling me there will be no complaining when you find yourself at an arcade bar or busting your ass at a skating rink?”

“No complaining,” he repeated. “And I think you’d be pleasantly surprised by my skating prowess. I practically lived at my local skating rink the summer before my senior year of high school.”

“Don’t tell me—there was a hot guy who worked there you wanted to impress.”

“Got it in one. His name was Carlos, and in my dreams, he was madly in love with me.”

“Did it work?” I asked, wanting to know if Spencer had always had a way with the lads.

“Not a chance. Unfortunately, he was my first straight crush. I thought he was interested —he kind of gave off gay vibes— but then I found him making out with some girl on his break. That ended those thoughts real quick.”

“Ouch.” We’d all been there at one point or another. There was nothing quite like unrequited love for a straight guy.

“I bet I can still skate circles around you,” he taunted.

I leaned back and arched a brow. “Is that a challenge? Because there’s a skating rink not too far from my house.”

“It’s your choice.” The smirk on Spencer’s face was pure challenge.

“Then it’s a date.” I leaned back all cocky-like. “Prepare to be dethroned.”

“Oh, there’s a throne now?” Spencer popped his collar like he was all that. “I’ll bring my crown.”

“You do that,” I said, crossing my arms. “It’ll be mine soon enough.”

We took a moment to stare each other down. Lips twitching, I was the first to crack. It started with a giggle, and then Spencer laughed with me, which only set me off even more. Bending over, I buried my face in his chest and held on as his body rolled with laughter.

“Stop, please,” I begged, my sides hurting. “Please.”

“Okay, okay.” He blew out a breath in an attempt to control himself. “I got this.”

Mimicking him, I closed my eyes and matched my breathing to his. “I don’t know why I thought that was so funny.”

Brushing his hand through my hair, Spencer tugged my face up and smiled. “When do you want to go skating?”

“Tomorrow night?” I cringed at how desperate I sounded. “Wait, that’s way too soon.”

“Nope, this is your date to decide. Tomorrow it is. How about I pick you up around six?” he asked. “That’ll give me enough time after work to go home and change.”

I barely stopped myself from bouncing in his lap in excitement. “It’s a date.”

“Text me your address later.”

“Okay,” I replied.

Spencer looked around the room. “We have a bit more time in here if you want to stay. I can even block out some more before people come looking. Or we can go back to the schoolroom.”

“I figured the painting would be over by now.”

Spencer snorted. “The paint party lasts all night. The first time they ran the event, some littles couldn’t come because of when it started, and some wanted to paint longer. Now they ration out the supplies, so no one is left out. With rocks, I think your limit is somewhere around eight or something.”

“Oh.” I wiggled in his lap and gave him a sheepish smile.

“You want to paint.” Sitting up, Spencer dropped me down on the couch.

“Yes,” I said, scrambling to pull up my shorts. “Please,” I added as an afterthought. It never hurt to have good manners.

“Alright, stay here,” he said over my giggles. “I’ll be right back to get you once I’ve chaged my shirt.”

I blushed at the white splotches on his stomach and buried my head in the couch. “I still can’t believe you’re going out there like that.”

“Stop worrying about it,” he said over his shoulder as he opened the door and stepped out.

“Nice shirt, Mr. S,” I heard someone say over the loud music as the door closed behind Spencer.

“Ugh, why me?” Lifting my hands to my cheeks, I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. And that was how Spencer found me when he returned not ten minutes later wearing a clean, navy blue t-shirt.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, sitting on the couch next to my curled-up body. “Turner?”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “I am not going out there.”

With a sigh, Spencer slipped an arm under my stomach and rolled me over. “And why not?”

“Because people saw!” I threw my hands out in true dramatic fashion. “Just leave me here.”

“Okay, I leave you here, and then what?”

“I die.” I huffed. “It’s inevitable.”

“Stop being a drama queen and come on,” he said with an indulgent chuckle as he pulled me upright by my arms. “You have rocks to paint.”

Shrugging off his grip, I lifted my hands and weighed my choices. “Paint rocks,” I said, lifting my left hand. “Endure everlasting embarrassment,” I said, raising my right. “Rocks. Embarrassment. Rocks. Embarrassment.” I stopped juggling my hands and met his gaze. “I choose death.”

Shaking his head, Spencer stood, grabbed my arm, and pulled me up with him as he stood. Spinning me around, he pushed me toward the door while slapping a hand against my ass. “You’re about to choose a spanking.”

I jumped and gasped as heat traveled up my spine. “You spanked me!” I said, placing a hand on my cheek and spinning around to confront him.

“And I’ll do it again.” Leaning into me, Spencer brushed a kiss across my lips. “Come on.”

Taking my hand in his, Spencer walked past me and tugged me along behind his confident stride. Stepping out of the door with him, I kept my eyes on the floor and braced myself for the comments. Except there were none. Tentatively looking up, I peeked around the hall and met the gaze of several people. Instead of leering and whispering, some people smiled and a few waved. Some people had knowing smirks, but they weren’t mean about it. If anything, I noticed more envious stares than not directed my way.

Tugging on Spencer’s arm until he slowed down, I lifted myself onto my toes to whisper in his ear. “Are you popular around here or something?”

Stopping, Spencer turned, slipped his arm around my waist, and dropped his lips to my ear. “Why do you ask?” he whispered back.

I scanned the people loitering in the hallway and noted the hungry looks directed toward Spencer’s back. “Oh, no reason. Just the crowd of people eyeing you like a fat, juicy steak. I feel like I need to tell them to get back with a stick or something.”

His breath warmed my neck as he laughed. “Are you jealous?”

“Do I have a reason to be?” I asked. Exclusivity wasn’t something we’d talked about yet. I was pretty sure I’d been clear about my intentions for the start, and Spencer had been clear about looking for something serious, but everyone knew what they said about assuming, and I refused to be an ass. I’d given up on one-night stands and fuck buddies years ago. I’d always found myself wasting energy on stopping myself from catching feelings, and the sex was never as good as with a steady partner. There was just so much more intimacy. Even with what we’d shared in the drawing room, I knew it would only get better with time.

“No,” he said without any qualifications. In front of everyone, Spencer pulled back, cupped my face, and stared down at me intently. “Turner, after everything I shared with you back there, do you honestly think I’d throw you away for someone else?”

Warmth bloomed in my chest but a hint of doubt poisoned the feeling. “No. I don’t know. Maybe? Now that you know a little can like—”

He silenced me with a kiss that was demanding and a little angry. “No,” he said, lifting his head. “I wanted you before I knew you were submissive or a little. I want you now. Period. More than I’ve wanted anyone in a long time.”

“But—”

“No,” he interrupted, his eyes staring into mine. “I want you. If you’re feeling down or insecure, ask me for some reassurance but don’t question that.”

“Okay,” I said quietly, sensing I’d touched an exposed nerve.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” I repeated, unsure of what else to say.

Sighing, Spencer stared down at me, indecision and regret evident in his gaze. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ve had some relationships fall apart because of insecurities, and I don’t want that to happen to us. Do you need some reassurance right now?”

Glad he was bringing it up, I lifted my hand and spaced my thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “A little.”

With a smirk that tried to recapture the ease we’d previously enjoyed, Spencer backed me up until I hit the wall behind me. “I can do that.”

With heat in his eyes once more, Spencer seductively brushed his lips back and forth over mine. Closing my eyes, I held on to him as he pushed his hard cock against my stomach.

“I’m still hard for you,” he whispered, his tongue slipping out to wet my lips. “I have been from the moment I saw you in the schoolroom.” He slipped his hand under my shirt to touch my bare skin. “Seeing you in this big t-shirt is driving me crazy. There’s just something about it that’s doing it for me. I don’t think I’ve ever had this particular kink, but I want to see you fresh out of the shower with nothing on but this shirt.”

“Spencer,” I moaned, his words doing their job and wiping away the doubt.

“Later,” he whispered, his lips dropping a quick kiss to the tip of my nose as he pulled away. “I have to return you to the schoolroom in one piece as I promised.”

“Remind me to kill Simon,” I said as I followed him on shaky legs. “Who demands promises like that?”

The trip back to the schoolroom was a blur, my mind still filled with the images Spencer had implanted. With a bit of help from him, I was back in my seat, my rock and green paint back in front of me. After a quick kiss to the side of my neck and a warning not to pinch Simon, Spencer left me and crossed the room to join a group that had assembled around a few couches set off to the side.

The only people I recognized were Carson and Ollie’s Daddy. I remembered Spencer telling me the man was his best friend, but I couldn’t think of his name.

Dominating a second couch sat a striking man with gray eyes, sharp features, and a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. By his side was a slim, black man wearing nothing but a pair of lace shorts, black boots, and copious amounts of gold body glitter. He had sprawled over the rest of the couch with his eyes closed, his feet dangling over the arm, and his head resting on the gray-eyed man’s lap. There was a third couch with a handsome man who looked like he needed a good nap and a woman who reminded me of an elementary school teacher. They both seemed nice enough, even though the lady had a bit of a pinched expression around her lips.

“Just talking, huh? Then why is he wearing a different shirt?” Simon teased as I watched Spencer sit on the arm of the couch next to Ollie’s Daddy and balanced using his feet on the arm next to the scary man. The scary man said something snarky to Spencer who responded in kind along with an extended middle finger.

“Shut up.” Turning back to the table, I stared down my pickle and let the events of the last hour finally catch up with me. Glancing in Spencer’s direction to make sure he was there and that everything had really happened, I caught his gaze and instantly read the worry in his eyes. Shaking my head before he could leave his friends and reassure me again, I focused on the table and grabbed my paintbrush.

“Turner, are you alright?” Ollie asked, breaking the silence that had descended over the table the longer I sat there without saying anything.

Lifting my head, I shrugged. Twisting in my chair, I stuck my arm out in front of Simon. “Pinch me.”

“Okay.” With a happy smile, Simon pinched my arm—hard.

“Oww.” I whipped my arm away from Simon and glared at him as I rubbed the aching spot. “I didn’t say that hard.”

He shrugged innocently. “You should have specified earlier.”

“Why you little—” I reached up to get my revenge.

“Turner?” Spencer said from across the room.

Freezing in place at the warning in Spencer’s tone, I whipped my head around to find him watching me with one brow arched in a look that promised payback if I pinched Simon in retaliation. “But he—and I—he—but…but...”

Simon laughed maniacally as he clapped his hands. “This is awesome! I take back everything bad I said and thought about Spencer.”

Turning around, I glared at my best friend. “What did you say about Spencer?”

“Nothing,” he replied, returning to his fake innocent act. “I took it back, therefore, I did not say it.”

“That’s not how that works,” I said, still glaring at him.

Scrambling out of his chair, Ollie raced around the table and plopped himself into the empty chair next to me. “Hi,” he said as he reached over the table and pulled his stuff over. “I’m Ollie. In case you forgot,” he added. “And I’ve known Spencer the longest.”

Red cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Ollie. “Excuse me?”

“Okay, Red has probably known him longer, but,” he said, lifting a finger, “my Daddy has been his best friend since forever, and I got here first.”

Red thought it over and sighed. “Fair.”

“So, is there anything you want to know?” Ollie asked.

“Umm…” I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I looked over at the group of people Spencer was hanging out with. “Who are all those people?”

“You know Carson,” he said, nodding toward the group. “Next to him is Marshall. He’s mine,” Ollie said with a possessive, dreamy voice. “Then there’s Spencer, and next to him is Nolan. He’s Marshall and Spencer’s other best friend from college. The three of them are like peas in a pod. N —or Quentin— is Nolan’s submissive,” he said, identifying the man whose neck Nolan was absently stroking. “The man on the next couch is Nate.”

“Mine,” Red said, claiming the handsome man wearing a t-shirt branded with the logo of a local paramedic company.

“Red’s Daddy,” Ollie continued. “And the woman is Miss Tasha. She’s new, but Carson is showing her the ropes.”

“I’m never going to be able to remember all those names,” I moaned.

“It’s fine. If you don’t remember, you can just ask. No one here will mind. And I know there’s a lot of us. I mean, our extended friend group includes a lot of people. Most of them aren’t here because they aren’t littles or Daddies.” Lifting his hands, Ollie stared at them as he started counting off people. “There’s Kyle and Kane,” he said, lifting a single finger as if the two men were a pair.

“Umm, Law and Lee,” he said triumphantly after a few seconds. “Huh, maybe us littles do dominate the group.”

Red shook his head. “No, you just forgot a lot of people.”

“Like who?” Ollie asked stubbornly.

“Samir? Danny? Chelsey? Niles? Billie? Max?” Red opened his mouth to continue, but Ollie cut him off.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Ollie said with his hand raised defensively. “You win. We know a lot of people.”

I looked at Simon with wide, confused eyes. It had been just the two of us for so long that I wasn’t sure what to do with such a large group of people effortlessly inviting us in.

“So, what else do you want to know?” Ollie asked, dipping his paintbrush in a giant pool of yellow paint.

Wanting to discover Spencer for myself, I shifted the conversation into neutral territory. “How did you meet Marshall?”

Ollie’s smile brightened exponentially as he lifted his brush and studied the paint slathered on the end. “It just so happened that I was out of paint….”