Mr Spencer (Mr. Book 2)

Oh hell. This is the worst timing ever. I exhale heavily.…. shit, what does he want?

“Tell him I’ll be a few minutes. I’m with a client,” I splutter.

“Okay.”

I hang up and stand in a rush. “Fucking hell, Sheridan.” I drag her from the floor by the arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

She smirks. “Pleasing my man. What does it look like?”

“I’m not your man, and you need to stop coming in here unannounced and touching me.”

She rolls her eyes. “Are you still going on with this nonsense?”

“Yes.” I grab her biceps. “Fucking listen to what I’m saying. This has to stop.” I gently push her away from my body. “Please,” I urge.

Her eyes search mine, and realisation sets in that I actually mean this. Her eyes fill with tears. “Spence,” she whispers.

My heart drops and I sigh. “Shez… don’t.”

“But you said it would always be us.”

“I know I did.”

“I love you,” she whispers through tears.

“What?” I frown. What the fuck… she did not just say that?

“For years, I’ve loved you, Spence.”

My eyebrows rise. “And you didn’t think to say something to me before now?”

“Because I didn’t want to lose you.” She shrugs. “But if you’re ready to settle down, I’ll move here, and we can try to make it work. Maybe you can have the house in the countryside and the two-point-four children… but with me.”

My shoulders slump, and I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “It’s not that easy.”

Tears fill her eyes even more, and damn, if it isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen. Sheridan is the toughest chick I know.

“Please,” she murmurs helplessly.

My heart constricts at the sight of her begging. “Shez.” I take her in my arms and hold her tight as her tears roll down her face. “Don’t be upset.” I kiss her temple. “I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

“Then give me a chance. We can try. I’ll move here. You know I can make you happy, Spence.”

I glance at the door. Edward is still out there. I completely forgot about him for a moment.

“Sheridan, my next appointment is here,” I whisper in a panic.

“Can I see you tonight?” she pleads.

“No.”

Her face scrunches up. “Ten years together, and you can’t even have dinner with me to talk about this?”

Fuck, I’m a selfish prick.

“Tomorrow night,” I whisper. “We’ll meet tomorrow night.” Right now, I just need her out of here. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.

She smiles, mollified for the moment. “Okay.” She leans in and kisses me softly on the lips, rubbing her fingers through my stubble. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

Fuck, why is nothing fucking easy? “Sure. Now I have to see my next appointment. Clean yourself up, you look like a mess.”

“Then stop upsetting me.” She huffs as she walks into the bathroom.

I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. Jesus fucking Christ, how do I get myself into this shit? I exhale heavily as she washes her face and redoes her makeup.

“Will you hurry?” I snap.

“Stop it,” she scolds me. “I’ll be ready to leave when I’m ready to leave and not a minute before.”

She reappears with her power suit firmly back in place, and I smile at the sight of her. “That’s better.”

She smiles bashfully. “What have you done to me, Spencer Jones?”

Sadness fills me. I do love Shez, just not in the way I love Charlotte. I don’t know how to make this right for her.

Ten years is a long time.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night?” She smiles hopefully.

I nod. “You will, speak tomorrow.”

She kisses me softly on the lips, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. There is a familiarity in her touch that comforts me. My eyes close with sadness because I know that this is our last embrace. As if sensing it, too, she squeezes me tight and we stay in each other’s arms for an extended moment. I pull back and cup her face in my hand, rubbing my thumb over her bottom lip.

“I do care for you, you know that, right?” I whisper.

Her eyes fill with tears anew. “But not love?”

“Baby, don’t…” I sigh.

She breaks from my arms and stares at the floor for a moment while she pulls herself together. I see her transform back to the power woman the world knows. She picks up her bag and heads for the door.

“Speak tomorrow,” I say.

Without another word, she leaves, and the door clicks shut behind her. I know I don’t have to worry about her saying anything to anyone or looking upset out there in reception. She would rather die than show any weakness. I hate that after ten years she just opened up to me and I kicked her out.

Such an asshole.

I press my eyeballs with my fingers and pace back and forth for a moment, trying to calm myself down.

Fuck, Edward is here and Sheridan loves me.

This is one fucked up day.

I go to the bathroom, wash my hands and face, and take a seat back at my desk as I prepare myself. Once ready, I press the intercom. “Send my next client in, please.”

The door opens and a man in a navy suit comes into view. He’s tall, dark, and good looking. Not what I was expecting at all. I thought he would be fair like Charlotte. Anyway, whatever.

I stand and hold my hand out. “Hello, I’m Spencer Jones.”

He shakes my hand. His grip is strong as he holds direct eye contact.

“Mr Jones,” he says flatly with a forced smile. “I’m Edward Prescott.”

I gesture to my desk. “Please, take a seat.”

He sits and I fall into my chair at the same time. I’m not exactly sure why he’s here. I asked the guards not to tell him yet. Have the images of our kiss been released already? No… because for him to get here so quickly, he would have had to leave Vegas or wherever he was yesterday. The flight is fourteen hours. I’m just going to keep quiet until I know what he’s doing.

“How can I help you?” I ask calmly.

“Do you know who I am?”

My eyes hold his. “Should I?”

He raises an eyebrow, sits back in his chair, and crosses his legs. He has a distinct air about him, although I can’t quite put my finger on exactly what that is.

Is he arrogant or entitled? Or perhaps just misunderstood.

“I understand you met my sister recently,” he says.

“And your sister is…?” I ask as I play along.

“Charlotte Prescott.”

I smile. “That I did.”

Our eyes are locked.

“Where did you meet?” he asks sharply.

“I’m sorry, why are you asking me questions about Charlotte?” I interrupt.

He smirks. “Let’s stop fucking around and get straight to the point, shall we? I have reason to believe that you are sniffing around my sister.”

I chuckle. “I’m not sure what kind of dog you’re used to, but I can assure you I don’t sniff around.”

“That’s not what my friend Alexander York told me. You were kissing her hand and didn’t take your eyes off her all night long at a recent charity ball.”

Ah, he’s here because Alex told him about us. What else does he know?

“I wouldn’t be throwing the name Alexander York around and connecting him as a friend, if I were you?”

He glares at me.

“I think you and I both know what his character is like,” I add. “A reference of any sort from him doesn’t mean much.”

He raises an eyebrow in a silent dare. “No, why don’t you tell me?”

“The man’s a snake and there is no love lost between us.” I stand from my chair and walk over to the window, placing my hands into my trouser pockets before I turn back to him. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“Alexander is not my concern, Mr Jones.”

“Please, call me Spencer.”

“Spencer.” He nods once.

“What exactly is your concern?” I ask. “Why are you here?”

“Charlotte.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And why is she a concern to you?”

“She is not the kind of woman you are… accustomed to.”

I smile. “Is that what York told you? Ah, he said that I’m a scandalous rake and that I can’t be trusted anywhere near your sister, didn’t he?”

We glare at each other for a moment.

“Have you contacted her since you met?” he asks me boldly.

I smile. The fucking nerve of this guy.

“Let me tell you this, Mr Prescott.” I exhale heavily. “If I were to contact Charlotte at any point, it is none of your damn business, only mine and hers.”

“The hell it isn’t my business.” He jumps up from his seat and moves to stand in front of me. “My job is to protect her from men like you.”

“I thought your job as her brother would be to love her?”

He raises his chin in defiance, unimpressed with that hidden accusation I planted there. “I protect her from everything. Sleazy arseholes like you being one of the more specific threats.”

“Is that what you think I am?”

He steps forward until our faces are close. “Stay away from my sister, Mr Jones.”

I glare at him. “Or what?”

“Or you’ll deal with me.”

“Do you really think that you could keep me away from her, if she was truly who I wanted?”

“Is she?”

I smirk. “I will not discuss my intentions with you, but I will say that you underestimate her greatly. She is intelligent and old enough to make her own decisions.”

“She is not accustomed to men like you.”

“And what kind of man would you have her go out with?” I fire back. “Alexander York, perhaps?” I smirk. “I’m quite sure he would love to be a part of the Prescott family.”

His face falls before he quickly masks it. “Don’t be ridiculous, he’s a friend to her.”

“Does he know that?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. “Have you seen him with her?”

The best form of defence is attack. I’m going to throw him off the scent.

“Maybe you should ask Charlotte about Charlotte and stop jumping to ridiculous assumptions. Have you really driven all the way from Manchester to London, just to see me?”

Satisfaction flashes across his face, and that’s when I know he’s just fallen for my fake ignorance of his family. If I knew her well—which he doesn’t need to know I do… not yet—I would know Manchester isn’t where they live, or where he has just travelled thousands of miles from.

“I was in town doing business,” he lies.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr Prescott.”

His eyes hold mine and we glare at each other.

“I don’t want to have this conversation again. Stay away from Charlotte. Do I make myself clear?”

I smile broadly. I would just love to throw it in his face right now for being such a conceited prick, but I won’t. I won’t… for Charlotte’s sake. Edward doesn’t respect her, but I do.

“Perhaps next time we meet, you will be a touch more well-mannered, Mr Prescott.” That’s the only answer I give him. “Or at least have some idea what you are talking about. I don’t have time for childish, half-thought out assumptions. I’m a very busy man.”

His eyes blaze with anger, and he steps forward so his face is only millimetres from mine. “I don’t like you.”

Our eyes are locked.

“You don’t have to.” I smirk. “Now get out.”

We stand toe-to-toe as fury boils between us. Eventually, he turns and leaves without another word. The door clicks closed, and I inhale a deep breath as I drop into my chair.

Fucking hell, this really is going to be World War Three.

Charlotte

I push the heavy mail cart though the office. “Lottie!” Scott calls as he leans back on his chair.

“Yes?” Scott is the cheeky man from level six. He’s good looking, and so, so much fun.

“Are we on for tonight?” he teases with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

I hand him the wad of mail for his department. “No, we’re not on for tonight. I tell you that every day.”

He winces and tips his head back to the Heavens. “Oh, come on, you don’t know what you are missing out on. I’m every woman’s dream, you know?”

I chuckle and keep pushing my trolley.

“Call me!” he cries out in a girl’s voice. I smile as I walk along and continue handing out the mail. Who knew that this shitty job could make me so happy? I look up ahead and see Sarah swinging on a chair as she talks to three girls. She glances over at me.

“This cart is heavy, you know…” I huff.

She ends her conversation and skips over. “Oh, I was just getting the gossip. Apparently Tiffany broke up with Zane because she caught him having sex with Brittany from level two. They were doing it in her car in the basement car park.”

I wince. “Oh shit.”

“But apparently Tiffany gave Darren a blowie the other night in his car when he drove her home, and that’s why he fucked Brittany. It was his payback.”

My mouth falls open. “Who told you that?”

“Darren told Paul, Paul told me, and I just told them.”

“God, it’s so sleazy. Who gives other guys blowies when they have a boyfriend?”

“I know.” She takes the cart for me. “I told you, this place is Hot Dick City, and every woman is here for herself. Women can’t control themselves.”

I giggle as I walk beside her. “Have you ever given anyone here a blowie?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “Last year at the Christmas party I had a threesome in one of the offices on level eleven.”

My mouth falls open. “Sarah,” I gasp. “What the hell?”

“I know, right?” She shrugs. “Weirdest night of my life. It was like the twilight zone, and it was totally shit.”

“Why?” I frown. I’ve been watching this stuff on YouPorn and it looks anything but shit.

“Frigging hell, there was just too much going on, you know? One minute I’m riding, then I had a dick getting shoved down my throat at the same time. Then the other one is flipping me around and doing me doggy, while the other one is pulling my hair so I can suck his dick just how he wants it. I couldn’t concentrate on any one task enough to do a good job of it.”

I burst out laughing, imagining her getting flipped around like a ragdoll while trying hard to concentrate.

“Honestly, threesomes are like some kind of Olympic pentathlon except you have to do all the events at the same time. Good in theory.” She puffs air into her cheeks and shakes her head. “Not so much in practice.”

I put my hands over my face and laugh. I’m never going to think of Olympic pentathlons the same ever again. I love this girl, but a sadness fills me. I’m going to miss her when I leave.

Maybe she could come with me?

Enjoy every day while I can.

My phone rings in my pocket and I take it out, the name Spence lights up the screen.

“I’m just going to take this,” I whisper.

“Sure thing.” She continues pushing the cart.

I step into the stairwell. “Hello.”

“Angel.” His deep voice purrs, and a broad smile crosses my face. Even his voice makes me giddy.

“How are you?” I ask dreamily.

“Missing my girl.”

“Well, you get to see her in…” I glance at my watch, “approximately five hours.”

“I’m counting the minutes.”

I swoon. He’s so gorgeous.

“I’m calling to give you my address.”

“Oh.” I bunch my shoulders together in excitement. “That’s right, we’re having a sleepover at your house tonight.”

“We are,” he purrs. “What time will you be here?”

“I’ll finish at five and go back to grab my stuff, and then I’ll be over.”

“Bring a few days clothes.”

I smile. “Is this an extended sleepover?”

“Mmmhmm, it is. Don’t shower before you come.”

“Why not?” I frown.

“Because that’s fifteen more minutes that I don’t get to see you. Besides, I like to wash you.”

My heart sings in my chest. He does love to wash me. I’ve never felt so adored in all of my life.

“Okay,” I whisper. I’ve told him I love him a few times, and he hasn’t said it back yet, not since that first time he said it when we were arguing about Sheridan. I’m trying not to be needy.

“Goodbye, Spence,” I say.

“Where’s my I love you?” he asks.

Relief hits me. “I love you.” I smile.

He inhales sharply. “And now my day is complete. See you tonight, angel.” He hangs up and I frown. I stare at the phone in my hand for a moment. Why does he notice when I don’t say it to him, but then he never says it back to me?

Men.

Well, that’s it, I’m not saying it again until he does. I walk back into the office to find Sarah laughing out loud with a group of girls and I find myself smiling broadly. Who’s slept with who now?

I’m sitting in the back of the Mercedes wagon that Wyatt is driving. Anthony is sitting in the passenger seat beside him, texting Spencer to let him know we will be arriving in a few minutes. It turns out that Spencer has called them about the details of where they will be staying tonight, too. The two of them have overnight bags with them as well. It seems surreal that he looks after the boys as if they’re his own staff. If I’m being honest, he seems more caring about their welfare than Edward has ever been. I’m usually the only one who worries about them.

“Where is it exactly?” I ask, craning my neck to look up the street.

“Just up here around the corner.”

“Do we have a key?”

“Spencer is meeting us in the foyer. He has to take us up.”

“Okay.” I look out the window at the bustling streets as we drive. It all feels so surreal, that I’m with him and he’s with me when only a month ago I was completely alone and still a virgin. What a difference a month can make. Finally, we get to a tall, swanky looking building.

“This is it,” Anthony says as we pull in.

Wow, this looks nice.

Wyatt parks the car, and Spencer walks out through the large double front doors. His face lights up when he sees me. I have to stop myself from running and throwing myself into his arms.

“Hello, angel.” He smiles.

“Hi,” I beam. I hate that I can’t touch him in public yet.

“Hey, guys,” he says to the boys as he takes my bag from me.

“Hello, Spencer,” they say as they walk behind us.

We walk through a marble reception with a concierge and two doormen, making our way over and into the elevator. The door closes and Spencer immediately takes my hand in his and smiles. His eyes stay fixed on the back of the closed door.

I love that he’s so touchy with me.

The doors open on level two and he strides out with purpose.

“This way.” We walk down a corridor until Spencer stops and opens a door, handing Wyatt the keys. “This is your apartment. It has three bedrooms and everything you should need while you’re here. I sublet it. It’s one of the other resident’s staff members, but they’re out of the country for a few months,” Spencer tells them both.

Wyatt and Anthony walk in and look around.

“It’s nice.” I smile.

The boys smile, seemingly impressed with their new hangout.

“Everything is still the same. Once Charlotte and I are in for the night, you’re off duty but you should continue to be with her when she is out and about please.”

“Of course,” Anthony replies.

“Would you like to come up and go through my apartment?” he asks them.

“Please,” Wyatt says.

Spencer takes my hand again and strides back down the corridor to the elevator that’s still waiting. We ride in silence to the fifteenth floor.

We arrive at two huge black double doors. Spencer swipes his key and they click open. When he reveals his room to me, my heart catches in my throat.

Holy cow!

I look up at a mezzanine level that hangs over the main living space and I smile to myself.

The room I’m in has polished concrete floors, with a beautiful pale timber ceiling. It looks like something out of a trendy home magazine. Perhaps a ski lodge in Aspen.

“This is your house?” I ask.

He winks at me.

Wyatt and Anthony look around, back at each other, and then back to Spencer as if shocked.

“What?” Spencer smirks. “Not what you were expecting?”

“You’re rich, too?” Wyatt frowns.

Spencer smiles. “I do all right for myself.”

I bite my bottom lip to hide my stupid smile.

Spencer walks through the apartment. “I’ll give you the tour.” He holds his hand out as he walks past us. “This is the kitchen.” He points to a stainless-steel kitchen with a huge timber island bench sitting in the middle. He then points to the glass wall. “City of London, obviously.” We all peer out to see an expansive view of London before us.

Wyatt rolls his eyes, as if completely unimpressed.

Spencer chuckles. “I do love showing off my house, I have to admit.”

“Couldn’t tell,” Wyatt mutters dryly while Anthony and I giggle.

“This is the dining room.” There’s a large, rustic, oval dining table that seats ten around it. There are differently upholstered chairs there, all of which kind of match but don’t really. “Living room.” That’s a huge living area with chocolate, slouchy leather couches and a big gas fireplace sitting in the middle.

Wow.

“This is the guest bedroom.” He points to it as we walk into the hallway, and I stop in my tracks.

“Oh my God,” I gasp.

The whole length of the hallway is lined with black bookshelves filled with thousands of books. It’s a lot wider than a normal hallway, and it gives off the feel of a library. It even has one of those rails with a ladder going up to the top shelves.

“You do read?” I ask in surprise.

He smirks over his shoulder, grabbing my hand to lead me along. “I told you I did. I don’t lie, Lady Charlotte,” he teases. “My office.” He continues with the tour, and I peer inside to see an office with a large mahogany desk facing the door, a big high-back, black leather office chair sitting behind it.

“Laundry, gymnasium,” he says as he points to several rooms we walk by.

I peer in and see a large room with a treadmill, rowing machine and weights. A television is mounted on the wall.

I can hardly wipe the goofy smile from my face. I thought my hotel room was nice.

It has nothing on this place.

“Upstairs.” Spencer gestures as he continues to play tour guide. We all peer up to see a floating staircase that hangs out of the wall. The bannister is nothing more than a sheet of glass.

“This place is beautiful, Spence,” I tell him.

He smiles proudly and looks around. “I do love it.”

We all follow him up the stairs. “Spare rooms, bathrooms, and then at the end is my bedroom.”

We get to his room and I smile so wide that my face nearly splits in two. It’s a huge white bedroom with all different textured fabrics. There’s a king bed covered in white linen, white wingback chairs, a black and white charcoal artwork piece on the wall. The floors are a herringbone timber, too.

“Look around as much as you wish,” he says to the boys.

They walk past him and open the walk-in wardrobe doors, and then they go into the bathroom, leaving me to wrap my arms around Spencer’s waist and smile up at him.

“I like your house,” I beam.

He kisses me softly. “I like you.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Wyatt roll his eyes at Anthony, and I giggle. What must they think?

“Let yourself out, boys, we won’t be needing you again tonight.”

“Okay,” Anthony says before they disappear out of the door. “See you in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Spencer calls.

I would love to be a fly on the wall to see what they say when they’re in private.

“Alone at last.” Spencer smiles down at me before kissing me softly. His lips linger over mine and his tongue sweeps through my open mouth with just the right amount of force.

Dominant, caring… the man is as hot as hell.

“Well, Mr Jones.” I look around his room. “I did not expect this.”

“Expect what?”

“A house that looks like a Vogue home living shoot. You are full of surprises.”

“I’m design skyscrapers, what did you expect?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“I designed this building.”

My eyes widen. “You did?”

“Yes, and this apartment was always going to be mine.” His hands run down over my behind. “Just like you were.”

I frown up at him in question.

“You were always going to be mine, Charlotte.”

I giggle against his lips and I walk him backwards towards the bed until he stops me. “Not yet. I’m starving, woman.”

“Party pooper. What are we eating?”

“I’m cheating. I had my housekeeper pick up some Indian food for us. It’s in the fridge.”

“Sounds perfect.” He leads me back down the stairs and out into the kitchen, sitting me at one of the bench stools.

“Red or white?” he asks.

“White, please.”

I watch as he pours our wine and then hands me mine. We clink our glasses together and we smile stupidly at one other. “I like having you here,” he says.

“I like being here.” I reach up and drag him to me. We kiss and my eyes close to absorb every second of it. I really am pathetic when I’m around him.

He pulls out of our kiss. “Stop distracting me, I’m about to pass out from lack of sustenance. Do not kiss me again unless you have a defibrillator in your possession.”

I giggle. “Always so dramatic.”

He takes the Indian food out of the refrigerator and grabs a few saucepans.

“Why don’t you just microwave it?” I frown.

“You must be kidding. Have you ever had reheated Indian food that way?” He frowns.

“Many times.”

He rolls his eyes. “And here I was all this time thinking you were cultured.”

I giggle against my wineglass and watch on as he pours the food into the three saucepans.

“Have you thought about where you are going to live when you move to London?” he asks.

I shrug. “Not really. I guess I’ll have to start thinking soon, though.” I watch him for a moment. “What are your thoughts?”

He continues stirring. “I have a few.” He sips his wine. “The Spencer Jones in me wants you to get your own kickass apartment and decorate it however you want. To have your own things and come and go as you please.”

I smile and wait for him to go on.

“He wants you to gain your independence and live life without the restraints from your family.” He thinks for a moment. “I mean you should. That’s what you should do. That’s the smart thing to do.”

It’s clear he has something else on his mind, though. “And what do you want?” I ask.

His eyes find mine.

“That’s what Spencer Jones wants me to do,” I say. “What do you want me to do?” I ask. “The selfish little boy inside of you… what does he want?”

“Well…….” He pauses, his eyes hold mine as he decides whether to share. “The selfish little boy in me can’t stand the thought of spending even one night without you, and he wants you to move in here.”