Mr Spencer (Mr. Book 2)

Fourteen hours earleir

I look up at the board and I read the dreaded words.

Flight delayed.

“No.” I turn to Anthony. “It’s delayed.”

“Fuck.”

“Find us another flight, please,” I say as I begin to panic. “Why did I send that damn letter with Wyatt?” I whisper angrily. “What on earth was I thinking?”

“Please try and call Wyatt again. He can’t deliver it. He just can’t.”

“He’s in the air, he has no service.” Anthony shakes his head, silently saying I told you this ten times already before he disappears to the front desk to try and organise flights.

I drop to my seat with my head in my hands. I get a vision of my beautiful Spencer alone on his birthday waiting for me.

Why the hell did I take so long to get my shit together?

What the hell is wrong with me?

I don’t have my phone because I threw my SIM in the water during my delusional tantrum. Anthony’s phone isn’t working here as we are in another country, so I can only call Spencer from a payphone.

I’ve been trying for an hour but he’s not picking up. Presumably because he doesn’t know the number.

Anthony reappears, his face solemn.

“Any luck?” I ask.

“I can get us on a flight in another hour and a half.”

“Oh, great, do that.”

“But it has another stopover, so it will actually get us to Santorini later than the original one.”

“Oh my God. I’ve ruined everything,” I whisper in a panic. “It’s his birthday today.”

“It’s only early morning there. We’ll make it.”

“We won’t get there in time. You know we won’t.”

Anthony exhales heavily, and I know that’s his way of agreeing with me.

“Call my father. Send the jet. I need his plane urgently.”

“By the time it fuels up and gets here, the flight we’re on will be quicker.”

“Why the hell are they delaying all the flights?”

He puts his arm around me. “Just calm down. We have three hours until we board and then a fourteen-hour flight. You’ll have a heart attack before you get there at this rate.”

“This is a nightmare. No wonder people complain about flying commercial. I had no idea the delays were so bad.”

He smirks as he watches the flight board, and I know I just sounded like a complete spoiled brat. “I think you need a drink.” He sighs.

“No, what I need is to try and call Spencer again.” I march over to the public phones and get in line. This is all my fault.

Please pick up the phone, Spence. Please pick up.

Nineteen hours later

The cab pulls into the driveway, and a heavy sense of dread rests on my shoulders as I stare at the darkened villa.

I missed his birthday. Wyatt was still in the air when we boarded, so I couldn’t tell him not to give him the letter. When I wrote it and sent Wyatt before Sheridan came to me, I thought I was doing the right thing by setting him free—giving him closure to start the New Year fresh.

In hindsight, I was just so hurt at his past that I couldn’t think clearly, and I will never forgive myself for putting him through that.

I squeeze Anthony’s hand. “Wish me luck,” I whisper.

He gives me a lopsided smile. “Good luck.”

We get out of the car and I walk up to the front door. I turn the handle and realise it’s open. He’s here.

“Stay out here, please,” I whisper.

“I don’t thi—”

“Stay here,” I cut him off.

I walk through the villa. The small lamps are on, but the main lights are off. It’s just as I remembered it, only a lot sadder this time. He must be asleep. I walk into the bedroom but the bed is empty, still made. He hasn’t been to bed yet but his bags and things are here. I check the other bedrooms and then walk out into the living area.

He’s on the balcony. My heart begins to race as I make my way out there. It’s 4:40 a.m. local time, and the sky is just starting to brighten.

It’s eerily quiet. The fire pit has glowing red embers as the last of the fire dies out, and a bottle of scotch is empty on the table.

Spencer’s not here.

I walk over to the balcony rail and look down at the view over the cliff. All I can see is darkness as the sea breeze whips my hair around. For a long time, I stand and peer over the cliff.

I get a vision of him spending his birthday alone, and my heart hurts.

Wyatt.

I hope he’s with Wyatt. Yes. My hope returns. Hopefully Wyatt and him went out.

I hope they painted the town red.

I’m exhausted, so maybe I’ll just go to bed. He’ll be back soon, I try to comfort myself.

Yes, shower and bed.

I turn to walk inside, and I stop dead in my tracks.

Spencer is sitting in the dark up against the wall, his cold eyes fixed firmly on me.

He has a glass of scotch in his hand.

“Spence,” I whisper.

He glares at me as he sips his drink.

“Spencer.” I smile hopefully. “I’m here, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Get out.” He sneers.

My face falls. “What?”

“I said get the fuck out.” His voice is gravely and distorted. He’s really drunk.

I step back, affronted by his tone. “I understand why you’re angry,” I whisper through tears.

He sips his drink, the look on his face murderous.

“Spence, we can work through this,” I whisper.

He sips his drink again but remains silent.

“I love you.”

“Don’t!” he snaps. “Don’t. Don’t you dare fucking say that to me.”

“It’s true.”

He steps forward and leans in so that his face is only an inch away from mine.

“Get out of my fucking face,” he growls.

Fear runs through me. I’ve never seen him like this.

“Spencer.”

“Get out!” he screams at the top of his voice.

My eyes fill with tears.

I go to wrap my arms around him, but he pulls away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He throws his glass at the wall and it smashes into a thousand pieces.

I put my hands on my head in shock.

From my peripheral vision, I see Anthony sneaking around inside, watching… waiting to see what happens. Spencer is too drunk and way too furious.

“When you’re feeling better, we need to talk please,” I whisper through tears.

“I’ve got nothing to fucking say to you.” He storms inside and trips on the step, nearly falling over. Thankfully, he doesn’t see Anthony, and he disappears into his bedroom. The door slams hard.

I close my eyes as my heart races wildly.

What the hell was that?

Adrenaline is coursing through my body and Anthony comes out. “You can go,” I tell him, embarrassed by what he just saw.

“I’m not leaving you here with him in that state.”

I sit down at the fire pit and stare at the red embers. The sun is coming over the horizon now. I pick up a blanket and wrap it around me. It’s cold and chilly… just like my welcome.

How hurt must he be to be acting like that? That is as far from his personality as he could possibly be.

What have I done?

For half an hour, I stare at the fire, my mind in overdrive. Eventually, as exhaustion begins to take over, I can’t fight my eyelids any longer. I go inside to the bedroom to find Spencer naked and fast asleep on his back.

I walk back out to Anthony who is on the sofa. “He’s asleep. You can go sleep in the spare room at the end of the hall. I’ll sleep in the other one.”

“You sure?” He frowns.

I nod and take his hand. “Thank you for looking after me so well.”

He smiles sadly and then smirks as if remembering something. “Where the fuck is Wyatt?”

“Hopefully he’s having more fun than we are.”

He chuckles. “This is one fucked up New Year’s Eve.”

I smile. “Right?”

He gets up and walks in to check on Spencer before he walks around and locks everything up.

“Goodnight, Charlotte,” he says.

“Goodnight.” I sit for a long time and watch the sun slowly rise through the windows. It’s like the world has gone into slow motion, and I know more than anything that I need to make this right. I walk into Spencer’s bedroom and take a long hot shower. Once clean and naked, I crawl into bed beside him.

He smells like he’s tipped a bottle of scotch over his body. I could get drunk from the fumes alone, but I don’t care. I wrap my arm around him and put my head on his shoulder, throwing my top leg over his. I gently kiss his chest, and with the familiarity of his warm body up against mine, I drift into an exhausted slumber.

I wake to the light beaming through the window. My eyes flutter to fight against it.

Spencer is still fast asleep, flat on his back, and I roll onto my side to watch him.

His large arms are up behind his head. My eyes drop down over his broad chest and rippled stomach, and then lower down over the well-kept pubic hair onto my favourite body part of his.

His cock is standing to attention up against his stomach. It’s big, beautiful, and ready to fuck. I smile at the sight of it. Even in deep sleep he is the perfect specimen.

Unable to help it, I kiss his chest, and then his bicep as my fingers trail down his abdomen and keep moving lower. I feel my arousal creep in as my fingers run through his pubic hair.

God, he’s beautiful. I’ve missed him so much.

My fingers wrap around his thick length, and his lips part as he sleeps. “Oh, I could make you feel so good, baby,” I whisper to myself.

I stroke him, and he inhales and spreads his legs as if granting me permission. I stroke him again and pre-ejaculate beads on the end of his head. “Do you need me, baby?” I murmur against his chest. “Because I need you.”

His legs spread wider and I begin to feel my pulse between my own legs. It’s been a long time since we touched each other. I felt like a part of me was missing. I slowly kiss down his abdomen and over his hip bones. I kiss his cock, and it flexes under my lips. I smile as I lick up the thick length of it.

He moans as he stirs, his knees parting and falling to the mattress.

Oh, I need him. I know he’s angry with me, but what a great way to make up. I take him into my mouth and my tongue swirls around the tip. He inhales sharply in his sleep, and I smile around him.

“You like that, baby?” I take him deeper and deeper, building a rhythm, and my mouth becomes flooded with pre-ejaculate.

I begin to lose control and take him deeper, when he suddenly jumps awake with a start.

His eyes meet mine and I stop what I’m doing, waiting for his reaction.

Is he going to push me away?

I smile softly around his cock, and he clenches his jaw as he watches me, his hands still above his head.

Okay, he didn’t push me away. I’ll keep going. I take him deeper, and my hand begins to stroke him as it follows my lips.

He inhales sharply, and I can tell he’s close. I can feel his cock quivering under my tongue.

“I missed you,” I whisper around him.

His dark eyes hold mine. I begin to flick my tongue over the end of him, something I know forces him to either come or fuck. He has nowhere to go when I do this. He can’t hide.

His body convulses. He grabs two handfuls of my hair to hold me in place and he begins to fuck my mouth with deep pumps. I gag at how rough he’s being and pull off him. Saliva streams from my lips to his cock.

“Fuck.” He moans at the sight of it. “Fucking hell.”

Before I know what’s happening, he flips me and has me pinned to my back, my legs spread wide.

His dark eyes hold mine as he slides in deep with one hard thrust.

My body convulses, and he pulls out only to slam back into me even harder. “Ouch, Spence,” I whisper. “Be careful.”

He flips me onto my knees. “Famous last words,” he growls as he slaps me hard on the behind and slams in deep, driving me into the mattress.

Oh shit!

He has a handful of my hair in one hand, while the other is holding my shoulder as he slams my body back onto his.

I can feel him so deep inside of me, and he’s so thick. He’s getting faster and faster, and, oh God, I can’t deal with how rough he’s being. But damn, I need this. The sound of our skin slapping together is echoing around the room.

“Spence,” I moan as the air is knocked from me. “Oh God.”

He grabs my shoulder and pushes me down to the mattress. His cock reaches a new, deeper place. A guttural moan leaves my body, and he slaps me on the behind again.

“Take it.” He hisses. “Take it.”

I clench and scream into the pillow as I see stars, my body thumping as an orgasm tears through me. He keeps working me at such a fast pace. I can only grip the sheets beneath me and feel the stretching burn of his possession. He holds himself deep and throws his head back, and I feel the jerk of his cock deep inside of me.

But instead of the tender strokes he usually empties himself with, this time is different. He continues to fuck me hard, banging pumps, as if my body is only a tool that he’s using to empty his pleasure into.

There is no emotion in his touch.

It’s as cold as ice.

With each hit, my tears form. This is foreign to me—so different to how we usually make love.

It’s like he’s a stranger.

He slaps me on the behind once more, and then he pulls out. Without a word, he gets up and walks into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

I lie in shock, my body still quivering from the orgasm I just had. My breathing is ragged as I gasp for air.

Dear God, what the hell was that?

I roll over onto my back and stare at the ceiling through my blurred vision.

Fuck this.

I get up and storm into the bathroom. He’s in the shower, soaping up.

“What the hell was that?” I demand.

He glares at me. “I’d like to fucking know, too.”

I scowl in confusion. “What do you mean? You just fucked me like you don’t even know me.”

“That’s because I don’t fucking know you.”

My face falls. “Spence.”

“You’re too late,” he barks, and my heart drops. He’s so hurt.

“Baby.” I step under the water and wrap my arms around him. “I love you. I’m so sorry. I had to work this out by myself, and it took longer than I thought it would. I couldn’t get a flight, and then I spent all day calling you. Why didn’t you answer your damn phone?” I blurt out.

He stands rigid, his hands down by his sides.

My eyes search his and I cup his cheeks. “Can we talk and work this out together?”

“The time for talking was last week, Charlotte. You’ve put me though fucking Hell.”

“I know,” I whisper. “I’ve been to Hell and back myself.”

He gets out of the shower in a rush. “I don’t want to fucking see you.”

“Don’t say that,” I plead as I reach for him. “I missed you.”

He stares at me.

I stand on my tiptoes and softly kiss his lips. I take his arms and wrap them around me. “I love you, Spencer Jones. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”

“How could you do this to me?” he asks quietly, his voice breaking. “I didn’t know she was married. I swore that to you.”

“I know.” My eyes fill with tears. “You have no idea how hard this has been on me, Spence. I’m so devastated at how things turned out.”

“You think I fucking liked it?” he cries.

“I know that, too. I don’t know how to get over this, but I do know that I can’t live without you. I tried and I couldn’t.”

He stares at me.

“Let me stay, spend the week with you, and we will try and…” I pause as I articulate my feelings. “We’ll try and work through this together.”

“No.”

“No pressure to get back together. I just need time with you,” I plead, and I try to pull us back under the water.

He frowns, as if remembering something.

“What?” I ask.

“I think I threw your engagement ring over the cliff.”

“What?” I frown. “You had an engagement ring?” My heart freefalls from my chest as I imagine him waiting with it and my eyes fill with tears. “Oh my God, Spence, I’ve ruined everything.”

“Yes. You did. In spectacular fashion.”

I feel a tiny bit of his resistance begin to cave, and I lean up and kiss him softly. Our lips linger over each other’s and my tongue gently slips through his open mouth.

“I love you so much,” I breathe.

Our kiss deepens, and I feel the emotion run back through us like a lifeline.

“Spence.” The bathroom door opens, and Julian comes into view. His face falls when he sees me.

“What the fuck, Masters?” Spence yells.

“Oh, shit.” He turns his back immediately, although too late. He’s already seen everything. “Sorry.” He winces. “I thought you were alone.” He hunches his shoulders as if excited. “Hi, Charlotte.”

I smile as I look up at my beautiful man and cup his face. “Hi, Jules.”

“I was just coming to see if you… well, both of you now, wanted to come to the beach. But I can see you’re busy.”

Spencer’s eyes hold mine. “We’ll meet you there.”

I can’t stop kissing him, even though Julian is still in the room.

“Although Charlotte may be in a body bag by the time I’ve finished with her,” Spencer adds dryly.

Julian chuckles. “Okay, well, just make sure that her bodyguards don’t see you kill her. I’m not sure I could get you off that one, and you’re way too pretty to go to prison.”

I smile softly, and in that moment, I know it’s going to be okay.

We are going to make it through this together. His friends, my friends, and our families combined will make it work… whatever it takes.

“See you later,” Julian says as he walks out.

I frown, confused. “Where’s Julian staying?”

“He, Bree, and the kids are three doors up, and Seb is in town. They wouldn’t let me come alone in case you didn’t show up.”

“Why weren’t they with you yesterday?”

“I wanted to be alone. I was waiting for you.”

I stare up at the beautiful man in front of me. “Can you ask me to marry you now?”

“No.” He kisses my lips.

My face falls, and I think for a moment. “Fine. Then Spencer Jones… will you marry me?”

“Again, no.”

“Spencer,” I whine. “You’re supposed to say yes.”

“And you were supposed to stay by my side when things got rough.”

My heart drops. I hate that I let him down.

“I will now. I promise.” I pause and smile. “Do you know what this is, Spence? It’s a new beginning for us.”

He exhales heavily and hangs his head. “The last two weeks…” His voice trails off.

I stare into his big blue eyes, and the hurt in them breaks my heart wide open. “Baby,” I whisper. He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight. We stay in each other’s arms for a long time and it’s like the longer our bodies touch skin to skin, the more I can feel the emotions run between us.

“Let’s go back to bed,” I suggest quietly.

He nods, and we step out of the shower. I dry us both off, and then he leads us into the bedroom. I lie down beside him.

“I love you, Spence.”

His eyes close as if hearing me say that pains him, and then he kisses me. He really kisses me with his heart on his sleeve and without holding back.

It’s long and slow and deep and everything I’ve missed about us.

He rises above me and slowly slides in deep. Our mouths fall open in the overwhelming pleasure of each other’s bodies. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him.

“I love you.”

His eyes search mine.

“Spence…?”

“I love you too, angel.”

Our lips crash and we cling to each other as tight as we can as we try desperately to banish the fear of losing one another ever again. I don’t know what kind of Hell we’ve just been through, but now I can see a glimmer of light at the end of the dark tunnel.

If we hold each other tight enough, we might just make it through.

“Are you ready to do this?” I ask him.

Spencer shrugs, and I take his hand in mine. We’ve just landed at Heathrow Airport and we’re just about to walk out into the arrivals lounge. I already know that the paparazzi are waiting for us. Security have called the boys to let them know, so I take my mother’s ring off my right hand and slip it onto my wedding finger.

“What are you doing?” He frowns.

“Giving them something to talk about. If they think we’re already married, they won’t notice when we do actually get engaged. And besides, from now on I plan on giving them as much bogus material to publish as possible. I want the world to know that they can’t trust what they read in this trash.”

He rolls his eyes. “We’re not getting engaged, Charlotte. That ship well and truly sailed when I threw a quarter of a million pounds over a fucking cliff.”

I smile up at him. Anthony, Wyatt and I searched that damn cliff for two days looking for my ring… with no such luck. Spencer wouldn’t help us, of course. He stayed on the deck by the pool drinking cocktails. He said that the ring was bad luck and a sign that he should never get married. I plan on proving him wrong if it’s the last thing that I ever do.

“Have you got a ring you can put on your ring finger?” I ask.

He looks at me, deadpan. “No, because I’m not getting married.”

We’ve had a good week in Santorini—a wonderful week—and even though I know he’s still holding a grudge against me, we’re together, we still love each other, and every day we get a little bit closer to where we used to be. I really messed things up between us, and every time he tells me we are never getting married, I silently freak out.

“Okay.”

“I fucking mean it,” he whispers as we come into view of the photographers.

“Charlotte!” the photographers all cry. “Over here, over here.” I smile at the cameras as I grip Spencer’s hand with my right hand and wave with my left. He keeps his head down and concentrates on moving us forward.

“The car is out the front,” Wyatt says as he ushers us forward towards the doors.

“She’s wearing a ring!” someone calls out, and they all push forward.

“Charlotte, did you marry Spencer Jones? What does your father think about this? What about William? Have you seen your lover Penelope Prescott, Spencer? Were you on your honeymoon?”

The black Mercedes wagon comes into view, and pulls up by the kerb. Spencer opens the door, and then hesitates when he sees my father and Edward already in the car.

“Get in,” I urge as the cameras are clicking away.

Spencer gets in and slams the door shut, and I hold my breath. The car pulls away to escape the madness.

“Hello, Spencer,” Edward says.

“Fuck off,” Spencer mutters. “Drop me home now.”

Edward and my father exchange looks. “We want to talk to you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing to say.” He keeps his eyes cast out the window.

I take Spencer’s hand in mine, resting it in my lap, and I remain silent.

“We need your help,” my father says.

Spencer’s eyes rise to theirs and he smirks. “You’ve made it quite clear where you and I stand. Don’t come to me when you need help to get rid of her.” He shakes his head in disgust. “I won’t be used.”

I grip his hand tightly.

“Charlotte, talk some sense to him,” Edward says.

“No. I won’t, and he’s completely right. Leave us alone. I’m telling you right now that if you don’t accept Spencer into our family, you will not see me, either.”

They both glare at me.

“Spencer and I are getting married. Whether you come to our wedding or not is up to you.”

Edward clenches his jaw.

The car pulls up at Spencer’s building, and he gets out in a rush. My father and Edward jump out behind me.

“What are you doing?” my father asks.

“I’m going home, Dad.”

“Your home is Nottingham.”

“My home is with Spencer. Wherever he is is home to me.”

Tenderness fills Spencer’s eyes as he watches on, not saying a word.

“Now, if you would both like to come to London next weekend and have dinner with us then that would be great. If not, I’ll see you around.” I rise up to kiss Spencer, and I take his hand in mine.

Edward inhales deeply, clearly trying to hold his tongue.

My father smirks and glances between us. He knows that this is it. I won’t back down again.

“Dinner would be lovely, darling. See you both next weekend. I’ll look forward to it.” He kisses my cheek, and he holds his hand out to shake Spencer’s. For a moment, Spencer just stares at him. I hold my breath as I watch on. There’s so much history, so much heartache…

Please just shake his hand.

Eventually, good manners prevail, and Spencer gives in and shakes his hand.

“Look after her,” my father whispers.

Spencer gives him a curt nod and turns, leading me into the building. We get into the lift and the doors shut behind us.

I smile at the beautiful man in front of me, grateful that he is willing to move on from all of this.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He wraps his arms around me. “You can show me how much in a minute.”

I giggle. “Swoony Spencer Jones at his romantic best.”

He gives me a sexy wink and we kiss as the elevator takes us higher and higher.

It doesn’t matter what happens from here because I know everything is going to be okay.

He loves me and I love him.

He is my everything.