Page 11 of Make Me Want it Too

Spencer comes back from the kitchen and sits, bottle of steak sauce in hand. But when he opens the lid, brown liquid spurts out at him.

“Goddammit!” Spencer shoots up from his seat, drops of sauce sprayed down his crisp white shirt.

“Shoot! Let me help.” I jump up and grab a towel from the kitchen, but when I go to wipe the sauce away, he reels back.

“Stop, you’ll just ruin it. It’s already ruined. This is an expensive shirt, Macy.” Then he storms away.

I wait for him to come back so we can finish eating together, smiling at Bex and Jake whenever they look up, trying to ignore the awkward turn of the evening. But Spencer still hasn’t returned after ten minutes, so I eat the rest of my dinner without him.

The steak is a little dry.

I make a mental note to get a meat thermometer asap.

“I missed you here in bed last night,” Spencer says as we get under the covers, slipping between the cool sheets. He’s cooled down since the shirt mishap at dinner.

“You did?”

“Of course.”

I smile and slide over to him. He puts his arms around me and kisses my forehead.

See, he’s sweet sometimes.

When we first got together, he was the sweetest. We used to stay up late talking for hours. We’ve been together so long we know most everything about each other now. We don’t talk as much. But that’s how relationships go as they progress, right? There’s a comfort in being together in silence, too.

I always admired his drive and ambition. And now he’s doing it. He’s one of the youngest leading surgeons in his field. It’s been a bit rough the last year or two. Maybe two or three, as he’s been getting his career going. But I’m going to support him the whole way.

It’ll get better.

“This is much better,” he says. “You, coming to bed at a reasonable hour, with me, instead of staying up too late and waking me up at two in the morning when you finally stumble in. Really is better for both of our health.”

“You’re right.” I had tried not to wake him last night after the party, but he’s a light sleeper. I felt so bad knowing he had to be up in a few hours. Both of us getting uninterrupted sleep will be better. He truly cares about my health.

“I know I am. And now, we can do this.” He pulls me closer and kisses my neck while he shimmies my shorts and underwear down my hips.

Between both of us taking long shifts at the hospital and—Spencer especially—being mentally and physically drained, the opportunities to be intimate are few and far between. I’m lucky to get more than a couple times a month.

I never turn down the chance when he’s in the mood.

“Oh!” I pull my bottoms off the rest of the way.

He’s already got his boxers down and rolls me onto my back as soon as I kick my panties off at my feet. I don’t have the chance to take off my oversized sleep shirt before he’s pressed on top of me. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, he simply pushes it up to my belly button.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and brace for the moment he pushes in.

It only takes a second after the initial, uncomfortable drive inside for my body to get used to it and to start lubricating. After that, it’s smooth going as he moves in and out of me, his cheek at my temple, warm breath in sync with his thrusts.

We’re silent in the darkness. A peaceful merger of our bodies, giving and receiving love.

His tempo picks up, the movements faster and harder and shakier, and I know he’s about to find his release. With one stilted grunt, he pulses over me, emptying himself with his climax.

I love this moment—the split second he lets go of control, shows his vulnerability with me. It’s a connection I cherish.

It’s a connection that’s over too soon.

Spencer rolls over onto his back, his chest heaving and covered in a fine mist of sweat.

He’s almost asleep when I get back after cleaning myself up and finding a new pair of panties. I snuggle up to his side and throw my arm over his chest.

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