Page 71 of Filthy Savage

I’m going to have fingertip bruises, and I’m not sure I care. Having him this close to me, it’s all that I care about. I really don’t care how desperate that makes me sound. I’ll never not be head over heels for this man, even when I’m hurting.

“I’m going to tell you right fucking now, Spencer Maddison, and it will be the last time I say a goddamn word about it. I do not want Jasmine. I do not want any woman except you. Just you, beautiful.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I stare into his eyes. God, this man will ruin me. I know he will, and yet, I welcome it. I almost want it. Maybe I just get off on the pain. I’m not sure, but I’m here for it.

“It’s you, Spencer. It’s always been you. I just didn’t know it until you came back to me. You cannot hold my past against me.”

“I just want the truth,” I exhale.

“Then you fucking got it. It’s you. Nobody, nothing, not a single fucking soul, but you.”

He kisses me again, this time taking me to the bed, laying me down, and devouring every inch of me.

BREW

Wrapping my arm around Spencer,I pull her close to me. She moans in her sleep, and my heart thumps against my chest at the sound. Touching my lips to the side of her throat, I slide my hand around her tits and cup one of them, squeezing gently.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I murmur against her flesh.

She lifts her hand, gripping my hair at the back of my neck as she arches her back, pressing her ass into my morning wood. I grunt as I begin to kiss her, and that’s when my phone starts buzzing on the motel room nightstand.

As much as I want to ignore it, I can’t. We just signed that deal with the Southern Mafia, and shit is not settled completely with them yet. Nipping her shoulder, I release my grasp on her tit and reach out, grabbing my phone.

Without even looking at the name flashing on the screen, I slide my thumb across and hold it to my ear.

“Brew,” I grunt.

“She’s beautiful. She’s young, too.”

I blink a couple of times before I realize who is on the other end of the line. Pulling the cell from my ear, I look at the screen and cringe at the sight. It’s Jasmine. I clear my throat and sit up, leaning against the headboard as I lift my hand and scrub my palm down my face.

“Why did you do it?” I demand.

She laughs softly, and I know she’s trying to be sexy. It doesn’t work this time, although I think that the only time it actually worked was that first night.

“I just went to your place. It was the anniversary, and I needed you.”

I don’t have to look at the calendar to know what date it is that she’s talking about. It’s the date of her miscarriage. At least, that’s what she’s claiming. I still don’t know for sure that she was ever pregnant, but I’d look and sound like a dick if I even asked.

So I never have.

“Jasmine. I got a woman now. What we had, however fucked up it was, it’s done now.”

Spencer’s breath hitches in the background, but I ignore it. This conversation needs to be done. This relationship, or whatever the fuck it is, needs to be done.

I am ready to move on, and I know that Jasmine should as well. Ten years is too long to be in whatever this toxic shit is that we’re in with one another.

“How am I supposed to pay my bills? Do you really want me working a pole again?”

I bite the inside of my cheek and close my eyes slowly, then open them and let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t really give a fuck. You do whatever you need to do. But I’m done. It’s been a decade.”

“I was pregnant with your child,” she sneers.

This conversation is over.

I am done with it and done with her.

My decision has been made, and it’s clear that she will not stand for me being anywhere near Jasmine, and I don’t blame her. I think I might kill them both if the tables were turned, and how fucking hypocritical would it be if I expected anything different?

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