Page 77 of The Masks We Wear

“You’re drunk?” She tilts her gorgeous fucking head to the side, amusement dancing in her eyes.

I nod, holding up my thumb and index finger about an inch apart. “Maybe a little.”

She scoffs playfully and turns back toward the shower. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I was on my way t—”

“Come here,” I spout the command before I can stop it, and it comes out much more hoarse and forceful than intended.

Her eyes widen for a second before she regains her composure and pops a hand on her hip. “I’m getting in the shower.”

“That can wait,” I clip.

Lily huffs, her wet mouth parting, and I think I may have shocked her. My tongue darts out, sliding along my bottom lip as I consider the few times I’ve gotten to taste hers. Their sweetness holds a rent-free space in my head, and the desire to lick her becomes overwhelming.

As if she can feel the hunger rolling in my gut, she shuffles on her feet, a telltale blush creeping up the side of her delicious-looking neck. “How are you feeling over there?”

“I’m hungry.”

Her breath falters, giving away the fake calmness that’s currently slipping between her fingers. “I’m sure there are leftovers downstairs. Or if not, there’s a room service menu on the nightstand.”

My thumb comes up, wiping the corners of my mouth as my eyes hone in on hers.

“I don’t want what’s on that menu.” I eat up the distance between us, stopping when her breasts are rubbing against my chest with her inhale. The air between us mingles, an intoxicating mixture of mint and liquor, pushing me into another level of high.

Her staggering breaths get worse. My dick presses painfully into my jeans, but I ignore it, taking a step toward her.

When she finally speaks, I have to strain to hear her whisper. “What do you want, Spencer?”

I thought she’d never fucking ask.

“You.”

THIRTY TWO

Spencer Hanes just told me he wanted me. Through all the shit I’ve thrown at him, and after the hot and cold that is my screwed-up heart, he saidhewantedme.And even though it shouldn’t excite me as much as it does, my pulse accelerates, thrumming through my body with anticipation.

Nevermind, I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s only sex-related, I still let my mind take the three-letter answer and run with it. At least for tonight.

Just this one time.

After that, I can do the whole closure thing and move on. We just need to get it out of our system.

I keep my face as neutral as I can, tilting my head away from his. “Who says I’m on the menu?”

He laughs. It’s low, gravelly, and sexy as hell. It connects with my core, sending a pool of desire soaking into my thin underwear. I rip myself out of our bubble and force my feet to the bed where my pajamas are laid out. Instead of looking at him directly, I speak over my shoulder. “I’m taking a shower. You need to get some—”

A sharp gasp steals my words.

Spencer presses into my back, letting one hand snake up to the front of my throat and the other holding me by the waist. He tightens his grasp, and suddenly his lips are on the curve of where my neck ends and shoulder begins.

My skin tingles under his mouth, and I lean into him, unable to fight how good it feels. His hand that was holding my waist moves up, untying my towel and letting it fall to the floor. My moans echo in the air as he twists me around, his lips nearly touching mine.

His eyes somehow darker even more. “I said, I’m hungry.”

With a light shove, I’m on the bed, sprawled out for him to see. His eyes rove the length of my body, an index finger following behind his gaze, lighting my skin on fire in the process.

In those two seconds, any logic or reasoning behind not enjoying this moment dissolves, and I reach up to grab his collar. His mouth collapses on top of mine, gentle at first, but then his tongue slips through and takes control. We stay like this for what feels like forever, exploring and tasting, kissing, and nipping.

Lost in time, we make up for all the kisses we should have shared and all the ones we won’t in the future.

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