Page 6 of Spencer

Maybe that was the reason Spencer was so conflicted, uncharacteristically picking on his buddy. He needed calories and sleep. His cranky mood surely had nothing to do with the angel about to come aboard.

“You do that, my friend,” Pietro told him with a laugh. “But here is my promise. I will not allow anyone to claim her until you rejoin us, later.”

Spencer grumbled, but managed a bewildered smile as he strode away.

Yup. He had to be overtired, because this was the first time he’d ever regretted having the night watch and not being able to help with the day’s activities.

Despite visions of luxurious,auburn curls twining deliciously around his body in a siren’s dance during his first few minutes in the rack, Spencer actually managed to get his requisite sleep. When he woke up right before his phone alerted him it was time to arise, however, he found he had a problem. Somethingelsehad arisen. An enormous hard-on. And it seemed, as he disengaged his alarm, there was no talking it down. His mind, once again, fixated on the ship’s visitor.

“Goddammit,” he cursed under his breath, swinging his legs out from under the covers to leap lightly off the top bunk. “What the fuck?” He adjusted himself, then strode from the bunk room, sighing and aiming for the head.

Taking care of a stiffy in the small, less-than-private confines of the ship was always difficult. Often times Spencer would simply ignore his problem until it went away. But due to his appendage’s persistence this time, Spencer had no choice. He needed to rub one out to assuage his randy dick.

Luckily, because of his schedule, he was the only one in the vicinity of the less than private rain-locker at the moment, so he took care of business quickly and quietly, hoping that was the end of it. At least for now.

Traversing the steps up the companionway two at a time, Spencer ignored his rumbling stomach, and instead focused on the voices he could hear coming from the mess. Mixed in with the male cadences, of which he was more than accustomed, there was the bright sound of a female laugh. It made him want to stop and absorb the sound, which…

What the fuck was the matter with him? It wasn’t as if he didn’t get his share of women when he wanted.

Spencer, like all his brothers, was considered good looking—or so he’d always been told by close females; at least his cousins in his extended family. He’d never lacked for dates. But that had mostly been to have someone on his arm for parties and such. Other than a very small handful of women with whom he’d consensually had fast, fun sex, Spencer had never become attached. He’d never felt the need for a long-term relationship. No woman had ever made more than a small blip on his radar. So why had one glimpse of this female, a complete stranger—and from a long distance at that—derailed his normal indifference?

Damned if he knew.

Spencer forced his feet forward, toward mid-ship, still pondering.

Perhaps he’d been overtired by the end of his watch and his perception had been skewed? Maybe his imagination had been amped up by a need for sleep? There had to besomereasonable explanation.

Spence squared his shoulders, assuring himself that once he was introduced to the woman up close and personal, he’d be able to put his unusual and unwanted fantasies to bed.

With one foot poised over the hatch coaming that led into the mess, Spencer was blindsided again, stuttering to a stop. Without even trying, his eyes focused on the sole female amidst a sea of rampant testosterone around the table.Damn.You could almost cut through the pheromones in the air because…

Yeah. Randy guys. Stunning visitor.

“Ciao, my friend,” Pietro called over to him. “Come. Get something to eat, then sit. You must meet our affascinante guest, Tabitha.”

Tabitha.

Was she? Fascinating? And wait. Spencer wanted to guffaw. The name of the sub. Endora. It now made sense. Somebody was aBewitchedfan, for sure.

Tabitha continued to eat, not knowing where his mind had gone, giving him a small, airy wave over her shoulder.

That was all it took. Spencer stumbled as he moved his feet toward the serving counter where the cook had already prepared his plate. “Thanks, Jim,” he said absently as he picked up his repast. “Looks good.”

He wasn’t blowing smoke about the food. Jim had rotated onto their crew in Florida, and was one of the best chefs Spencer had encountered during his days at sea.

“As if you’re even seeing it,” Jim teased. “Go join the sharks, Spence, but watch out. The chum in the water is pretty thick overthere.” The cook laughed and went back into the depths of the galley.

Spencer shuffled toward the table, feeling anything but suave. When Pietro moved over on the bench, giving Spencer room to sit next to the breathtaking Tabitha, Spencer put his tray down and sat, but couldn’t find his tongue.

“So, you must be Spencer of the night watch,” Tabitha offered up lightly, taking the initiative and proffering her hand. “Pietro has been singing your praises.”

“He has? I mean, I am. I mean…” Spencer shook his head to hopefully drop all the bits inside it into place, and began again. “Hi. IamSpencer, and I’m pleased to meet you, Tabitha.”

“Call me Tabbi,” she stated, grasping his hand heartily, but not looking directly at him.

He would. Maybe. But she looked more like a Tabitha to him.

When their palms met, Spencer swore an electrical charge travelled up his arm. Tabbi jolted back in her seat as if she’d experienced it, too. She quickly drew her hand away and brushed it against her jean’s clad thigh. “I’m, uh, the sub owner,” she explained unnecessarily, now studying and playing with a frayed hem on her shirt. “But you missed my first launch, and… I’m, umm, all finished for the day.”

---