Now, Spencer’s affection for me dangled on a string, attached to the one thing I loathed more than my heart could take. Fucking. Money.
Rage replaced the stark cold of my pain, burning through it and replacing it with a satisfying glow. Anger, I could handle. And I was absolutely brimming with it, now. I stood, my eyes dry and my hands in fists at my sides. How was I supposed to know how Spencer felt about me when he’d not only accepted money from my brother in exchange for being here, but had said nothing about it? He could have told me at any point to clear up any misunderstanding, but he’d hid it. And that made it so much worse. So much more sinister than it needed to be.
I started forward again, marching for the house where I knew Spencer would be. Rage boiled over, hissing and spitting, spilling over the edges of my bruised heart. It needed somewhere to go, and I knew just who to dump it on.
Chapter twenty-seven
Spencer
Iwas starting to understand the appeal of house husbandry. Arabella’s job demands never stopped, holidays or not, but my practice wasn’t even up and running yet, so I decided to fill in the gaps for her. And it was nice. I helped weirdo Jay with the animals, pretending that he didn’t creep me out when, in fact, he did. And then I spent the day doing things around the house, planning dinner, throwing a load of Ara’s laundry in the washer, and tidying up after our tipsy party last night. Then I’d gone shopping for food—and decent wine—and had been following a chili recipe for the better part of the evening.
By the time I heard her boots on the porch, I was all aglow with domestic bliss. I looked over my shoulder as she came through the front door, setting the chili spoon on a dish and wiping my hands on a towel. She came through the door, her head down and her concentration on shrugging off her coat and hanging in on a hook in the small foyer. I came around to the other side of the island and leaned against it, folding my arms and watchingwhile she loosened the laces on her boots, carefully took them off, and set them together.
She still hadn’t looked up, which prickled at my instincts. “Long day?” I guessed.
Arabella looked at me finally, straightening and shoving her hands into the two front pockets of her scrub top. She made her way to me slowly, and something in her icy eyes sent a chill down my spine. “It was. Revelatory, even.”
I went into analyzing mode. Something was off. I took in the firm set to her mouth, the ice chips in her eyes, and the deliberate, slow pace she was taking across the space to the kitchen. “You don’t seem happy about it.”
She shrugged. “I just want to get out of my scrubs.”
I let my gaze drop down her slender body, and despite my suspicions, my body immediately tightened in response. Blood rushed to my dick, and my fingers twitched to grab her to me. “By all means.”
She peeled her top off, revealing her red lace bra. Holding my gaze, she shimmied out of her scrub bottoms, leaving her in matching lace panties and cute white socks. She kicked her clothing aside and stepped right into my space. I unfolded my arms automatically, wrapping them around her warm skin. She grabbed the front of my cream sweater, her expression hardening. “I have a lot of pent up… energy.”
What the fuck was going on, here? I cradled her face. “I bought wine.”
She shook her head, lifting onto her tiptoes and brushing her lips against mine. “Not what I’m looking for.”
Any rational thoughts that had been swirling around in my brain flushed down the drain and into a void of lust. I kissed her hungrily, tightening my hold on her half-naked body and devouring her sweet mouth. She kissed me back fiercely, her lips demanding and teasing, leading the chase and challengingme. I couldn’t have backed down if I’d tried. I met her passion for passion, my cock getting so hard, it tightened painfully in my jeans, and I had to use all my restraint not to pull her hard against it and give me some relief.
Her hands twined around my neck, and she let out a desperate kind of sound, pressing against me and then purposefully moving her pelvis against mine, flattening her lower belly against my erection. I groaned into her mouth, burying my hands in her perfectly curled, adorable pink hair, and my whole world became a white-hot blur of raging lust.
She slid her hands down the planes of my chest, slipping them under my sweater and causing my stomach to contract sharply. Her hands on my skin felt so damn good. I wanted to consume her. I wanted our bodies and beings to be so irrevocably fused, that neither of us knew where one’s desire began and the other’s ended. I loved her so desperately, I didn’t even know how to show her. Or tell her. But fuck me, I could try.
I brought my hands up to her breasts, small and pert and absolutely perfect in my palms. She moaned, arching into my touch, and I slipped a finger beneath the lace, just barely grazing her nipple. Arabella wrapped one leg around my hip, fusing our bodies together and bringing my inner temperature to a boiling point. “I need you to fuck me,” she whispered harshly.
Something in the way she’d uttered the desperate plea splashed cold water on my ardor. I pulled away from her—tore away, really—barely controlling the wildfire of desire I felt for her. I took her face in my hands again. “Bee, what’s wrong?”
Her features contorted, and I didn’t read passion there. I read hurt. “Just fuck me. Nothing is wrong.”
I shook my head, kneading her scalp with my fingertips. “Something is off.”
She leaned away from me, scowling. “Do I have to be in the perfect presence of mind to enjoy your dick, Spencer?”
Damn, those were fighting words. “Whatever it is, let’s talk about it. Then I’ll be happy to distract you with my fingers.” I trailed them down the sides of her neck gently. “And my tongue.” I leaned forward, kissing her softly. “And yes, my any-presence-of-mind dick.”
Arabella released a frustrated, keening sound, pushing me away and then stalking three steps in the other direction before storming back. She ran her hands through her hair, looking away and clearly trying to collect her thoughts. “You were supposed to fuck me, Spencer.”
I blinked. “I’d love to. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You are,” she exploded. She flattened her palm against my chest, pushing hard. I didn’t stumble, but I did catch her hand to keep her from doing it again. She didn’t try to take her hand back. Her fury was directly at me through her gaze, her lips trembling and brows drawn together. “I was going to fuck you, and not care, and not let you see how furious I am. And when we were done, I was going to tell you that I did it for revenge.”
I grabbed her other hand so she couldn’t run away. “Did what for revenge?”
“Fucked you,” she seethed. I stared, uncomprehending, so she kept going. “I was going to remind you that I did it because I wanted to, because you like it and you needed it, but really, I just wanted to get back at you. Because it’s okay to do something shady as long as it benefits us both, right?”
I opened my mouth, glancing up in thought, but I couldn’t find anything to say to that. After a beat, I said slowly, “You’re… angry with me. Something I did. And you were going to use sex as a weapon against me?”