5
“Stubborn bastard,” Kelly muttered, flicking her fingers through her wet hair as she stood at the entrance to Spencer’s bedroom. She’d hoped to lure him upstairs by acting as if she belonged but maybe she’d overplayed her hand.
What a shocker. If she’d struggled with how to deal with him before sex, reading him afterward was completely impossible.
A smile twitched her lips as she rubbed her sore back. Her spine bore siding marks and she had a bruised ass. But finally getting her hands on him had been worth every dent and ding.
She started to flip on the lights then changed her mind. She could make out shapes in the dark—a dresser, a chair, a big bed with a curved footboard that felt as if it was sleigh-style under her reverent hand.
Smooth wood was a weakness of hers, probably because she’d settled for a cheap metal bedframe. Her budget didn’t extend to fancy bedroom suites or—her breath caught—silky sheets that poured through her hands like water.
She wanted to sleep in this bed. Wanted to sleep here with Spencer, his hard body unyielding against hers.
In business clothes, he was sexy. Naked, he bumped sexy up to criminal. And from the way he’d held her against the wall, his muscles weren’t just for show. Sex with him in a bed where they could spread out and play would be amazing.
Would be, but not tonight.
With a long sigh, she moved toward the chair. She wouldn’t sleep alone in his bed. Along with seeming invasive, she didn’t enjoy self-flagellation. Smelling his shampoo and soap on her skin was bad enough. Laying her head on his pillow would be defeatist in the extreme.
Inspiration had her turning back to tug down the neatly made sheets. She arranged them messily, as if someone had slept there. She grabbed her purse from where she’d dropped it and pulled out her perfume, then dabbed a little near the headboard. Just a smidgen. This wasn’t about sending him into sensory overload. All she wanted was a nice little hit to remind him what he was missing the next time he rolled into bed.
Her mood darkened as she remembered Nina. Didn’t matter. Her perfume would be clinging to his sheets whether or not he slept solo.
She returned to the chair and curled up as best as she could. Long legs weren’t conducive to snuggling but she gave it the post-coitus try. Once she’d gotten into a semi-comfortable position, she dug around for her phone and set her alarm for five as always.
Nothing and no one would make her late for work.
She winced as she looked at the time. Past two already. Yeah, she’d be a zombie tomorrow but she had a feeling good ol’ Spence wouldn’t be taking any potshots at her for it.
Marcia, on the other hand…
Yawning, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. Smelling his aftershave everywhere didn’t help on that score but she forced her mind to empty. All she needed was a couple hours of sleep and she’d be okay.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Ah, fuck.” It couldn’t be morning. Just couldn’t. She inched open one eyelid. Spencer had a big picture window in his bedroom and the sky had lightened to a milky gray, the moon barely visible. Dawn would be breaking soon.
Time to rise, shove her feet back into their torture devices and shine.
Facing her pained eyes in the bathroom mirror made her wince. Her back ached like a bitch and she couldn’t find any Tylenol in Spencer’s medicine cabinet. Of course not. Only mere humans needed pills. He probably thought protein shakes and vitamins were the cure for all life’s ills.
She shut the cabinet and headed back into Spencer’s room to retrieve her purse. This dress was hardly work-appropriate. She’d have to swing by home really quick, and she’d grab some meds then.
Halfway up from where she’d bent to grab her purse, she paused. Home and getting there were going to be an issue at 5 a.m., weren’t they? She couldn’t exactly hop a bus when she didn’t know how the schedule ran on this side of town. Her apartment building was only about five miles away, Spencer had claimed, but she didn’t really feel like hauling ass in her spiky sandals. And she wouldnotbe late.
If it killed her, she was going to act as if nothing that had happened last night had rocked her in any lasting way. She could deal. Shewasdealing. Spencer would never wonder if he’d messed with the wrong woman, because she was going to make an ice cube look positively hot and bothered in comparison.
In the meantime, she had to get home.
She dug out her cell phone and called Alana. Time for her lax friend to pay up for her crimes. Although truthfully, Alana’s ditching routine had probably helped her. If she’d stayed with her best friend, she wouldn’t have done anything more than watch Spencer. She certainly wouldn’t have run off with him.
She bit her lip to stifle a smile. For a woman who prided herself on her level head,run off withsounded pretty damn romantic.
Alana answered on the second ring. “Kel, I’m sorry!” Alana whispered. So, she hadn’t struck out last night either. Her now and then boyfriend Ramon must’ve showed up as planned for once. “I ran into an old…friend, and uh, we got talking.”
Or maybe not. “What about Ramon?”
“He was there too.” Before Kelly could question her further, Alana asked, “What about you?”