“What was your marriage like? Did he fuck you?”
I press my lips together and close my eyes, knowing he won’t believe me. “No.”
“Bullshit.”
“He didn’t.”
“Right. You’re just trying to save my feelings. Well listen to this. I fucked other women. I’ve been fucking other women since the moment I met you. That girlfriend I got after winter break with you my freshman year? She was my first. I fucked her in my dorm room. I was her first too. She looked like you. One time, I called her Sylvie, and she got so pissed, she broke up with me.”
I wince at his words. I know he’s just trying to hurt me.
“And I’ve fucked plenty of others too, so you can go ahead and tell me the truth. I can take it,” he says irritably.
Can he though? Really?
“I’ve never fucked anyone else.” I rise up, so I can stare him straight in the eyes. “Only you, Spence.”
His hands find my hips, pressing into my skin. “Give me a break.”
“It’s true.”
“What about that asshole you took to Whit’s wedding?”
“Cliff?”
“Cliff?” He mimics my voice, high-pitched and girly, and I almost laugh, but I’m afraid it would piss him off even more. “Yes. Cliff. He looked like a pretentious asshole. Just your type.”
“Are you calling yourself a pretentious asshole? Because you’re definitely my type.” I roll my hips, letting him feel me, and he inhales deeply when I brush my pussy against him.
“You know what I’m saying. That guy was so territorial.”
“That guy is gay and he’s been on a couple of dates with Monty,” I say.
Spence goes still, his brows drawing together. “Serious?”
Nodding, I lean in, pressing my mouth to the side of Spencer’s jaw. “Serious.”
I continue kissing along his jawline, Spence staring off into the distance. “I’m an idiot.”
“Yes, you are.” I kiss his chin.
“I’m sorry I said all of that shit about being with other women. I was exaggerating.”
Relief makes my heart grow light. “Good.”
“Though you didn’t answer the most difficult question of all.”
I pause in my exploration of his face with my mouth. “What question is that?”
“What was your marriage like with Earl? What happened when he died? How did he die? Those details were never shared from what I could find.”
My heart bottoms out, and I choose to ignore it. “Can’t I answer that tomorrow?”
“No.” He slides one hand down, until he’s cupping my ass. “Stop trying to distract me and give me an answer.”
He’s being so bossy, and like the good little girl I’ve always been, I automatically answer him.
“Our marriage wasn’t much of one. We were wed only a little over a year when he died.”