“Of course I have, but you were always too busy studying and being involved with other non-fun things.”
A firm hand grasped his cock. “And you’re only interested in the fun.” Wolf’s eyes darkened, and he didn’t wait for an answer, crushing their mouths together.
Spencer held on to his friend as he fought not to lose himself.
***
The alarm went off at the brutal hour of seven a.m. For a moment Spencer lay with his eyes closed, smiling to himself at the incredible events of the night. Who would have thought Wolf would end up in his bed…inside him, and be the best lover he’d ever had?
The man was as driven when having sex as he was at his work, and Spencer couldn’t wait to grab a quickie with him before he had to return to the Fashion Week events. If Wolf was willing, Spencer could get him a ticket to the shows, and they could spend the day together.
Spend the day with Wolf?
That thought alone equaled a week’s worth of mental gymnastics. Lately, they’d rarely been able to be even an hour in each other’s presence without wanting to kill each other. But maybe things had changed? Did he want more with Wolf? Did Wolf?
Where the hell were these thoughts coming from?
“Too much brainpower this early. I need coffee,” he mumbled to himself. There were so many things he wanted to do to Wolf. To do with Wolf. Spencer didn’t want to think about him leaving just yet. He rolled over, ready to begin the day.
“Good mor—” He stopped short. The space next to him was empty, and when he touched the sheets, they were cold. “Son of a bitch.” He jumped out of the bed.
A swift run-through showed the suite to be empty. Wolf’s clothes were gone, and the search for a note proved fruitless. He’d simply up and left as if nothing had happened between them.
“That bastard.” Shaking, Spencer grabbed his phone and hit Wolf’s number, but unsurprisingly, it went to voice mail. He sent a text, but it remained unread, as did the others he sent throughout the day. He sat fuming during the runway shows, concentrating more on Wolf than on the reason he was in Milan.
“Asshole,” Spencer muttered as the last of the shows wrapped up. His body ached, still sore from Wolf’s lovemaking but also from the emptiness of his loss.
“Spencer. We’re all going for a drink.” Sean or Steve, assistant to this year’s “it” designer, tapped him on the shoulder with a hopeful smile. He was vapid but young and cute and someone who’d been angling to get into his bed for weeks now. Spencer would never play where he worked, but he wouldn’t mind a mental diversion for the night.
He sent another text to Wolf:If you think walking away without saying anything means it didn’t happen, you’re wrong.
He gave the eager assistant a brilliant smile. “Ready when you are, sweetheart.”
One day he’s going to regret this. No one fucks me and thinks he can forget it happened. Not even Wolf.
Chapter Two
Present Day
Wolf hadn’t realized how hard it would be to see Spencer every day. They hadn’t been together for this long a stretch since college, a lifetime ago. As busy as he was with his caseload, it had been easy enough to hide behind work and miss dinners and get-togethers so as not to be with him. Their increasing rancor toward each other, driven mostly by his inability to forget their one night in Milan, had brought them to the breaking point of a friendship once believed unshakable.
Here, at Chess and André’s engagement party, it was impossible to separate those two sides of himself—the man who never lost control, and the person four years earlier who’d allowed himself to be taken to the moon and back. Part of him wanted to let go while the other held on to the internal ropes tying him into knots of indecision.
He’d had two drinks to celebrate the engagement and was feeling lighthearted after the phone call from the feds in Florida; they’d caught the kingpin of the drug cartel in an overnight car crash, and his client’s mother and sisters were safe. Maybe that was why he hadn’t pushed Spencer’s hand off his ass during the photoshoot. Even if it was only briefly, it had felt so damn good to be touched again after all those barren, empty years.
Then Spencer had to ruin it.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t like me touching you. I know better.” The others had walked away, and Spencer’s deep, soft voice breathed in his ear. “Were you remembering that night when you couldn’t stop touching me?”
Hot naked skin…warm lips engulfing his cock…the delicious, indefinable sensation of sinking inside Spencer and never wanting to leave him. His toes curled at the thought, and goose bumps rose on his skin.
“Why would I?”
Spencer’s eyes glittered. “Still pretending nothing ever happened between us? You can run, Wolfie, but you can’t hide.”
Guilt and shame coursed through him. No matter how ugly his and Spencer’s relationship had turned after that evening, Wolf knew the fault was his alone.
“It shouldn’t have happened.”
