It was all he could do to keep them both upright when Spencer crashed into him. The man was no lightweight, and the body under him was pure muscle. Four years seemed to vanish in a flash as he remembered every hard inch of it beneath his fingers and lips. How it felt and tasted…
He gritted his teeth. This was such a bad idea.
“Why are you in my building?” He managed to prop Spencer upright but needed to keep a hand on him to prevent him from sliding to the floor. In all their years together, he’d never seen Spencer so drunk. Outside of college, that is. Wolf wondered what had happened to cause him to drink to oblivion.
“Is dish your building?” Spencer mumbled, and his hazy eyes squinted as he peered around. “I don’t remember.” He hiccupped and held onto Wolf’s neck. “You’ve never had me upstairs. You don’t like me anymore.”
Wolf ignored him. “I asked what you’re doing here.”
But Spencer was too busy rubbing his face into Wolf’s neck. “Mmm, you smell good.” He licked Wolf’s neck, and his traitorous libido responded. His dick zinged to attention, hardening to painful stiffness.
Fuck, no. This can’t happen. Not again.
“Don’t do that.” Wolf attempted to pull away, but Spencer clung to him. Surprised by Spencer’s strength and afraid Spencer might feel his arousal, Wolf slowly pried Spencer’s hands from him. “How about some coffee?”
“Ooh, are you taking me to your apartment?” Spencer pinned him against the wall and Wolf grimaced.
“Try and control yourself. I’ll make you some coffee and then call you a car when you’re sober.”
“Are you inshinuating I’m drunk?” Spencer slurred, and despite himself, Wolf’s lips twitched.
“Insinuating? No. Statement of fact.”
“Mmm, Wolfie, you’re hot when you’re all bossy and lawyer-y.”
“And you’re drunk and stupid. Why are you here? You didn’t come looking for me, I’m certain.”
Did he hope that maybe…no. His mind snapped shut at that insane thought.
“I was in the penthouse. You know Giorgio Campo lives there.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
Spencer laughed. “Of course you don’t. You’re Wolf. Too busy to pay attention to anything except righting all the wrongs in the world.” He smoothed his hands down the lapels of Wolf’s suit. “Nice fabric, Wolfie. Glad to see you’re buying at Maximillian.”
“It’s after midnight, and I’m tired as hell. Can we get on with it?”
Spencer tweaked his tie while Wolf held off strangling the man.
“You wanna get it on with me? Hmm?” Spencer rubbed up on him.
“Not likely,” Wolf gritted out, stepping away from all that hardness. Whether it was the late hour, his exhaustion, or merely Spencer’s presence, Wolf’s control was slipping, and he needed to end this encounter as quickly as possible. Thank God Spencer was too drunk and self-absorbed to see how off-center he’d become.
Spencer continued his nonsensical babbling. “Campo is one of the hottest models in the industry. We’d already been drinking at the Standish, and he invited me to come to his place. I figured, why not? He’s hot as hell, and I was horny.”
“What a surprise.”
“Don’t be so judgy, Wolfie. I love sex. I can’t help it if you don’t.” Somehow, Spencer’s arms ended up clutching his neck again, and their cheeks rasped together. “Or maybe I’m wrong,” Spencer murmured, pushing up on him. “After that night, I think I am. I’ve never forgotten it. Have you?”
For a second Wolf allowed himself the luxury of having Spencer molded to him, but alarmed by his free-fall into desire, he tugged one arm from the death grip around his neck. His breath came easier now that they were separated, and he’d recovered his wits. Four years should’ve given him enough time to get his emotions in check, but the moment Spencer touched him, his defenses crumbled. So he chose the route he’d fallen back on for years—he turned cold.
“This conversation is over. Do you want me to get you a car to go home?”
Mumbling to himself, Spencer began to sway, and noticing his red-rimmed, glassy eyes, no matter how much Wolf wanted to send him away and forget this happened, he didn’t feel comfortable putting Spencer in a car in his inebriated state. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened.
“Come on.” Grumbling, he slipped his arm around Spencer’s waist and pushed the elevator button. The doors slid open, and he steered him inside.
“Ohh, are we going to bed?” Spencer snuggled into his chest, and despite his attempt at indifference, Wolf enjoyed his weight. Spencer was too far gone to notice how tightly Wolf held him—and that he might’ve rested his cheek against the softness of his hair.
