“I’m here. Just sleep.”
Spencer opened his palm, that hand corpse-like in that pale moonlight.
Shit. Duncan took it though, that clammy hand, almost cold on his warm skin. Watching Spencer sigh, relax on his pillow, his dark hair spread around him like a halo.God fucking damnit…He leant back in the chair, closing his eyes too, listening to that soft breathing, the smell of alcohol pervading the room. Holding that limp hand, fuck knew why. Knowing he would sleep, but stay alert, if anybody dared to come into the room. Drifting off on Spencer’s soft snores, his hand nestled in his warm palm.
Chapter 7
The sun, stabbing its piercing rays into his brain, like tiny pricks and darts.Fuck…Spencer rolled on his side, groping for his phone amidst all that nausea. Somehow, it got pushed under his hand so he clutched at it, the smell of coffee flooding his senses. Squinting in all that light, he blinked at that blurred figure hovering over him. His vision clearing, Duncan’s eyes swam into his vision, that steaming mug in his hand, close.
“Iss morning?” trying to move his tongue when it weighed a ton.
His voice. “If three in the afternoon is morning, then yes.”
Spencer pushed himself up to sit, trying to keep his stomach content in. His hands laced around the warm mug put in his lap. “You brought coffee?”
“And checked whether you had not died.”
Spencer focused on him, smirking. Somehow, that fright in him too. “I… I slept alone?”
“Yes. Right after I punched your insisting friend in the guts when he kept insisting to get into your ass.”
Spencer whined a laugh and sipped at his coffee.Heaven…He looked at Duncan. “He’s sore?”
“Yes. That’s what a good punch does to your guts.”
“Was it necessary?”
“I’m your bodyguard, and can only be provoked so much.”
Spencer’s lips curled up. “You’d whack my ass too?”
“You deserved it many times already, but you’re also my client.”
His dark eyes smiled. “Would you like that? Whacking my ass?” Somehow, visions of that large hand landing on his ass sent that warm blood straight to his cock.What the fuck…
Duncan noticed that faint creep of red on his pale skin. “Oh, I see… would you like that? Being spanked because you’ve been naughty?”
“Now that you put it that way, it sounds like I’m a naughty kid.”
“Maybe you are.”
Spencer smiled, sipping his coffee. “Do you like it? Whacking asses?”
Duncan shrugged. “What I do in my bedroom is none of your business.”
“You started it.”
“No, you did.”
“Not refuting is admitting.”
“You’re a philosopher now?”
Spencer’s eyes went to the window. “Are the others awake?”
“Yes.”
“Bring me a whiskey?”
