“Anyone who’s into men,” he’s quick to follow up with.
“That’s not the save you think it is. Do you thinkI’vethought about it?” Six is pretty, but I haven’t once wanted to sleep with him, not even when all I knew about him was his looks.
Darkness flickers in his gaze. “Have you?” It’s an accusation wrapped in a question, and the absurdity of it makes me chuckle.
“It was your theory, Spence. You tell me.”
“You only want me.”
He’s right, of course. It doesn’t need to be said. I’ll never look at anyone else so long as he lets me keep touching him like this. “I guess that means not everyone has thought about it.” At least not how Spencer means it.
“I guess so.” He sways closer, like he wants me to kiss him. I can’t resist that kind of invitation.
“Why are you asking?” I murmur, our lips brushing.
“Asking what?” He sounds half drunk.
The soft skin of his neck distracts me. It’s hard to remember our conversation. “About Six and Greer.” It would be so easy to give in and let this get buried underneath my need for him. But he’s been so weird lately, and I need some answers.
“Sex. It’s what you don’t get.”
I don’t understand the statement or what the purpose of it is. “Your lack of interest in men isn’t exactly conducive to having sex.” I don’t want anyone else, and neither does he, so we’re locked in this stalemate forever.
“But you want it.”
He’s really pushing this. “No.”
“You’relying.” He pulls away with a scowl. “You’re fucking lying to me.”
Christ. “Spence—” I reach for him, and he pulls away, standing. “Of course I want it. Withyou. Not with anyone else. I also know it won’t happen, and I’m okay with that. That’s not a lie, and it never will be. I knew what I was getting into when I let you close.” As if that would ever have stopped me.
“You can’t honestly tell me that it doesn’t bother you.”
“Itdoesn’tbother me,” I tell him honestly. “I want it because everything about you turns me on, and you already know that. That doesn’t mean I’m dissatisfied with what we have. What you give me is better than any sex I’ve ever had, and being with you, like this, fulfils me more than anything else ever could. Not having sex doesn’t detract from something between us.”
His lips tremble, like he’s trying to say something but doesn’t know how to. How long has this been bothering him? How could he ever think this isn’t enough for me?
“What’s with the sudden interest in sex? Where is this coming from?” An uncomfortable thought enters my mind. “Is this because you want to?” Even voicing the words is like pouring acid down my throat to eat away at my insides. “Are you asking me because you want to go out and sleep with someone?” There’s no way I’ll allow it. He can’t have both. He either has me, or he has that. I won’t allow it. Ican’t. He’s mine, not some random woman’s. If he wants to get off, he has his left hand. And there are toys he can use if he needs to fuck something. I refuseto allow him to use someone else to get off. They don’t get to make him feel good, not when it’s a door closed to me.
“What? No!”
Genuine horror crosses his face, like the thought’s never occurred to him. It settles the jealousy roiling inside me. Somewhat. “Then what’s going on?” The thought that he may be thinking about itwith medoesn’t enter. Or it does, but I refuse to let it take hold. That won’t happen, and thinking about it is only a lesson in torment. One I never pass.
“It feels like you’re pulling away from me.”
That’s… what? Where the fuck did he pull that from? “Spence, I let you jerk me off yesterday. And kiss me like it means something, when it doesn’t. How does any of that say that I’m pulling away from you?”
“Fuck off, itdoesmean something,” Spencer says angrily, lips twisted in a snarl. “I love you, and I love having your mouth on me. I don’t go around kissing randoms off the street!”
I slide out of the bed and pull him into my arms. He’s stiff but doesn’t fight me. “Spencer. I love you too. I’m not pulling away, and I can admit that I don’t know why you think that I am. I want you, in all ways. Whatever the problem is”—I tip his chin up with a finger underneath the curve—“we’ll work it out together.”
He melts against me when I kiss him, and I spend more time than sanity allows mapping his mouth and swallowing the small noises that he makes. So close to what I want it to be that I imagine I can taste it on my tongue, along with him.
“Don’t leave me,” he whispers brokenly.
“Never.” It’s not even an option.
Chapter thirteen
