Free The Everlasting Chapel by Marilyn Cruise

thoughts?” I
ask.
    “Hell, no.” He gets a scheming smile on his
lips. “Would you like a drink?”
    “Do you have any scotch or rum?” I ask.
    “Rum, coming right up,” he says. He goes
over to the bar—yes, he has a bar in his apartment—and pours me a
glass. He turns on Crazy Right Now and walks back to me, the
mood immediately changing. Handing me the half-full glass, I stare
at him. He doesn’t seem phased by my stare. I remember again how he
used to be a stripper, and he’s probably used to girls drooling and
ogling him.
    After he watches me down my drink, he pulls
his shirt off, revealing a stunning chest, and a to-die-for six
pack. Hell, there’s no fat anywhere, and I can see every single
muscle on his upper body. I reach out and touch his chest, letting
my fingers drag downward across each deep indent. His tan, silky
skin turns to goose bumps beneath my fingertips.
    “You look amazing,” I say. He must really
have been one of the club’s favorites. From the bulging biceps to
the defined shoulders, to the deep lines in his abdomen that lead
to the bulge in is pants, every part of him oozes sex.
    I feel my breaths quicken. Am I really going
to do this? Can I go through with it? No commitment? Not even a
desire for one? And when my heart belongs to someone else entirely?
Not only can I, I must. I have to break this spell Michael has on
me, the very one that is tearing me apart and keeping me from
moving forward.
    “Are you sure you want this?” Spencer asks.
“Because…”
    If he asks me that one more time, I’m going
to slap him. Instead, I reach behind his head and draw him close to
me, closing the space between our lips. For every kiss, the voice
in my head that says I’m making a huge mistake grows stronger and
stronger. I stuff it down, and instead focus on how firm his ass is
and how hungry his arms are.
    The way he moves his hips, definitely turns
me on. It’s more refined than what Michael does. Spencer’s hips
have a smooth, controlled motion to them, and the way he touches me
almost seems choreographed.
    He leads me into his bedroom while pulling
off my tank top. I unhitch my bra, ease it off, and let it fall to
the floor. I slide out of my black leather miniskirt, and shimmy
out of it so I’m only standing in my panties.
    He takes a step back, his eyes scanning me
up and down. His smile widens into an excited grin.
    “I have feeling we’re going to make each
other very happy tonight,” he says.

     
    * * *
     
     
    I wake up to a hand softly stroking my
cheek. At first, I think it’s Vivian, but when I hear a deep voice,
I abruptly open my eyes.
    “Sleep well?” Spencer asks. He has a towel
wrapped around his waist, and his blond hair is messy and wet.
    Then…holy crap. What did I do last night?
And, shit…I’m naked! I pull the white silky sheets over me,
although I realize it’s way too late for modesty.
    “I made you some breakfast. You’re more than
welcome to stay as long as you’d like, but I have to get to work.
There’s an emergency, and they need me at the hospital.” He lifts
up a key. “These are for my blue Audi so you can get home. It’s
parked in the basement parking garage in spot number sixty-nine.”
He winks at me and I feel my cheeks heat up. “The door to the
apartment will lock automatically, so you don’t have to worry about
closing up.” He places the key on the white nightstand, kisses me
on the forehead, and stands up. “I had a great time last night. I
hope we can still be friends.”
    I rub my eyes, trying to remember exactly
what did happen last night. Too much tequila, too much rum. I watch
Spencer pull on his scrubs.
    “I won’t be back until very late. I hope you
have a great day. Want to do lunch again tomorrow?” he says.
    I drive my elbow into the mattress and lean
my head into my palm. “I’d love that.”
    Watching him move, he seems lighter and
happier somehow. Me, however, I’m just putting up a façade and know
the