Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

MARLOW

T his was such a bad idea. Dancing with him was dangerously close to a dream I had about him the other night. I couldn't let myself fall for this man. He was not for me. But one dance surrounded by a hundred people was safe enough. It wasn't like we were going to drop to the floor and have wild sex. It was a dance. Everyone was doing it.

The man looked so sexy in his tux. His broad shoulders filled out the jacket perfectly, accentuating his muscular frame. The tux was perfectly tailored, clinging to him in all the right places. The sharp lines of the suit made him look powerful and confident. His dark hair was well styled, adding to his overall attractiveness. The black bow tie added a touch of sophistication to his ensemble. He was better than any A-list celebrity or James Bond.

I reached out to take his hand. He helped me to my feet. Spencer's palm rested firmly on my lower back, his touch sending electric shocks through my spine. The low-cut back left my skin exposed. I felt like I was being branded. Standing so close to him, I was acutely aware of how tall he was, how I barely reached his chin even in my five-inch heels. His presence was commanding, his movements confident as he guided me across the dance floor.

We took our place in the center. The way he looked at me made me feel like I was the only woman in the room. The way he led me, like I was his girl, ignited a warmth in my chest that I hadn't felt in a long time. Everything about the way he did everything had butterflies taking flight low in my belly.

How many fantasies had I spun around moments like this with Spencer Kane? Too many to count.

Back then those fantasies were those of an innocent teenager that had no idea what sex was like. My big fantasy had been dancing with him or having him come up to me after the game and kiss me. I dreamed of him coming back from college and taking me to prom. My fantasy was very, very different now. Now that I knew what it was to be touched as a woman, that was what I craved.

The tempo of the music slowed, and he pulled me in closer. His cologne was intoxicating in the best way possible. His intense gaze locked onto mine, making the rest of the room fade away. "Say yes," he murmured, his voice low and insistent.

"I can't," I whispered, my resolve wavering.

"You can," he countered, dipping his head so that his lips were dangerously close to mine. His smooth cheek brushed against my cheek as he spoke softly into my ear. "Maybe we should speak somewhere more private?"

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears. The seconds seemed to stretch into eternity as I processed his invitation. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to be alone with him. When I didn't answer immediately, just standing there with my lips parted like a deer caught in the headlights, he took the lead.

Spencer guided me off the dance floor, his grip on my hand firm and unwavering. There was a tiny little voice telling me not to leave the safety of the dance floor, but I didn't stop. I didn't try to pull my hand away or dig my heels in. Instead, I let him take me away.

We slipped out a side door into a corridor that connected the kitchen to the ballroom, usually used by the waitstaff. He led me with purpose, his stride confident. We rounded a corner and ducked into a smaller, darkened ballroom. The room was empty and the lights were off.

Spencer backed me up against the wall, his gaze burning with intensity. "Say yes to me," he urged, his voice a seductive whisper. "I'll make it worth your while. It will be fun to work together. Don't you think?"

His eyes drifted to the slit in my dress. I didn't stop him when he reached down and ran his hand from my knee up, up, and up, until his hand was hidden under the fabric. The sensation was overwhelming. I found myself teetering on the edge of giving in. He promised pleasure. I had no doubt it would be more pleasure than I had ever experienced before.

"Take the job," he urged, his hand shifting to my hip, his touch both possessive and gentle.

The intensity of the moment was too much to bear. Suddenly, we were kissing, like lovers reunited after years of separation. It was steamy, passionate, the best kiss I had ever experienced. My hands clung to his shoulders, pulling him closer, wanting more.

As our lips parted, I tried to catch my breath. My heart raced wildly. Spencer's eyes were still smoldering with intensity, and I knew the decision was still hanging in the balance. I didn't want to stop. My hand slid up to the back of his neck and pulled him back down to me. Spencer's lips met mine again in a fierce, hungry kiss that left me breathless. The world around us seemed to disappear as we lost ourselves in each other. His hands roamed my body with a sense of familiarity that sent shivers down my spine. I felt a surge of desire unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

I couldn't deny the magnetic pull between us. All thoughts of it being wrong were dismissed. Nothing that felt this good could be wrong. I could taste the champagne on his tongue that was pushing into my mouth with passion. His body was pressed against mine. I could feel his heart pounding in sync with mine. Every touch, every kiss, was electric. My body responded to him in ways I had never even imagined.

As we continued to kiss, I felt a deep sense of connection with him, as if we had known each other for a lifetime. Technically, we had but never like this. This was a different kind of knowledge. The world outside the small, darkened ballroom faded away. Our hands roamed each other's bodies, exploring every curve and inch. We were lost in each other, consumed by the passion that had always been lying dormant between us.

Then his hand moved to my inner thigh, and I remembered one glaring, horrifying fact.

Granny panties.

I yelped and smacked his hand away, breaking the kiss abruptly. He stepped back, looking at me as if I had just sprouted a second head. I stammered, my face burning with embarrassment. "I'll take the job. I can start on Monday. Just text me the office address. Gotta go. Bye!"

Before he could react, I slipped out from between him and the wall, fleeing the room as fast as my heels would carry me. I went down one hallway and realized it wasn't the way out. I ran back, searching for the exit. I couldn't look that man in the eyes. He had woven some kind of spell over me. If he looked at me again, pulled me in for another kiss, I was lost. He was going to discover my granny panties and he would be the one fleeing in horror.

I finally found the exit and ran out the door, putting the Golden Manor behind me. My heart raced as I made my way outside, my thoughts a whirlwind. Thank goodness for Kyla. Otherwise, I would have let Spencer Kane take me right then and there.

I searched up and down the street, only then realizing I had left my purse at the table. Thankfully, my phone was tucked into my bra. I quickly pulled it out while walking down the sidewalk away from the venue. I ordered an Uber with my heart pounding in my chest. I prayed Spencer didn't chase after me.

I nervously paced the sidewalk, waiting for the Uber, my heart still racing from the encounter. Please, let this be over. I glanced over my shoulder, pleading with the universe Spencer didn't appear. I saw my ride pull up and I quickly climbed into the vehicle, thanking the driver for the ride. As I stared out the window, watching the Golden Manor disappear behind me, I couldn't help but feel a mix of regret and relief. What if that had been my chance?

The Uber dropped me off at my apartment. I immediately headed to my bedroom. I peeled off the dress, standing in front of the mirror in nothing but the push-up bra and ugly white cotton panties that were ill-fitting. I gasped in horror. I tore off the offending undergarments, replacing them with a lacy black number that left nothing to the imagination. This is what I should have worn.

"No." I shook my head.

That was the wrong answer. The granny panties saved me from doing something I probably would have regretted in the morning. It was like indulging in a tub of ice cream. It was so good in the moment, but the next morning there were always regrets. I pulled on my pajamas and went into the bathroom to wash the makeup from my face. The night had been perfect. The ball was everything I thought it would be. And Spencer, good Lord, why did he have to be so attractive?

I thought about going to bed but knew it was going to be impossible to sleep. I made myself a cup of tea and grabbed my phone to call Kyla. I needed to tell her we officially had a new job starting on Monday.

"Hey!" she answered. "Why are you calling me? Shouldn't you be enjoying your Cinderella moment?"

"I'm home."

"Oh no," she said. "Was it that bad?"

"Not at all," I replied.

"What happened?"

"I… I almost did something dumb," I admitted, cradling the warm mug of tea in my hands. "Spencer kissed me. And I almost let things go further. But then, I realized I was wearing granny panties."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Kyla burst into laughter. "You're kidding me! Granny panties saved the day?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. "Yeah, they did. It was like a wake-up call. I couldn't go through with it, not with those monstrosities on."

Kyla continued laughing. "Well, I guess you were right. You can't resist the man."

"Apparently not. I don't know how I'm going to look him in the eyes on Monday."

"What's happening on Monday?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, I accepted his offer and we start Monday."

I hear her sharp inhalation. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"What do you mean we ?"

"Kyla, we're a package deal. I'm not going without you."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." I smiled. "I'll talk to you later. I'm going to drink my tea and go to bed."

"Goodnight," she replied.

I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, replaying the events at the Golden Manor over and over in my mind. The memory of Spencer's touch, his lips on mine, lingered like a sweet poison. Despite the embarrassment of my granny panties, a part of me couldn't shake the desire I felt when I was with him. Working for him would be a good antidote. I refused to sleep with anyone I worked with.