Chapter 45 Grace Nash

Lady Boners

A Month After the Wedding

It feels like I'm being pulled in ten different directions all at the same time, but when I spot movement out my office window behind my bungalow, I glance over.

I see Spencer step out of the rental car that he drove here, and I leap up from my desk and race over toward him. I practically topple him over in my excitement to see him here.

"God, you're gorgeous," he says in my move to get to him.

"I missed you," I say, pressing my lips to his.

"Happy anniversary—a day late," he says, and he leans down to nuzzle my neck, pulling me into a tight embrace. "This feels so good. I missed you, too."

"Happy anniversary," I say, holding onto him tightly, too. It feels like more than eleven days have passed since we last saw each other, and at the same time, we seem to pick back up right where we left off.

I realize I left my office door open, and my laptop on, and anyone could go in there to access my files—which, of course, I don't want.

But the last thing I want to do is go back to my office when Spencer just got here .

I need some alone time with my husband, and all that tells me is that this is even more real than I thought it was.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I'm fond as fuck right now after being away from him for far too long.

I grab his hand and pull him into my bungalow, and I kiss him again. "Let's make a pact that we're never apart longer than a week," I beg.

"Deal," he says, tucking some hair behind my ear before he moves in and really kisses me. It's urgent and deep, and I feel his neediness after being apart for too many days.

It won't be easy. We both have jobs that we need to be present for—albeit for very different reasons, but still valid reasons each in their own way.

But he's worth the effort, and his single word of agreement tells me that to him, I'm worth it, too.

His neediness scales up a level as his hands move along my body, and it's as if he can't help himself. He reaches for the bottom of my shirt to pull it over my head, and he tosses it on the floor. I do the same to his shirt, and then I move down to his belt buckle. I trail my hand down to cup his hard cock in my palm, and I'm not sure why it comes as a surprise every single time, but it does.

He's huge.

He's hard.

He's ready.

If lady boners were a thing, mine would be pointed straight up at the ceiling. Or at his chin, as the case may be.

He shoves his hips against my hand, and it's hot as hell to feel what I do to him. He growls then bats my hand out of the way as he takes over the belt duty, and he drops his jeans down with his boxers a moment later, kicking his shoes off in the process and working the pencil skirt I wore to work. He gets the zipper down and pulls my panties off with it. I kick off my heels, and voila, we're both naked.

He grabs me up into his arms as if I weigh nothing, and he deposits me onto my couch. He's on top of me a second later, no words exchanged between us as he fists his cock and swipes it through me .

"Can I go in?" he asks, and the motivation behind his question is clear. He needs to know whether it's safe to fuck me without a condom.

We're both highly responsible adults, despite what the rings on our fingers might say, yet we haven't had a discussion about children or sexually transmitted infections.

"If you're fine with it, I'm fine with it."

My meaning is clear, too.

No further words are exchanged as he slides into me, and my eyes roll back as I grip onto his shoulders.

Holy. Shit.

Spencer Nash's cock is pure gold as it moves inside me with nothing between us.

"Open your eyes," he says, and even though it's a command, somehow it comes out tender and sweet.

I do, and all I see is him as our souls connect.

I've never had sex without a condom.

I've never been this head over heels in love with someone when I was having sex, either.

I've never felt anything like this before.

And as he pumps into me, pleasure and love and adoration written in his eyes, I feel myself start to go to a new plane I've never visited before.

Sex with Spencer is always incredible. But sex with Spencer without a condom is something for the books.

Those hot and spicy books, anyway.

He shoves into me, and I wrap my arms around him as he drops his lips to mine. He kisses me softly, a heady contrast to the way his body slams into mine over and over.

He takes me to the brink, and then he slows it back down. He takes me one step closer before he slows it down again.

He's playing a game that neither of us wants to win because if we win, then this is over, and we have to wait until we can be like this again.

He starts to slow his thrusts, lingering deeply before pulling out again, and it's those slow, luxurious thrusts that have my pussy tightening over him .

I cry out his name, and he growls mine back at me. The sound of my name coming out of his mouth in a growl that pushes me straight over the edge into the abyss of pleasure below.

"I'm coming!" I shriek as the tight spring of my body hits its climax. I start to pulse over and over around him as I grip onto him, my nails digging into his flesh as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me.

"You're going to make me come," he grunts. "Inside or no?"

"Give it all to me," I cry, my pussy still clenching around him. "Give me all your come."

"Fuck, Grace," he mutters, and then he pushes up harder into me and holds still a beat as he spills into me. The jets of hot come stream inside me, prolonging my orgasm in a hot and unexpected way as I watch the pleasure on his face.

He follows directions, giving it all to me, and when both our bodies start to come down from the epic high, we both sigh. He leans down to kiss me tenderly, and eventually he pulls out of me.

I feel his hot come as it drips out of me, and he reaches down to catch some of it, spreading it up and around my clit. My body is still coming down from the orgasm he caused from hitting the right spot inside me, but as he rubs the hot semen around my clit, I feel another one starting to form.

My legs clamp around his hips since they're still spread, and he's still hovering over me, but I can't help it. My body is reacting purely on instinct now as I come again, and I'm thrashing beneath him as I fight my way through the intense pleasure.

He only stops touching me when I start to giggle and twist my way out of his hold, a sure sign the orgasm has ended, and now my body is overly sensitive to the touch.

He settles in beside me and kisses my cheek before he tosses an arm over my stomach, snuggling into my neck. "Jesus, you're hot when you come."

"Right back at you," I say, feeling suddenly shy after the double orgasm.

That has never happened before. Not once in my entire life .

And I'm freaking dead after that. I'm exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally…just done.

In the back of my mind, I know I still need to eat dinner. I still have things to finish up at the office. I still have responsibilities. But I'm having such a hard time caring about any of that when I'm this… satisfied .

And it's all thanks to Spencer Sex God Nash.

When we're together, life feels pretty damn perfect.

But it's when we're apart that Amelia works overtime to ensure we're not okay.

She sends photos of me to Spencer, and she's careful to make it look incriminating when it's nothing of the sort—like the time I hugged Pete when he told me his uncle had died, or the time I was standing close to Anthony in the fields as we inspected some of the vines as small, green grapes started to emerge after the winter months. Or even when I was working with the construction crew as they built the shed.

All these instances were innocent, but she insinuated they were not.

How do I know this?

He sent me screenshots of her texts.

Did you know she was cheating on you with Pete?

Looks like your "wife" has feelings for our construction worker.

But Spencer knows me, and he trusts me. She can send all the photos she wants. She can even manipulate however she wants. We're not going to let it break us.

When the second week of June hits, I haven't seen him in two weeks—since our anniversary weekend. We already broke our not-longer-than-a-week promise.

He has mandatory minicamp, which means intense days with his entire team. It's also the height of our busy season as summer gets underway and the people traveling the lakes of Minnesota stop at our little vineyard to give Newlywed a try.

It doesn't hurt that a Marriott resort is under ten miles away, and a huge Embassy Suites was built a few miles away from us four years ago .

It's great for traffic here, but it also means I can't get away to go visit Spencer—not even when Heidi's here to help me out on the weekends.

And it doesn't help when Amelia is flaunting her marriage in my face.

"It's so nice having my husband around all the time. He knows this place so well."

"Spencer and I never went more than three days without seeing each other."

Three days? How is that even possible?

Oh, right—because Amelia used to live in the city where Spencer played.

And also…it's a lie. When it got toward the end, I know they went more than three days without seeing each other.

I tell myself that over and over on repeat, but it doesn't change the fact that she's playing on my insecurities, and it feels an awful lot like she's starting to win.