Page 105

Fuck, fuck, fuck.I slam my elbow into the up arrow.Not fast enough.
I growl in frustration as I make my way to the staircase with Spencer in my arms. Of course as soon as I turn around, the elevator finally arrives.
“For fuck’s sake,” I shout. I ignore the onlookers as I carry Spencer into the elevator. The moment the doors are closed I punch the “emergency stop” button. The alarm rings, jostling Spencer. She’s not fully unconscious, just so woozy I don’t trust she can stand.
The dress was too tight, suffocating her. How didn’t I see it before? Of course that’s what it was. She couldn’t move. She barely spoke. Spencer’s been in pain all night.
I watched her from the stage, talking to Casey, trying to calm the beast of envy in my chest. I played the piano from memory, my eyes in the crowd as my fingers glossed over the keys. Charlie was so excited to take the stage, but I wanted the song to be over. I needed to figure out why Spencer was crying.
“It’s ripped,” she whimpers.
The back clasp of the dress broke free and there’s about a two-inch tear in the back.
Setting her down gently, I spin her around so she can brace herself. “Hold the wall, Spencer. It’s about to be a lot more ripped.” I grab both sides of the fabric and yank.
“No,” she cries out. “Nathan, please don’t. The dress.”
I ignore her, continuing to split the dress apart. Fabric falls down to her ankles, and I see what’s actually choking the life out of her. I don’t know what the hell kind of contraption she’s wearing, but the corset looks like it was made to crack her rib cage. It’s sheer and thin, but the tightly sewn lining is squeezing her skin so hard it looks like she was poured into it.
“What is this?”
“Body shaper.”
“Shaping you for what? Death?”
The sheer corset is held closed by about fifty metal clasps. No time. I wrap my canines around a weak spot in the fabric. I puncture the material just enough to get my finger through. Once I rip the top in two, it falls to the floor, freeing her breasts. Spencer gasps for air like she nearly met death underwater, and barely resurfaced in time.
As she catches her breath, I scour her bare back where the material cuts into her skin. Thick red lines are embedded in her flesh where the seams cinched her, creating a waistline several sizes too small. She’s lucky she’s not bleeding. Her flesh looks raw and whipped. I trace the lines with my fingertips and she flinches.
“I’m sorry.” I stare angrily at the dress and corset at our feet, as if they forced her into this misery. “I’m going to kill that designer. He said this was your size.”
Panting calmed, Spencer covers her breasts best she can with her forearms crossed, then turns to face me. “It was the size I told you.”
“You gave me the wrong size on purpose?” I study the lines across her chest and belly. They are angry and deep, matching the ones on her back.
“A smaller size.”
“Why?”
Arms still wrapped around her chest, she shrugs. “I didn’t want you to know. I thought you’d suddenly be put off.”
“Impossible. Spencer, you put aguinea pigin your front pocket and I still wanted to rip those overalls off your body a couple weeks ago. That should tell you how insanely attracted I am to you.” I trail my eyes over her lush, perfect body. “I see nothing here but what I want. Minus the pain. Don’t ever do this again. Be honest with me.”
“You want me to be honest?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to stop looking at me,” she murmurs ashamedly. “I know I look gross.”
“No, you don’t. You’re so beautiful. Even when you think you’re at your worst, I’m a man obsessed. Let me show you.” I walk her backward until she’s pressed against the elevator wall. I cloak her with my body, moaning in pleasure when I feel her soft curves press against me. “You’re so sexy.” I grab her hand and place it against my growing erection. “Feel that? This is what you do to me constantly. It’s fucking torture, Spencer. Don’t worry about the dress, it was always bound to come off.” Leaning down, I nuzzle against her cheek. I tug on her earlobe with my teeth. “Should I fuck you right now? Will that help show you how much I want you? What if I can’t wait to get to the room? Can I have you here?”
“My dress was too tight. I’m sweaty.” She turns her head, unintentionally giving me access to her neck. I nip and kiss at the delicate skin close to her collarbone.
“I don’t mind at all. In fact, I want to taste you. Would you like that? Can I lick your pussy clean right here, right now?” I graze my hands down her body. She refuses to untwist her forearms, so I skip her breasts for now. She flinches and tightens her midsection when I track my hands down her stomach. I cup her sex, grinding the heel of my palm against her. “I’m not a man who begs, but I’ll beg on my knees for this, baby.”
With my thumb, I find her clit through the fabric of her panties and she lets me massage little circles against her most sensitive spot, but it’s when I drop to my knees and try to replace my thumb with my lips, she pulls back.
“Can we stop?”