Page 71 of The Geography of Happiness

It was strangely all I needed to hear. It seemed crazy to trust him, and yet I did. “Yeah, I can do simple.”

“Excellent, then—” He lowered his mouth, his hot breath washing over my lips. “—how about we start... here?” His lips crashed over mine, his tongue sliding into my open mouth, hungry, hot, demanding, and sexy as hell. I was right there with him, all pretence gone that we were still just playing around. His tongue fucked into my mouth and I met him stroke for stroke. My legs wrapped around his hips, his hands under my arse, his fingers digging deep enough to leave a mark. And still the kiss went on and on, until somewhere deep in my heart, a lock snipped open.

As if he’d heard, Spencer groaned and tugged me closer, until I was teetering on the edge of the granite. All so that his tongue could delve even deeper, although I wasn’t sure how. I waited for the dust to rise from all those nooks and crannies that hadn’t known they were alive, that something as exciting as this was even possible. But if Spencer felt my inexperience, he didn’t show it.

Too focused on me.

Too . . . lost in me.

It was a giddy feeling, and I tried to carve the memory into my brain so I could relive the moment when I returned to Painted Bay and my quiet life of obscurity. If this was lust, sign me the fuck up. I nipped at Spencer’s lips and approval rumbled up his throat. He repositioned my arse and my cock brushed over his stomach. A whimper broke from my lips and I almostlaughed. Jesus Christ, I’d turned into some cheap romance novel.

“Mmm, you like that?” Spencer’s mouth slid down my throat to my collarbone, nipping and licking and sucking until I squirmed under the delicious assault. “How about this?” He lifted the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. Then he descended on my nipples one at a time in the same voracious fashion he attacked everything else.

Pleasure shot licks of fire all the way down to my cock, and it felt like my first time all over again. Then again, in many ways it was. My first sexual experience at fifteen hadn’t exactly been what you’d call memorable, and the next fifteen years, including my time with Amber, hadn’t exactly ripped the scales off my eyes either. I’d always figured it was me. That I simply didn’t fire that way.

The joke was on me.

Spencer kissed back up my chest and throat until he reached my lips and then plunged once more inside.

I’d just never found the right fucking key.

I cupped Spencer’s face in my hands and took control of the kiss, putting my lips on all those places I’d dreamed about when I thought I couldn’t,shouldn’thave him. The rough stubble on his jaw, the velvet lobes of his ears, his Adam’s apple that had mocked me for days every time he swallowed. I ran my nose through his hair, picking up coconut and lemon, and licked up his throat to catch the salty tang of sweat from his working day. And with every kiss and lick of my tongue, Spencer shuddered and groaned and told me how beautiful I was, how lovely, how hot, how irresistible.

To think I’d almost walked away. From him. Fromthis. I’d been an idiot. I might not get to keep Spencer, but I would never forget the gift he’d given me. Spencer Thompson was busychanging me forever—one kiss, one whispered word of approval, one pounding heartbeat at a time.

“Jesus Christ, tell me I can I touch you?” He suckled on my earlobe and stars lit behind my eyes. “I’m dying here.”

I grunted something that I hoped passed for a yes since I couldn’t seem to form the actual word, and it did the job.

Spencer’s face appeared in front of mine, lips swollen, chin and cheeks slick with saliva, pupils blown all to hell. He’d never looked more beautiful, and without stopping to think, I grabbed his jersey by the hem and whipped it over his head, taking his checked shirt with it and dropping both to the floor.

Then I kissed him hard, bruising, desperate for him to understand what the moment meant to me. A golden fucking ticket. An answer to all the questions that had circled my brain for years.

When I was done, he leaned back and licked his lips, grinning. “Well, look at you.” His fingers feathered down my sides and across my belly, striking fire on my skin. “I think I like this bossy version of Terry.” He took both my hands and held my arms open, his eyes roaming my pale torso, making me blush. “But I like this even more. So fucking gorgeous.”

I ignored the flattery, too busy drooling over the tightly muscled torso on display right in front of me. Acres of light olive skin brushed with coarse dark hair just begged to be kissed, down and down to the thick treasure trail that disappeared into his jeans.

“Jesus, look at you.” My mouth ran dry and my brain packed its bags and headed south.

“You approve?” he asked in a quiet voice, and I’d have said he was fishing but for the nervous edge to his tone.

I caught his gaze and held it. “Hell yes, I approve. I can’t believe I get to touch you.”

His eyes darkened further. “As much as you like. Please.”

I didn’t need to be told twice and immediately ran my fingers through the thick hair on his chest, humming my appreciation while noting the plethora of small scars that dotted his frame. Each came with its own animal story, no doubt, and I found myself wanting to know every single one.

I pulled him forward to run my nose over his clavicle and up his neck, drawing the scent of him deep into my lungs.I could get used to this—the random thought skittered through my brain and I shoved it back into the shadows where it belonged. This was a one-time free pass, nothing more.

“You smell good.”

Spencer snorted at the unintended surprise in my voice. “You’re clearly a fan of Chanel’s Down and Dirty Country Edition with its unmistakable notes of dog breath and manure. I haven’t showered since we got back.”

I laughed. “And yet it works.”

He pulled me close. “I happen to like the way you smell too.” He kissed me again, taking it slow this time around, making me feel like there was nowhere else he needed or wanted to be. The Mackenzie’s most eligible bachelor.

I didn’t care. I’d take it. I wasn’t looking to be special. I’d known what this was when I’d walked back into that kitchen.

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