Page 46 of Spin Control

I take a deep breath and then another. I need to get up, clean up, and leave. That’s what I usually do. But right now, what I want is to collapse on Wes’s chest. I want to tell him how well he did as I run my hands through his hair and feel his stubble against my cheek.

I blink hard. I never want those things.

What the hell has Wes Grant’s big dick done to me?

After another breath, I extricate myself from him and move to the edge of the bed, sitting there until I’m certain my legs remember how to work.

“No speaking,” I remind him. Honestly, I’m shocked Wes hasn’t said anything before now. “Don’t speak or move until I leave.”

I finally stand, gather my things, and go to the door. As I grab the handle, I pause briefly, wondering if I should say thank you.

But then I blink hard and remember who the hell I am.

After showering in my own room, I slide under the covers, this time feeling the pull of sleep. That was exactly what I needed.

But I can’t fuck Wes Grant ever again.

20

My dick isn’t even fully soft when I hear the quiet click of my hotel room door.

It’s been approximately two minutes since Elizabeth made me come so hard I went blind for several seconds and she’s already gone. That has to be some sort of record.

I sit up and blink several times before I say, “What the fuck just happened?” out loud.

I followed Elizabeth out of the hotel after the confrontation with her shitbag of a brother-in-law with the sole intention of making sure she was okay. I never expected to see her have a meltdown. I didn’t even know it was possible for her to crash out like that. It scared me.

But it also ignited a burning need to take care of her—to let her know that she was safe, to swear I’d never call her Lizzy again, to tell her she’s brave and that I didn’t think her instincts were off. Mostly, I wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone.

I think that’s what most people would want in a situation like that. But it’s not what Elizabeth wanted. The woman literally fought me on it. I was proud of myself for getting her to do something as simple as order food. I considered insisting that we eat together, but when we got our order, already packed in takeaway containers, I could tell from the set of her shoulders that I wouldn’t win that argument. And Elizabeth desperately needed a win.

So I ate my dinner alone in my hotel room while watching a movie on cable. I figured I’d call it an early night, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about her. I pulled out my phone a time or two to message her, but couldn’t find the right words. I was considering going down to the gym—but then there was a knock at my door.

And there was Elizabeth, taking my breath away. I didn’t know if I should look at her hair, loose and cascading down her shoulders and back, that tiny scrap of frilly fabric, or the determined look in her eyes. When she stepped into the room, I had no idea what to expect. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought she’d demand to fuck me and then blow my entire mind.

I’m not new to the world of kink. I’ve always been a sexually curious person and have flirted with power exchange before. But it was always more playful, done with a wink—and I was never the one in a truly submissive role.

God, I got her so wrong in Monaco. I should have realized. I should have known.

I remove the condom, wrap it in toilet paper, then toss it in the trash. When I look in the mirror, I almost laugh. The skin across my throat is red, and my nipples are swollen and darker than usual—the left from where Elizabeth bit the shit out of it, little teeth marks visible, and the right from when she basically tried to wrench the thing off my body. They’ll probably both be bruised tomorrow.

I’ve had rougher sex. I’ve been restrained and blindfolded, had multiple people’s hands on me at one time. But I’ve never experienced anything as simultaneously intense and cathartic as what I just experienced with Elizabeth.

This time, I do laugh. She barged in my hotel room, demanded a condom, told me to get naked while she remained mostly clothed, commanded me not to speak out loud or touch her, delivered pain when I broke her rules, and somehow, it was the most relieving, maybe even the most satisfying, sexual experience of my life.

What the fuck.

Literally.

21

I’m going to murder Todd.

I’ve been in Cape Cod for two entire days, and have yet to have any time alone with my sister. And it’s all because Todd has a knack for proposing last-minute plans “for the whole family” in front of the kids.

It’s maddening how easy this is for him, and how the entire world just seems to bend to his will.

After my parents head back to Connecticut because they can’t possibly reschedule a dinner with their other retired friends, I try my best to help Jane. I entertain the kids, giving her time to take a shower and eat lunch in peace, while Todd lounges by the pool like a pampered house cat. I keep hoping he’ll wake up with the kind of sunburn that requires hospitalization, but he, of course, has a golden glow that many would pay hundreds of dollars to achieve.