I was off work the next day and happy to escape the whispers that had followed me out of the police station yesterday afternoon. And to the coffee shop later that evening. And into traffic on the way home when Leann's cousin, Nora, pulled up beside me at the stoplight, bouncing her eyebrows at me with a thumbs up.

People in Fairhaven could be relentless. I hated being the topic of gossip, especially in my place of work, but I guess there are some things you just can't escape in a small town.

To keep my mind off of it and mentally prepare for my upcoming night out, I was busy in the kitchen, finally making those long overdue sugar cookies.

Hands covered in dough with the sounds of the 80s streaming softly from my phone, I tried to get lost in my own little world, but one tiny fact kept nagging at me, and I couldn't fully relax.

Craning my neck for a view into the living room, I snagged another glance out the front window, spying on Spence's house with zero shame. I noted the gunmetal gray Camaro parked in the driveway, and since I hadn't heard him leave on his bike, I knew he was over there.

The recon was a preparation tactic, really. I didn't want to be caught off guard.

So far, I hadn't heard a word from him, but that didn't necessarily mean he didn't know about my non-date with Alex tonight. It just meant he was biding his time, calculating things as always, the same way he managed to hijack my ride from Leann and get me onto the back of his bike. Wind blowing across my skin, arms wrapped tight around his waist.

I hated that I was still thinking about it.

The oven beeped to let me know it was preheated, and I was placing the last rolled sugar cookie onto the baking tray when it happened.

Without so much as a knock or a doorbell ring, my screen door opened, the rusted metal screeching with his entrance like a built-in warning.

I held my breath as footsteps trailed down the hallway towards my kitchen, but when he appeared in front of me, the strangest sense of nostalgia hit me right in the chest.

It wasn't the first time he'd let himself into my house and I was sure it wouldn't be the last. I was also sure that he was only here to interrogate me about my plans for the night, but that didn't seem to matter.

Despite knowing what he was here for this time, all I could think about were those other times he'd let himself in. When his hungry stride led him right to me and he only had one thing on his mind.

My heart pumped with the memories as my eyes skimmed him up and down and back again, mouth watering a little without consent from my brain.

Shit. Shit. I felt like Leann. Perpetually horny, no matter how hard I tried to fight it. Why couldn't I just stay mad at this man?!

Spence stood there wearing casual jeans and his favorite pair of Vans. They had to be years old at this point, destroyed with love, and no longer the light gray color they started as. His hair was damp with the remnants of a recent shower, and the ink on his arm trailed down from the sleeve of a crisp white t-shirt.

Normally, that would have been enough to tug at the strings of my attention, but he was also nurturing a five o'clock shadow along his jaw, and I couldn't seem to look away from it. I loved seeing him on his days off from the station, his face not shaven to regulation for a change. He looked so good with facial hair.

I was completely distracted by the sight of him, and he seemed equally afflicted as his gaze swept over me, the mess I was making, and then back to my face with the strangest look in his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked him, shifting the cookie sheet over the counter for no other reason than needing something to do with my hands.

Spencer gave me an insufferable smirk. "Why were you looking at me like that?"

I'd been caught, but I played dumb. "Like what?"

"Like you were remembering the last time I fucked you," he answered, too easily. Those foul, although true, words rolled out of his mouth with nothing but smooth satisfaction, and I faltered for a response.

"I, uh..." My eyes did a quick scan of the kitchen before going back to Spence. "I will neither confirm nor deny that. Besides, I asked you first."

He laughed. He fucking laughed and then sauntered further into my kitchen, taking a seat at the island like he owned the place.

"I was looking at you like that because..." He gestured down at the countertop where part of the cookie dough was rolled and ready for the oven and the rest was a gigantic ball, sitting in a pile of powdered sugar. "You're baking cookies again," he mentioned softly, eyes lifting to mine with a smile swirling in his gaze. "I can't remember the last time you did that."

"I guess it's been a while." I shrugged.

Spence's brows dipped together in thought. "Junior year, right?"

"Yep."

He laughed. "When you made cookies for the homecoming bake sale."

"You mean the bake sale you and Dalton signed me up for?" I glared at him. "Where I ended up having to make ten dozen cookies to benefit a sport I didn't give two shits about?"

"The very same one." To his credit, Spence's smile grew less smirky and more reminiscent as he stared past me, lost in thought. "Man, those were some good cookies. Are you using the same recipe today?"

"Nope. I'm afraid these are the shortcut version." I put the first tray of cookies into the oven, set the timer to thirteen minutes, and spun back around to face Spence and the elephant in the room. "Now, how about you get to the point and tell me why you're here."

Picking up the shift in my mood, he sat up a little straighter on the island stool, keeping his eyes on me as he drummed his fingers against my countertop. I stared at the way they moved.

"Maybe I came to get a cookie," he finally answered.

"Nice try." I gave him a look. "You didn't know about the cookies until after you walked in here."

"I felt their presence."

"How?"

"I have a sixth sense for baked goods."

"Okay," I laughed, shaking my head and getting started on the next tray of cookies. "This has been fun, but you need to leave."

He stayed put, staring at my hands as I rolled the dough into balls. "You need any help?"

I blinked a few times in his direction, not answering until he looked up at me again. He was trying my patience and he knew it. "No, I'm good."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You sure about that?"

"Pretty sure."

With an amused smile, Spence came to his feet, taking slow steps around the counter to where I was standing.

Wolf eyes, stalking me like prey.

As he drew closer to me, I dropped the dough in my hands and went backward. One step for each of his, until I hit the sink at my back and he was standing right in front of me.

Eucalyptus body wash.

Mmm. I inhaled deeply, could feel his body warmth travel over to mine, he was standing so close.

His hand lifted toward my face. I arched away from it.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Relax," he whispered, bringing his hand up to my forehead and swiping his thumb along the top of my eyebrow. "You've got a little something up here."

Cinnamon on his breath.

I wanted to taste it.

"Oh," I exhaled a shaky breath instead, his proximity doing a number on me. My whole body was tingling. "It's probably powdered sugar."

His eyes locked onto mine and held me there like I was entranced, his hand lingering at the side of my face for a few more seconds than necessary. Then he brought his thumb down and I followed the movement, all the way to his mouth where he licked the powder off with a little smile.

Up so close and personal, I noticed the scar near his bottom lip on the right side. Usually, it blended in with his skin tone, but under the summer sun, his face was getting tan and the tiny mark, no longer than my pinky nail, stood out. A pale white line against golden skin. I always thought it was really cute.

He got that scar in the forest, on one of our many hiking adventures. Dalton was holding a branch back to open up a pathway through the brush, but when he saw a raccoon just a few feet away, he got spooked and sent the branch flying right at Spence's face. The very edge of it nicked his mouth.

He gave Dalton shit about it for months, claiming he was just a little bit less pretty now and it was all his fault. It also remained a longstanding joke between me and Spence that my brother ruined his perfect kissing lips.

Lost down memory lane, I hadn't realized how close that mouth of his and those perfect kissing lips had gotten to mine. Shit. Spence was closing in fast, eyes dark with intention.

I needed to untangle myself, quickly. But I had nowhere to go. I'd already backed myself up against the damn kitchen sink, so I expected to hit it again as I leaned backward.

Only, I didn't hit it. At least not right away. I was able to take a full step back.

That's when I realized that Spence wasn't the one who had moved toward me. I was the one who'd moved toward him.

"You trying to kiss me, Diva Davina?" His voice was low and gravelly as he moved his mouth to my ear, those words traveling straight to the needy space between my legs.

"No," I said right away, but my own voice was so breathy, I wanted to punch myself in the face for being so weak. It had been way too long since we were together, and the tension seemed to be coming to a head. "I was just..." I scrambled for words. "Seeing how far you'd try to take this."

Liar. I was completely gone. If he moved away from me now, I'd probably cry.

"Right," Spencer muttered, his breath fluttering against my skin like a summer breeze as his mouth moved lower and lower, the journey slow and warm and full of anticipation.

Next thing I knew, his lips were brushing over my neck, a place they absolutely shouldn't have been, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I wanted more. The need between my legs was becoming impossible to stifle, the vibration of desire burning in my veins like a forest fire.

When his lips finally pressed against my skin, properly, followed by the heady sensation of his tongue, my body sang out in victory, but my brain threatened to ruin it all.

It sent an alarm to my mouth and I found myself asking, "What are you doing?" But even as the words came out, I shifted closer to him, tilting my head to give him better access.

His answer was a shimmer on my skin. "Seeing how far you'll let me take this."

Sighing, I leaned into his touch, into the wet warmth of his tongue, the tender sting as he sucked my skin, and into the thrill of his hands all over me, one moving closer and closer to the top of my leggings.

His fingers slid along the waistline, pulling a strangled moan from my throat, an almost primal sound. I might have been embarrassed if I wasn't so turned on.

At that moment, the sweet smell of sugar cookies invaded my nostrils, and it hit me that they must've been ready to pull from the oven any minute now. Spence came to the same conclusion at the same time.

His mouth left my neck and moved back up to my ear. "I bet I can make you come before the cookies are done."

I let out a small laugh, turning to check the oven clock. "I doubt it. You only have four minutes."

I said it like a challenge. Because Spencer Lovejoy never turned down a challenge.

Eyes glimmering, he smiled at me. "Deal."

He moved so quickly and smooth, I hardly registered what was happening next, all I felt was him. All over me. His body pressed against mine, his mouth back on my skin. He had one hand in my hair, and the other was slipping into my pants with confidence.

I inhaled a sharp breath when his fingers slid inside me. It felt so fucking good, I thought I might fall over, so I grabbed onto Spence's shoulders and held on for dear life as my body matched his rhythm like a muscle memory.

He knew exactly where to touch me. Exactly how fast to move. Every second of contact pulled me closer and closer to ecstasy.

He'd always been so good at this.

"Holy shit," I murmured, breathless, as he worked me over, speeding toward the goal. "Don't stop."

He groaned in my ear, "Say please."

"Please don't stop."

Seconds later, Spence claimed a fast win over me. I was breathing through the aftermath when the cookies finally fucking beeped, still writhing on his hand as my body jerked with sensation.

He was slow and careful pulling away from me. The oven kept beeping.

Spence grabbed a dish towel from somewhere behind me and yanked the cookies out. I stayed at the counter, my eyes squeezed shut as the moment caught up.

"That was..." I exhaled a heavy breath, unable to find words or figure out what was supposed to happen next. I had no idea where the last ten minutes had even gone, let alone where the minutes would go after all that.

Spence, on the other hand, didn't miss a beat. After pulling the cookies out, he went into my utensil drawer and grabbed a spatula, reached into a cabinet for the cooling rack.

I stared at him as he transferred the cookies over with care, making it look as natural as breathing. My legs were still vibrating and he was being downright domestic, like he hadn't just made me come undone in my kitchen.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Did that really just happen?

How had I let that happen?

It all caught up to me at once, and I felt...well, I didn't even know how to feel.

I felt good, really good. But a sense of dread filled my gut when I remembered our current situation, the choices I'd made, and the mistake I'd just allowed because I was desperate to get off and I knew Spencer could take care of it.

He wasn't supposed to be taking care of that anymore.

What the fuck.

I reached up and tried to fix my hair, ran my hands over my clothes and adjusted myself. As I took note of the sensation still stirring between my legs, I tallied everything else I could still feel, knowing it would be a long time, maybe never, before I felt it again.

His touch lingered on my skin like a long embrace, his voice playing in my ear like a song. But then, I was distinctly aware of a sting on my neck, and my hand flew to the place his mouth had spent so much time.

It was warm still, the slightest pain pulsing under my skin. What the...

He didn't...

Running into the hall bath, I flicked the light on and launched myself toward the mirror. I found it right away. It was hard to miss.

"John Spencer Lovejoy," I shouted at him, anger flooding my veins. "You left a fucking hickey on my neck."

Laughter, soft and very smug, streamed from the kitchen. "Did I?"

"Why?" I asked, bolting back in there to face him properly. I found him leaning against the counter without a care in the world, dish towel tossed over one shoulder. My fingers pressed against the mark he left on my neck. "Why would you do that?"

"Got carried away." He shrugged, standing up straight. He pulled the towel off his shoulder and tossed it aside. "What's the big deal? It'll go away in a few days. Unless..." He tilted his head at me, eyes shining with mischief. "Wait. Did you have somewhere to go tonight?"

His question was a jolt to my chest. Alex.

I was getting drinks in just a couple hours with Alex. It had completely slipped my mind in the heated fury I got swept up in with this infuriating man in front of me, and I had no one to blame but myself.

Spencer may have been a sneaky bastard, but I'd been just as responsible for how that played out. I wanted it so bad, I couldn't bring myself to regret it. Even now.

"I can't believe you did that," I told him anyway, glaring from the doorway as he took slow steps in my direction.

He stopped right in front of me, eyes bouncing between my face and the mark he put on my neck.

"I don't know why you find it so unbelievable," he said, voice low and neutral, his expression unreadable. "You're the one who keeps saying I'm the bad guy, right?"

My mouth dropped open to say something, but I had nothing to say to that. So, instead, I turned as he walked past me and I watched him go.

"Enjoy your date, Davina." He threw a hand up and waved. "Maybe I'll see you around."