Page 72 of Filthy Savage
“Ten years ago,” I state. “This is done.”
And with that, even if it makes me a dick, I end the call. Placing my phone on the nightstand, I look down at Spencer.She’s got the sheet pulled all the way up to her neck, her eyes wide as she stares straight ahead, clearly uncomfortable.
“It’s done,” I state.
Spencer turns her head slightly, her gaze finding mine. “I don’t know how I feel about this,” she admits on a whisper.
Reaching out, I grab hold of the sheet at her neck, twisting the fabric in my hand and tugging it down, exposing her tits for me. She gasps as I climb on top of her. She spreads her thighs, the thin fabric of the bedsheet the only thing keeping me from slipping inside of her.
Dipping my chin, I open my mouth and suck her tit, flicking her nipple with my tongue. She lifts her hips and whimpers.
“Feel relieved that it’s done. I know I do,” I say after lifting my head to look up at her before focusing my attention on her tits again.
Spencer’s fingers slide through my hair, gripping the strands at the back of my head as she holds my face to her perfect tits. “I never want to see her again. And I would feel betrayed if you did.”
With a grunt, I release her tit, then move over to the other one but lift my face to hers before I begin my newfound focus. “The conversation is done, beautiful. I handled it. That’s that.”
“You’ve been paying her bills,” she says on a whisper.
My lips twitch into a smirk before she says anything else. “Beautiful, I haven’t paid a bill of hers for about five years. I don’t know where you got that from, but I’m not paying her bills.”
“How is she living life without working?” Spencer asks.
I only have one answer for her. “Don’t know, don’t care.”
And that is that. I shift my focus to her tit, then to her pussy. The conversation is done. I could live my whole life without hearing Jasmine’s name again. She doesn’t mean anything tome, and if I’m being honest, she never did. It’s always been Spencer. She is mine—for life.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
SPENCER
I feel like a complete asshole.Standing in front of the bakery, I swallow the lump in my throat, turning my head to look over to Guts, who grunts. He doesn’t hesitate the way I do, though. He moves toward the door, tugging it open and holding it for me.
“C’mon, Spencer. I got a couple cookies with my name on them inside.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod my head, dipping my chin as I move through the door, making my way into the bakery. My senses are filled with sweetness. I can smell the honey and maple syrup, both of which I know Shawn uses for sugar, and the whole bakery is filled with it.
“Hey,” Ryan calls out almost instantly.
I open my mouth to say hello when Shawn steps out from the kitchen. Her eyes find mine, and her expression softens. But beyond a softness, there is pity behind her gaze, and I hate that with a passion. I want to tell her to wipe the expression off her face, but Guts speaks first.
“Got any of those chocolate chip things with cream in the middle?” he asks, practically licking his lips.
Shawn’s gaze flicks to him, and her smile widens. “I do. How many?” she asks.
“However many you have,” he grunts. “And a carrot cake cupcake?” he adds.
Shawn laughs and gathers the items, placing them on a white ceramic plate, then walks it over to the table for four in the corner of the bakery and sets it down. Guts is on her heels, and I watch as he practically runs to the table and sinks down, reaching for the cookie frosting sandwich immediately.
“Want to tell us what happened?” Shawn asks.
I shift my gaze to Guts, then flick it back to meet hers. She nods without me having to say a single word. Then she jerks her head toward the back kitchen.
“Hey, Guts, is it cool if Spencer hangs with me in the back to chat? I have an order I need to work on.”
Guts doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he lifts his hand and waves us away. Ryan watches us walk by, but she doesn’t let me pass without reaching out and touching my arm. Stopping, I turn my head and look at her. She gives me a smile before she speaks.