Mr. Big Shot (Suits & Sevens #1) - Isla Olsen Page 0,40

back working on your software soon and I won’t be your boss anymore.”

Ah, my software. I’ve barely even had a chance to think about it over the past few months, let alone come up with a plan for when I might be able to get back to it. I grin at Spencer. “I think that day’s still a little way away, but I like this long-term thinking you’ve got going on. It’s totally sexy.”

“Oh, yeah?” His mouth curves into a sexy grin. “Well, if you like that, wait ’til you hear some of my other plans.” He reaches out to curl his hand around my neck, bringing me forward for a soft but heated kiss.

“Mmm…tell me these plans…”

His hand moves slowly down my body as, in between kisses, he murmurs, “I want to take you to Italy. The Amalfi Coast, the Cinque Terre, the Tuscan wine region…all of it.”

Damn, that sounds amazing. I lift my leg to wrap around his waist. “When?”

“Next summer. August.”

“That’s a really…” I let out a gasp as he rolls me to my back, his hard cock grinding against mine as he molds his body to me. “Long way away.”

“Uh huh.”

“What else?” I demand, clinging fiercely to him as we move against each other.

“Next Christmas I want to take you skiing in Aspen,” he whispers in my ear, gently tugging on the lobe with his teeth. “Or maybe snorkeling in the Caribbean. Whatever you prefer…just the two of us.”

“Next Christmas?” I practically pant. “Why not this Christmas?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to leave your mom just yet.”

Oh my god. The fact that he’s considered my mom in all of this just makes my heart melt into a giant puddle of goo. Although, I have to admit, the mention of my mother does have kind of a dousing effect.

I wrap my hands around Spencer’s face and draw him toward me for a long, languid kiss. “That’s so sweet of you to think of her,” I tell him. “But for future reference, please don’t mention my mom when we’re…you know.”

He lets out a burst of laughter and rolls off me, cuddling into my side. “I just cockblocked myself, didn’t I?”

I lift a hand to rub his face affectionately. “Kind of, yeah.”

We’re quiet for a moment, simply gazing at each other, until I break the silence saying, “All of that stuff…it sounds perfect. But it does kind of rely heavily on one thing…”

“Me coming out,” he supplies.

I nod. “Yeah.” I move my hand to gently thread my fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to pressure you. It’s completely your decision when to come out. I just don’t see how we can move forward until you do.”

He tilts his head forward and brushes a kiss over my lips. “I know. And I’ve already made up my mind to tell Emily. I’ll take her to dinner this week so we can talk about it. She’ll be able to help us figure out whether to tell HR as well.” He draws in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “And she’ll be able to help me with Dad.”

After learning all the horrible truths about Branson Cox yesterday, I know how daunting the prospect of coming out to his father must be for Spencer. I snuggle in closer to him, wrapping my arms tight around him. “Just remember, whatever happens with your dad, you won’t be dealing with it alone.”

19

Spencer

* * *

“Have you seen this?”

I glance up from my computer, where I’m supposed to be getting work done but honestly just seem to be staring at the screen while my mind wanders back to the last couple days and my amazing weekend away with Will, to see hurricane Emily has whirled into my office. Her expression is twisted with anger as she marches toward my desk, an iPad clutched to her chest. “Spencer, we are absolutely suing this time. They can’t keep making up this stuff about you!”

My brows draw together in confusion. “What is it?”

She slaps the iPad down in front of me and my eyes nearly fall out of their sockets in alarm as I catch sight of the article on the screen. It’s on that same trashy website Amelia spilled her story to a little while back and has a headline that reads Fifty Shades of Gay. Part of me wants to laugh at the pun, but the rest of me is just too unnerved by the accuracy of the article.

It’s all in there: my preference for submission, how