a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS. WOW! I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT MUCH...HAHAHAH. Well, I hope you like this chapter ;) Some people suspicions were true...sort of ;) heh

Chapter 13

"Sex without love is as hollow and ridiculous as love without sex."
― Hunter S. Thompson

He is going to tell her how he feels. He is just going to say it. He likes her, and he has a feeling she feels the same (hopefully, anyways.) He doesn't just want to continue being her friend. He wants more, because it feels like there is more between them than just plain ol' friendship. He doesn't look at her like he looks like other girls. With Aria, it is completely different. Spencer is different than Aria. She is more…hard-headed, and stubborn, and strong-willed. And at first, these qualities put him off. But that was before he saw her more in depth. Truly, those qualities made her amazing. They make her strong. She has to behave that way to survive in the world her family made for her. She lives that way because she has to. But when she doesn't feel a need to be perfect, and strong, she lets her walls down. She reveals so many beautiful things about her, that he hasn't found in anyone else. She is so different than anyone else he has ever known, and he has always liked unique things.

So, he is going to tell her. Just tell her, "Spencer, I want to be more than friends." And maybe she won't feel the same way. Maybe she will laugh in his face, but he figures it is now or never. They graduate in a few months, and then she'll be gone—off to some ivy league college, meeting new friends and guys, constructing a new life for herself. If he doesn't tell her now, he may never have a chance to.

He finds her after school. He asked Caleb where she was (he didn't question why he wanted to know.) She is in the science lab, he told her, probably perfecting her project.

"Hey," he greets her. "Perfecting your project for the sixtieth time?" he questions, teasingly.

It takes her a second to look up, and when she does, he wishes she didn't pick her head up. Her eyes appear to be black. They are piercing into him, the desire to kill wavering in them.

"Did you come here to laugh?" her words come out like poison.

"Laugh at what…?" he questions, slowly moving towards her.

"Don't play dumb," she states calmly, but venomously, crossing her arms. "I know what you did. You think you're so clever. But guess what? Someone saw you."

"What are you talking about?" he asks, baffled.

"Oh give it up," her head rolls around, along with her eyes. "I know you did it, and I'm going to make you pay."

"I didn't do anything!"

"Really?" she questions, but he knows it is rhetorical. "Then can you explain what happened to my project? How it just got destroyed?"

"What? Spencer, that's horrible…I didn't…"

"Cut the crap, Toby," she shakes her head, staring back at the papers in front of her. "Just leave me alone."

"Spencer, whoever your witness is—they are lying!"

"She wouldn't lie to me! She's my best friend…basically," she adds the last part in a whisper.

"Aria?"

And then it makes sense. Only one person would do this.

"Alison?" the word sags off his tongue.

She glares up at him, "don't you dare try blaming her. I know it was you. You've just been messing with me—this whole time." She looks away for a second, "well, don't think you won. I'm going to make these next few months hell for you."

He is about to defend himself further, when he decides it isn't worth it. If Spencer really isn't going to believe him, after he flat out told her he didn't do it, then he isn't going to try and make it better. He isn't going to stand here, and beg for a chance to plead his case. No, why should he?

"Fine," he gets out, his husky voice, breathy. "Believe whatever the hell you want," he declares.

…

Spencer kissed him. She kissed him. And sure he kissed her back, but she initiated it. It isn't that he hasn't thought of it before. The possibility of her lips on his, the arrangement of his hands on her hips. Of course it has crossed his mind. But he always thought it was just one of those weird fantasies that had no inclination of coming true. But here he is, the taste of her lip gloss—cherry, he thinks—on his lips.

Is that why she wanted him to go up there? Because she wanted to hook up with him?

The thought had crossed his mind, but once again, it seemed farfetched.

He noticed the chemistry between them. The tension, the longing stares. But he never imagined anything would prolong these gestures. He wasn't planning on crossing that line, mostly because it is Spencer. And she, kind of, frightens him in a way that makes his insides twist.

Or she did, anyways. Maybe he feels that way again, he isn't sure. But the fear of rejection was certainly apparent. He wasn't planning on crossing the line. Sure, he would toy with her—make bets involving kisses, flirt with her—confuse her, by doing so. But he never intended to go beyond that, because the line beyond that was stepping into a field of possible rejection. Somewhere he didn't want to be. She already hurt him in high school, and he didn't want to feel that way again. But now, everything has changed. She kissed him, and it was one hell of a kiss, at that. It isn't possible that she felt nothing, when he felt everything.

He taps his steering wheel, unmoving—not even thinking about starting the engine.

She kissed him.

And damn it if it wasn't one of the best kisses he has ever had.

…

"Is Toby going?"

That's what she asked Hanna when she invited her to go to her and Caleb's 'hello new home' party. Which was really just a house warming party, but Hanna insisted Spencer call it that.

Spencer knew it was petty to ask, but she wasn't ready to confront Toby. He would question her about the kiss, or at least bring it up, and Spencer still didn't know how she felt about him. Or she did…but she wasn't exactly sure how he felt about her, and she was not going to humiliate herself in front of Toby Cavanaugh. Even though she is pretty sure he wouldn't just laugh in her face. Under all that sarcasm, there is someone sweet—someone who is loyal, and kind, and…ugh.

But he kissed her back, right? He kissed her back…and kissed her back, good. It's like his lips knew exactly what to do—his tongue knew exactly where to go, exactly how to move. Snap out of it, Spencer.

But the question still remained: did he actually have feelings for her, or was he just playing the role of the typical guy?

She hadn't figured it out, and she wasn't willing to ask, so that's why she asked Toby was going. If he was, she wasn't.

"No," Hanna had told her.

But Hanna lied. She lied, and Spencer believed her.

Now Spencer is at this party, Toby Cavanaugh darting through a group of people to meet her.

She does her best to avoid him, but eventually he catches up to her.

"Hey, I've been looking all over for you," he tells her, a knowing tone in his voice. He knows she was running. He is just messing with her. "Every time I got close to you, it's like gravity just pulled you away," he muses, a dark smile rising on his face.

"Hmm," she pokes up an eyebrow, "strange."

"Definitely," he responds, rising an eyebrow at her.

Here they are again, stuck in a staring contest.

"So…" she begins, "it was nice seeing you, but I really have to go. Hanna wants me to—"

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Sh," she hushes him, looking around.

"Spencer I've been calling you all week."

"Actually, you called me twice, and you left me two texts, so…you know, wouldn't technically address it as all week," she gives him a look, her brown eyes squinting, and her nose shriveling up.

He just glares at her, "so, you did get them?" he counters.

She looks down, biting her lip.

"We need to talk about the kiss—"

"Fine!" she barks out, "but not here. Somewhere else…more private," she glances around. She grabs his hand, and guides him to a spare room.

She has to order two love birds out, but once they are gone, everything is fine. She locks the door behind her, leaning against the door.

"Fine, let's talk," she lets out. "Ask me whatever you want."

"Why did you kiss me?" he immediately inquires.

She puffs out her cheeks, a quiet, "I don't know," coming out her mouth. But clearly it is not enough. She continues, "I wasn't thinking, obviously. I mean, it's you…" she demeans.

He glares at her, interrogating her, "since when do you do things without thinking?"

She shrugs, quirking up a smile, "I guess you just bring out the stupidity in me."

"So, you're saying the kiss meant nothing, then?" he furrows his eyebrows, coming closer to her.

"Yes," she nods, feeling her breath hitch as his feet inch closer and closer to her. "I didn't feel anything," she is almost sure that didn't sound convincing.

"Nothing at all?" he challenges her, his voice huskier and deeper than usual, making him more irresistible. He is just a foot away from her now.

She shakes her head slowly, letting out a breathless, "no."

And then his lips are on hers, his hands encaging her against the door. She can't resist him. She kisses back, with more force, her lips aggressively moving against his. She links her arms around his neck, pulling him into her, his body leaning into hers, his hands closing in on her body. She is completely pushed against the wall now, crushed between a man and a white door.

And just as it starts to get really good—better than their last little make out session, more heated than their last make out session, he pulls away, leaving her lips lonesome. Her chest moves up and down, her breathing irregular and heavy.

What the hell?

"You're right," he murmurs in a husky rasp. "Didn't feel anything…" he comments, his eyes wavering against hers.

"Excuse me," he murmurs, but she doesn't move.

He gives her an expectant look.

She looks down, and steps away from the door, but just as he reaches for the doorknob, she grabs his wrist. He gives her a curious look, a question lingering in those blue eyes.

She ponders on what to do for a second. She doesn't know why she grabbed him.

Well, actually she does…

She pushes herself against him, her lips colliding with his, and in an instant his hands are at her hips, his tongue tasting her lips. She links her hands around his neck, pushing herself further into him, and in reaction, he pulls her up on him. A moan of surprise escapes her lips, and he quickly finds it in his mouth. She is straddled around his waist, her legs wrapped around his firm body.

In a swift movement, she is back against a wall, her shirt riding up in the back. She wants to make the next move, but she can't. She is the one who initiated the kiss…it would be too much if she initiated something else too, right?

Ugh, screw that, she can't take it.

She carefully moves one of her hands downward, toying with the buttons on his flannel. It takes awhile, considering she only has one hand to do it, but soon his bare chest is beneath her fingertips. His hard, muscular, toned chest. God.

His lips find her neck, and she lets out a soft moan as he nibbles against her collarbone. Her hand grips at his back, clawing it. She pushes off the flannel, letting it fall to the floor.

His lips push away the fabric of her black loose fitting shirt, pushing the sleeve over her shoulder. His lips press against her shoulder, moving to her chest.

She lets out a, sort of, sigh, before leaning back into him, her lips encircling his earlobe.

At this, he moves her from the wall, shocking her yet again, producing a whimper. He lets her tumble down to some couch—thing? She isn't sure what it is exactly. It is, like, some chair, but longer than a chair. It extends a little, so your feet can be perched up. But it is still pretty tight for this situation…

He towers over her for a second, before joining her, spacing his knees between her legs. She stretches her arms up, and he takes this as an invitation to pull her shirt up.

She feels self conscious for a moment, but soon his lips are back on hers, and all of those thoughts flee.

The thought strikes her that they are in Hanna and Caleb's new home—about to christen the room, and for a second she feels guilty, but then she remembers how they did the same to her apartment this previous year, and she decides she doesn't care.

She moves her hands to his belt, and begins to toy with it, and eventually it comes undone. She throws it somewhere, and he begins to push up her skirt. Apparently he can't take the time to pull it off. She can feel the bulge in his beneath his pants, edging against her leg, and now she understands why.

A thought strikes her, "do you have anything?" she pulls away, breathless.

"Um, yeah," he mumbles, nodding. "In my pocket," he murmurs, staring at her with those intense blues.

She bites her lip, nodding.

"Good," she breathes.

He smiles at this a little, pressing a kiss to her nose, making her giggle a bit. Then he rises up to his knees, pulling out a wallet from his pocket, and throwing it on the couch, landing in between her legs.

He strips down to his boxers, and glides back over her, and his lips go to her chest. He tugs off her bra, unbuckling it in the back with a little trouble, making her smile into his mouth.

His eyes roam over her again, and once more, that feeling of insecurity hits her. But once again, it doesn't last for long. She doesn't let it.

She plunges her hands into his boxers, her hands finding what they were looking for with ease, her delighted ears encountering a groan from the man in front of her at the new contact. Their mouths connect once more, and soon his boxers are off, and the condom is unsealed, and it is on.

A moan rises from her throat as he moves inside her. She clamps her mouth shut, afraid that someone behind the door will hear. She grips his back, clawing it, as the initial pain beckons inside her.

He is sort of…slow, at first. Probably thinking he will hurt her or whatever, but soon he is moving faster and harder, and even though she tries, she can't keep herself from moaning. But that's okay, because he is too. And there is music outside, and a crowd of people. No one can possibly hear them.

She rasps his name out, whimpering and moaning, and conjuring up noises that she has never even her before. It feels like her whole body is on fire, and even though she is nude, she feels on fire. Like, she needs to strip even more, but there is nothing left to strip.

She chomps at his shoulder, her lips pressing a hard kiss to it, her teeth gently clamping down. She groans into his shoulder, feeling her climax coming on. She groans his name once more, and then it happens. She yelps out, and bites down on his shoulder, gripping at his back. She breathes heavily, closing her eyes, feeling a wave—no typhoon—of utter delight rush over her. She whimpers his name one last time, sighing.

God, how was it possible that he is this great?

She can't remember it ever feeling this good.

Soon, he reaches his own climax, and he is out of her, taking deep breaths, looking equally ecstatic as she.

Whatever this is…it isn't going to end here. She refuses to let it.

a/n: i suck at smut. That is like the most scandalous thing I've ever written, tbh. But it wasn't that awful, right? I tried. DID YOU LIKE IT. Or did you puke? TELL ME.