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“So…”
He opens the kit on the table and gestures at the bandages as they spill out.
I shake my head. “I’ll have Elijah take a look at it. No offense.”
“All right, then…”
Archer slides his jacket off, revealing a trail of bright red down his spine through his white shirt. He carefully pulls his shirt off over his head. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth. A thin layer of sweat coats his skin, making the few scars he has stand out in the dim light around him. Beneath that lies plenty of well-taken care of muscles. Deltoids, abs, and lats. The man must have started lifting when he was twelve or something…
He stands in front of the mirror by the door and cranes his neck back to get a better look at the scratches down his spine.
“Seems like you’re fairing worse than I am,” I say.
“Well…” He side-eyes me. “I suppose that’s what I get for messing with you.”
I stand up, catching sight of a bit of glistening glass shoved into his back. “Here…” I say. “Don’t move.”
He obeys, but he keeps a wide, unblinking eye on me. I lay my hands on him and my fingers tingle as I pinch the shard.
“This might sting a little.”
I yank it out and he flinches as I reach for the alcohol.
“Yes,” he says, exhaling hard. “Yes, it did…”
“Then, you’re gonna love this,” I say, shaking the bottle in his direction. “Sit down.”
Archer bends over the bench beneath the shattered window and brushes the broken glass to the floor before sitting down.
I move in beside him with the first aid kit and he shifts sideways to show me his back. Luckily, that was the only glass left from me slamming him into the window. Just a series of scratches, nothing more, but leave no wound unclean, as Elijah always says.
“This is odd,” he says.
“What is?”
“You nursing my wounds.” He glances over his shoulder and smirks. “Aren’t you supposed to be killing me?”
“Eh, don’t remind me.”
“Does this mean your plans have changed?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” I soak a cotton ball with alcohol and dab it along his scratches. He flexes his back to deal with it. “You didn’t bat an eye when I mentioned Elijah before. Does that mean you don’t plan on cashing me in?”
He exhales a laugh. “I haven’t decided yet.”
I glance at the table beside us. When I turn my attention back to his scratches, I catch him doing the same. He blinks away, pretending like he wasn’t staring at the location where he just fucked me into oblivion.
Heat spikes between my thighs. I will myself to ignore it. I’d be flat out lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. In fact, I haven’t enjoyed it quite like that in a very long time, but I must keep a shred of focus here. Archer sitting half-naked in front of me isn’t helping maintain a professional atmosphere either.
I toss the pink and red-stained cotton balls aside. “You’ll be fine. Just try not to slam into any windows for a while.”
Archer grins. “I’ll try my best, love.” I frown and he holds up a hand. “Sorry. Not love.”
I slide off the bench, but he reaches for my arm.
“Wait,” he says. “Let me look at your side.”
“I’m fine.”
