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“Your desperation is showing.” I try for dry. For unbothered. But I laugh when he grabs the hem of my shirt and tugs it up to reveal my bare torso. The fabric catches on my chin, jerking my head back in the world’s least sexy way. But he frees me from the offending material and reaches down to the waistband of my shorts.
He walks forward, forcing me to step back.
“I’ve been desperate for no one, Minnnka. Not one single woman in the history of my life has created a fucking simp out of me.” He continues to back me up. Unsnapping my jeans and shoving them down my legs until I’m a woman in her bra and panties. In public!Well, sort of. “I’ve never wanted to please someone the way I want to please you.”
“Well…” I wrap my arms over his shoulders and hold on for the ride. “You do a good job of it. I’m often pleased.”
“Obviously not pleased enough.” He reaches down and grabs my ass, hitching me up until my feet leave the ground and my legs wrap around his hips. His cock is hard, firm and bruising against my core. But his hands are harder. Unforgiving as he squeezes my backside and brings us closer to the edge of the boat.
The wind picks up back here, blowing my hair around my face so the tendrils whip my skin and almost hurt.
“You snuck out of our honeymoon bedroom to call someone else.” He slams his lips to mine, his tongue coming out to duel. His teeth, joining the fray until I’m sure he hurts. I can’t be certain. I feel nothing but fire in my veins. Lust, burning right after it. But surely… “You left me in bed, all alone on my honeymoon, Mayet.”
“You’re blowing it out of proportion.” I roll my eyes, though I’m not sure if the action results from frustration or bliss.Either way, he reaches down between us and slides his knuckles over my pounding clit until I cry out. “Stop whining,” I groan, tightening my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. Closer. I’m wrapped around his body, and yet, I want to be closer. “Fuck me instead.”
“Nah.” He steals his hand away and pulls back just far enough to look into my eyes. Where I expect lust, I find deviousness. Where I expect fire, I find humor.
“Wha—”
“Time to cool off, Chief.” He tosses us both, body and soul, straight off the back of the boat until I swear I’m floating in midair for an eternity. But of course, I’m not so lucky. Caribbean water slams against my back without mercy, stealing my breath and dragging me beneath the surface so I can’t cry out, even if I wanted to.
We tumble for what seems like forever. Spinning and sluicing under the water. But not once, not even for a second, does Archer release me. His hands remain on my flesh, and his arms wrap around me, keeping me safe and close.
Bubbles rise between us, white clouds that make it difficult to see.
But in the chaos comes calm, and in the frantic panic that arises when tossed into unknown places, Archer Malone’s perfect, green stare meets mine underwater. His playful smile and his boyish charm.
He makes it impossible to be anything but content when he’s around. Impossible to be anything but happy.
His chest cushions mine, warming me though the water is chilly. He somehow maintains control. And when I think my lungs might explode from disuse, he only reaches out and tucks locks of floating brown hair behind my ear.
Yeah. Okay,I’m forced to admit.I love you, too.
ARCHER
Time passes differently when you’re in paradise. The days are faster, and yet, somehow slower. The constant movement of a workday is gone, and the routines one adopts to carry a tired body through the motions dissipates.
Minka and I live our lives back in Copeland. We do the job, and we find justice for those who’ve been wronged. But with that mission comes a kind of autopilot that sucks our lives away, so before we know it, days or weeks have passed, and we can’t really identify much of what we did with it.
We worked, of course. And we were together. But the repetition and focus stole our presence of mind. It took our ‘right here, right now’. Which, I’m pleased to know, comes barreling back when you’re sailing on a one hundred and thirty million dollar yacht and someone else is in charge of the menial stuff.
There’s no cooking for us. No cleaning. No coffee machine to slave over at the break of dawn unless we specifically want that pleasure. There’s no checking in with our colleagues. And there’s definitely no going our separate ways when her work calls her to the George Stanley and mine brings me to the precinct.
Honeymoon life isthelife.
“Hey, Archer?”
I glance away from the television on our third night aboardThe Cod Father—thank fuck Minka has yet to read that part of the vessel yet—and meet her bedtime eyes. The hooded look she gives me. The lazy smile and half-open dressing gown.
The shoulder of her gown has fallen, revealing perfect olive skin that has colored a little more since we’ve been away, and because of the way the fabric droops, the slit extending over her legs is open too, giving me a delicious tease of long, strong thighs.
She’s still my siren, even after all this time.
Tossing the remote so it lands on the mattress with a thud, I turn on the bed and give my wifeallof my attention.
“Yes, honey?” I flash a playful smile, knowing she’s come to me with this sex kitten act for a reason. She’s trying to play with me, it’s easy to tell. So I willingly walk into her net and wait for the axe. “You look snuggly.”
“I do?” She glances over her bare shoulder, almost resting her lips on her sun-kissed skin. “Hmm.” Lazily, she brings her focus back to me. “I was thinking, since we’re not so far from the islands now, we could head in tomorrow. Go for a day trip.”
