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His chuckle vibrated right through my body. He dipped his head and captured a nipple.
I bit my lip to hold back a cry. I’d had no idea nipples could be so sensitive until the first time I’d been with Archer. It was like he’d programmed them to instantly respond only to him.
“I fucking missed these,” he growled.
I stuffed my fingers into his hair and rolled my hips, encouraging him to continue stroking us to another spectacular orgasm.
“You mean the world to me, you know that?” He licked across a nipple, and a shiver racked my body. He did the same on the other side, taking turns until I was a shaking, quivering mess. “There’s nothing I won’t do for you.”
Except give up his life in Texas. And it was unfair of me to ask when I wouldn’t give up my life here. Archer was an optimistic idealist. I was a realist. I’d known that as soon as I met him. I couldn’t shake the last eighteen months or the year before that, when Archer had showed me everything I thought I couldn’t have.
So, I gave myself tonight. I could pretend for one night that our marriage would end in something other than a severing of our vows.
* * *
Archer
When Delaney slept, she was all in.
I lay on my side and watched her. It’d be creepy if I wasn’t married to her.
Her mouth was partially open, her hair fanned around her and tangled on itself, and her cheeks still had a freshly fucked glow.
So much sex.
I’d topped my record. The last orgasm was damn near painful, but I had flung myself into it. As long as I could still get Delaney to climax, I was coming too. The force between us last night and into the early hours of the morning had been powerful. Like two comets hurtling into each other.
She had her arms flung out. The position was how she must’ve landed after she’d pushed herself off me, muttered a satisfied “I can’t take any more,” and passed out. I had just dragged her into my arms before I succumbed to exhaustion.
How long had it been since I’d ridden all day, set up camp, and had sex all night long?
Never. By the time I had met Delaney, I’d been twenty-seven. All my schooling was done, and I was immersed in the world of commissions and making partner.
After I’d gotten married, it had been time to propel myself to the next level. I had a wife. Maybe we’d talk about starting a family. Did she want kids? I had wanted to have a more secure future when we first married. I wasn’t going to let my kids grow up hearing about money issues and witnessing all we owned get taken away. But now I had diverse stock, a retirement plan, savings, and a nice place to live. Delaney wouldn’t suffer alongside me like Mama had with Dad.
Delaney sighed, then stretched, her eyes still closed. She had tossed on the green T-shirt she’d worn the night before. Her sports bra was probably underneath one of us. The sleeping bags were tangled, but we’d generated so much heat last night we had only needed them for padding.
Her eyelids drifted open, and a little line pinched between her brows. “Were you watching me sleep?”
“It was adorable.”
A scowl mixed with good humor. “I’m not adorable.”
“Sometimes you are. When you’re not killing-me sexy.” We shared a smile, but hers faded quickly.
I thought I’d have to pry, but she spoke. “Now what?”
“Now, we go for a long ride and have another night of quiet tent sex.”
She wanted to talk more. It was in the furrow of her brow. The concern welling in her eyes. The fear underneath it all. If she asked the hard questions, I wouldn’t have answers. We’d talk ourselves in circles. I didn’t want a repeat of how I grew up, but her idea of the American Dream wasn’t a two-million-dollar condo or downtown Dallas.
Her expression softened. “You haven’t seen Medora yet.”
I grinned to hide my relief. “But first I need to know why all the commercials on the radio are in a Southern accent.”
She laughed, then shot me a playful scowl. “It’s where the West begins.”
“The West. Not the South.”
