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When you strip away his arrogance, Archer is pure masculinity. He is a beautiful creature who’s already doing many dirty things to me in my mind.
My horny scale just shot up a hundred percent, so I don’t do anything when Archer’s warm breath grazes my ear again.
“Do you want to join them?”
His lips gently pull my earlobe, which makes me want to whimper. I don’t wantthem. I wanthim.
“Or would you like a hand for a quick relief?”
He is a gentleman. What do you know…
I want to say something snarky, but if we were alone, I would have probably fucked him. If he wasn’t so arrogant and, I have a feeling, a misogynist.
I try to sound sarcastic when I say, “Since when are you so helpful?”
It’s a weak comeback. Shit.
“Any time you need a hand,” Archer whispers in my ear. “I am willing to help. I am generous like that.”
His generosity is quite obvious, pressing into my lower back.
For a moment, we stand and watch as the girl starts riding the guy. I can feel Archer’s body pressing harder against my back. Or I am leaning into him. It’s hard to tell, because I am too tense with the need to get off and the anticipation of Archer’s next move.
The girl in the gazebo gets off the guy, turns around, and does a backward cowgirl thing while the guy yanks her top down and grabs her tits.
Their sex-sounds escalate.
My breathing quickens.
My arousal from the sight mixes with the acute awareness of Archer behind me.
I might come just by watching.
Yeah, it’s me leaning back into Archer. And yeah, it’s him bucking his hips at me.
I would never allow an unwanted touch. Not after what happened in Thailand. But Archer is almost cavalier in his slow pursuit. Scratch that. A clever alpha who seduces with a practiced touch, giving just enough for you to want much more.
I need to release tension.
This is my medicine.
Could be my weapon if I play it right.
“We can join in.” Archer’s whisper is like a caress. “You don’t have to be shy about it.”
Oh, I am anything but, babe.
I feel like he is testing the waters too.
His lips brush against my neck. I wish they went other places.
“Shy is not in my vocabulary,” I answer and catch my breath when his hand slides down my arm to take mine, then guides it to the waistband of my shorts.
Ah, thank God for the cotton stretch shorts! The island uniform is made for comfort. And these shorts are absolutely great for handy work.
I let Archer guide my hand into my shorts and panties and slide it between my legs.
Jesus. He is not even touching me, but him making me pleasure myself is so erotic that I melt.
