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I step out of the shower, pulling a towel around me, and look at myself in the fogged bathroom mirror. There are small bites on my neck and chest where Archer’s teeth have left marks. I run my fingers over them, marveling at how they make my stomach clench in renewed lust. Just thinking about him leaving those marks on me for others to see has my pussy slick with need.
I should have guessed that Archer would be forceful in bed, but it still came as a slight shock. I had never even had a fantasy about rough sex before. Now I’m not sure I want to go back. If he’s ruined me for other men, I’m going to be pissed. It’ll be a long, horny existence without that kind of sex in my life.
I dry my hair and then slip the UCSC tee shirt I bought earlier today over my head. I can’t help but smile to myself, remembering Archer’s face when he opened the door and saw me tonight. He looked stunned. I was a little nervous about the dress. I would never normally wear white, it’s obviously not a slimming color. But sometimes, when you’re a plus size girl, you take what they have in stock. I was happy to see he obviously appreciated it.
Turning off the light, I slip between the high thread count sheets of the king-size bed. I toss and turn, trying to get comfortable, but the huge bed seems so cold and empty. I wish Archer had come back to the room with me. If his new withdrawn attitude is any indicator, this is a one-time thing, and we only had tonight. But couldn’t we have made tonight last a little longer?
A few hours pass and I still haven’t managed a single second of sleep. I’m staring up at the ceiling and wishing I was at home in my own bed right now. Or even better, Archer’s bed.
Stop it, you silly idiot. He obviously doesn’t want you there.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts by a tapping sound coming from somewhere deeper in the room. It almost sounds like a knock, but it’s not coming from the room’s entrance.
Tap, tap, tap.
I scramble out of the bed as quickly as I can and my legs tangle in the sheets, almost sending me face first into the ground. What the hell is that noise?
My breath catches as my eyes scan the area immediately surrounding me, looking for some kind of weapon. Oh god, what if it’s a rat? I will definitely scream.
Grabbing the hotel provided curling iron from the bedside table, I slowly tiptoe deeper into the darkness. What the fuck am I going to do with a curling iron? And why the hell didn’t I grab my phone flashlight? Oh, it’s because I’m too scared about the possibility of meeting Remy from Ratatouille up close and personal to think straight.
Tap, tap tap.
I almost jump out of my skin because this time the sound is coming from directly next to my ear. Stumbling back a few steps, I catch myself before crashing into an end table with a lamp perched on it. I put a hand over my heart, hoping to calm down the erratic beating in my chest. There’s a dim outline of a door to my right that I didn’t even realize was there.
I map out the suite in my head and realize this door must be the one to Archer’s adjoining room. Fireworks go off in my lower belly just thinking about him.
I’m about to open the door when I realize I’m annoyed with him. He ditches me in the hallway as soon as we get back and then comes knocking at my door in the middle of the night? We may have had a one time fling, but I amnota booty call. Hell no!
I unlock the door and fling it open, ready to lay into Archer when I catch sight of him. He’s so large he’s filling the entire doorway. The only scrap of clothing on his body is his pair of boxer briefs, and I suddenly have the urge to drop to my knees in front of him and slide them down his thighs.
Before my mind wanders too far, he lurches forward into my room. He’s looking at me with those whiskey brown eyes that are simultaneously exhausted and a little wild and unfocused. His brown hair is messier than I’ve ever seen it, like he’s been running his fingers through it for hours. It only takes him a few steps to reach my side, but he doesn’t stop like I expect him to. Passing by me on my left, he stretches out his arm and hooks it around my middle. Before I know what’s happening, I’m being dragged backwards.
“Archer!” I squeal, trying not to fall back onto my ass as he picks up momentum. As soon as my legs hit the mattress, he releases me and crawls into my bed, fluffing the comforter and arranging the surrounding pillows.
I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing and I realize I’m standing in front of him in only a T-shirt. My panties were so wet from earlier I couldn’t even put those back on. I cross my arms across my chest self-consciously, hoping he doesn’t notice that my nipples are hard as diamonds. “What are you doing in my bed, Archer?” My voice sounds a little high and panicked, but I honestly don’t know what’s going on right now. Does he think I’m at his beck and call? Like some kind of sex slave?
He’s propped up on his elbow as he lifts the edge of the comforter and pats the empty sheet beside him. “Come to bed.”
Is he fucking serious? He’s going to order me into my own bed? I always knew he was an asshole, but this is a whole other level. Why the hell did I let him touch me tonight?
Because you’ve never felt pleasure like that in your entire life.Shut up.
“You can’t charge in here anytime you want and demand I fuck you, Archer! I’m not a booty call!” My voice is too loud for the quiet room, but I can’t help it. I’m pissed.
“No, angel. You’re not a booty call,” he mutters. “It would be a hell of a lot easier if you were.” I’m not sure how to reply to that. I’m not even sure what it means.
He’s still laying there, holding up the comforter, patiently waiting when exhaustion finally rolls over me. It’s been an extremely long day, topped off with some delicious sexual escapades. I can’t decode whatever he’s trying to tell me right now. My shoulders sag as I crawl into the bed beside him, laying where he previously indicated but careful that none of my body brushes up against his.
I’m surprised when he lowers his head into the crook of my neck and nuzzles me, sending shivers through my body. His arm snakes forward and wraps around my middle, pulling me backwards so that our bodies are seamed together and I’m tucked in tight against him. His hard erection rubs against my cotton covered ass as I wait for him to take control like I know he will. After a few minutes, I realize that he’s not planning on doing anything with that hard appendage against me.
“You’re not going to fuck me again?” I ask him, more than a little disappointed.
He gives a low chuckle that I almost miss before whispering into my ear, “No angel, I’m going to hold you and we’re going to go to sleep.”
“Oh.” What else am I supposed to say? The man has struck me speechless.
If you had asked me this morning, hell, five minutes ago, if Archer Clarke was a cuddler, I would have laughed in your stupid, stupid face. But here he is, in my room, in my bed, limbs wrapped around my body, breath on my neck. Before I know it, my breathing is synced with his and I can feel myself being drawn into sleep. My last thought before everything goes dark is that I am utterly screwed.
