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I slide my arm around her waist and pull her flush against me. “If you don’t shut your pretty mouth, I’ll fuck it. I still have a lot pent up inside me, and I haven’t gotten laid in weeks, and you can’t keep up.”
She adjusts against my side, producing something like, “Uh-huh,” under her breath.
“And then I’ll fuck your sweet ass to prove my point. So be very quiet, yeah?”
I know she’s smiling as her arm eagerly slides around my waist.
And that’s how we fall asleep. Me thinking about doing just that to her sometime soon. Her considering it in the future.
21
KAT
It’s bright outside.For a change, I wake up happy, because there are familiar arms wrapped around me.
I’m afraid to stir. Archer might get up and leave right away. I just want one more minute, like it’s a dream, and I don’t want to open my eyes in case I got drunk last night and imagined all of what happened.
Archer finally stirs, his fingers brushing against my shoulder. I brush mine across his hand slowly, like I’m half-asleep. His slide lower, his body stirs just an inch, a tense inch that’s an obvious sign he’s turned on. We play this game for a minute until our movements turn into nuzzling each other. Our hands slide lower to the more intimate areas, I shift with my back toward him, pushing my butt against him, and he slides his erection inside me, filling me up, and we both grunt.
We fuck slowly. Don’t say a word. Lie quiet for a minute afterward. It’s not enough. Not by a mile. Won’t be for a while. I feel like I need to get under his skin to be closer to him.
“Just remember what I said yesterday,” he says too seriously for my liking after he takes a shower—Archertakes a shower atmyplace, I’m taking a mental picture of this—and walks up to me dressed in his shirt and sweat pants.
“Remind me,” I tease. “Which part?”
He cocks a brow at me, and I laugh.
“When something bothers you, worries you, makes you angry—you talk to me. We’ll have to talk about a lot of things. And we’re not good at it.”
“We’re okay.”
“You are already avoiding this conversation.”
“Pff. No, I’m not.”
“Your eyes say otherwise, kitten.”
I love that he calls me kitten again. But his voice is not playful. Rather, intense.
“What do my eyes say?” I tease.
“That if you dropped your guard, you and I could make things work.”
“We can make it work if you drop your pants right now.” God, I’m stupidly horny around him. Even the thought of him walking out the door makes me miss him already. And yes, his gaze makes me feel way too vulnerable.
“There you go. That’s not what I was talking about.”
“If you dropped your know-it-all attitude, Archer, I wouldn’t have to have a guard.” I lick my lips, trying to come up with words that won’t make me sound weak. “It’s not about having a good time anymore, is it?” I ask quietly, careful about what I say because we messed around until we realized that we started messing with each other’s feelings.
“It’s not. Hasn’t been in a while.” He’s making me uneasy like he can read my thoughts. “It’s called a relationship.”
Something changed in him after that evening when his world crashed. He is calmer, quieter, less cheerful—understandable. He looks at me differently. It’s too open like he sees something he hasn’t seen before, and it takes him by surprise. He joked before that he has it all figured out. I thought so too. Until the night I almost lost him.
Lost him—just the thought of it sends my mind into panic mode.
So does the wordrelationship,which has never been part of an equation in my life. This is getting too deep. We’re taking the next step, without any tricks, which is a freaking achievement on our part.
What’s happening is amazing, because before Archer steps out, he walks over to me and pulls me into him.
