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In fact, my body is so primed with anticipation that when Archer’s hand slides up just the smallest of increments, I feel like I’m about to come undone in the back seat of a stranger’s car.
By the time we reach my building, I’m walking on a tightrope, every pore in my body aching with a deep-seated need I didn’t even know was possible until this very evening.
I try to keep my movements calm and my expression relaxed as we make the walk up to my front door, Archer strolling casually at my side.
It isn’t until we’ve stepped inside the confines of my room that the true reality starts to take hold. Archer Copeland...TheArcher Copeland—the man I’ve spent months wishing would drive off a cliff—is standing at the edge of my bed, looking at me like I imagine a predator looks at its prey moments before it pounces.
When he takes a step toward me, the already small room seems to shrink around me, making me feel almost claustrophobic.
Am I really doing this? It’s the only question I can think to ask myself as he takes another step and then another, coming to a stop directly in front of me.
“You seem nervous.” His voice is soft, like a gentle breeze blowing across my cheeks.
“I am,” I admit, my breath hitching when his fingers find the hem of my shirt. “I... Um... I don’t do things like this... Well, ever.”
“Like ever?” He draws back.
“No, I mean, I’ve done it...” I feel stupid for saying. “Just not since high school.”
“How many people have you slept with?” He seems genuinely curious.
“One.”
His eyes widen.
“One? And it was in high school? Am I to understand that you haven’t had sex since high school?”
“I haven’t kissed a man since high school... Until you.”
“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If at any point you don’t want this...” He approaches me even more hesitantly.
“I want this.” I’m quick to cut him off.
Because, well, I do.
I want this like I want my next meal.
He smiles, tugging my shirt over my head in one fluid movement before letting the fabric fall to the floor.
I resist the urge to shrink beneath his gaze, the appreciation in his eyes enough to silence the sounds of my insecurities.
“You’re beautiful. Do you know that?” He leans forward, gently kissing my collarbone.
I jump when I feel his hands at my back, having not expected them there. Seconds later, my bra falls limply against my arms. With no coaxing from Archer, I shake it to the floor.
His lips move with the action, dipping down to take my left breast into his mouth. My head falls back on an unmuffled cry of pleasure as he swirls his tongue around my nipple before pulling the now hard bud through his teeth.
Lowering himself to his knees, his face ends up lining almost perfectly with my chest because of his height. He moves to my other breast almost lazily, like he’s got all the time in the world, repeating the process. Back and forth he moves, sucking and nipping until my nipples ache in the most delicious way. Pleasure and pain—an intoxicating combination that I’ve never experienced before.
I tangle my fingers in the back of his hair, tugging on the silky strands. And when his lips descend farther, licking and kissing the flesh of my stomach, I’m equal parts excited and terrified. I know maybe that sounds strange. Why would someone be terrified when they want something so badly? But I am. Though I’m just not entirely sure what I’m scared of.
Hooking his fingers in the band of my pants, he has them around my knees in one swift pull. Looking up at me through thick lashes, the hunger in his expression is enough to quell my fears. I want this. Maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Sensing maybe he’s waiting for some sort of reassurance, I release his hair, my fingers finding the waistband of my panties seconds later. He watches me slowly slide the material over my hips and down my thighs, his chest rising and falling so fast it’s almost as if he can’t catch his breath.
Funny enough, I know the feeling.
My heart is beating so hard and fast I’m pretty sure it’s knocking a new cavity inside my chest.
