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I can’t fucking wait to be inside you.
God, I melt just remembering how dark his voice had sounded, the way he whispered those words close to my ear, his hands all over my body.
A shudder moves through me and I let loose a frustrated huff, then proceed to take a long shower in the hopes the hot water will wash away all of my useless and overwhelming feelings for a man I have no business feeling anything over.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work. Considering I’m in Archer’s house after being in his arms the night before, he permeates everything.
I both secretly love it and openly hate it.
I get dressed quickly, pulling my wet hair into a low ponytail with a band I found in the bottom of my purse. Slicked on some lip gloss because that’s all the makeup I brought with me.
No one’s called me, no Gage, no Archer. No one has even knocked on my door, and finally curiosity gets the better of me. I open the door and peek my head out, glancing left, then right, but the hall is empty. Gage’s door is closed. The house is quiet—it’s like I’m staying in a museum or something—and I step fully out of the room, contemplating going to knock on Gage’s door.
What if he’s still sleeping? It’s already past nine and Gage isn’t one to sleep in. Deciding I need to know what’s up, I approach the door and knock, stumped when he doesn’t answer. No way can he still be in bed. And if he is, what a total bum.
“He’s outside, waiting for you.”
I jump and turn at the sound of Archer’s deep voice, surprised to find him standing in the middle of the vast hallway. Like a ghost, he magically appeared. And what a good-looking ghost he is too. He’s dressed in jeans and a black polo shirt, his dark hair is still damp, as if he just came out of the shower, and oh wow, he looks amazing. I’m filled with the urge to take him by the hand, drag him back into my bedroom, and strip him. Run my hands all over his delicious body. Ride him into oblivion.
Stop!
“Oh.” I can’t come up with anything better to say so I don’t.Ridiculous how I thought a little sex between two age-old friends—acquaintances, really—would be no big deal, but it’s like the giant elephant filling the entire house, sitting directly between us. I meet his gaze and all I can do is remember how close his face had been to mine a few hours ago as he thrust deep inside my body. How I craned my neck and met his mouth with mine, our tongues sliding against each other’s.
Yeah. This is... awkward.
“We’re leaving for Hush soon. Are you ready?” His velvety smooth voice sends shivers running over my skin, and I press my lips together, searching for composure.
So far, I can’t really find it.
“I need to grab my purse.” I gesture toward the open door, then let my hand fall helplessly at my side.
“Did you sleep all right?” His question is innocent and courteous considering I’m his guest. But he mentions sleep, which makes me think of a bed, and then I’m remembering how he was in my bed and how fantastic he felt between my legs.
“I slept fine. Great,” I lied. “Um, thank you for the clothes.”
“You’re welcome. You like them?”
“They’re... perfect.” I frown and he does as well. “How did you know my sizes?”
“I took a wild guess.” He said this with a shrug, looking a little sheepish. This of course makes me skeptical. Just goes to show how well Archer knows his way around the female body when he can guess my size accurately.
My gut clenches at the realization.
“Oh.” I’m at a complete loss of words. His explanation makes perfect sense. Our being together makes absolutely no sense. Clearly, we made a huge mistake. And now we’repaying the price with the awkward silences and uncomfortable vibe between us.
“I’ll get my purse and then I’ll be ready.”
“Meet us out front then?” He smiles at me, but it’s grim. And it doesn’t quite light up his eyes.
“Yes. Give me just a second.” I nod once, shooting into the bedroom the second he turns away from me.
Going to the bed, I sit on the edge heavily, chewing on my thumbnail as I give myself a mental pep talk.
You can handle this. So you’ve seen him naked. So what? And you know what he looks like when he comes. Big deal. Focus on the old days. When he used to be such a jerk to you and treated you so terribly. Remember how you felt last night at the reception, when he first talked to you and called you “chicken.” Jerk. Yeah, he irritated the crap out of you. Hold on to that feeling. The Archer-Bancroft-drives-me-out-of-my-mind-he’s-such-an-asshole feeling.
Forget all about the Archer-Bancroft-drives-me-out-of-my-mind-when-he’s-kissing-me-senseless-and-fucking-me-into-oblivion feeling. That is so the wrong feeling to hold on to.
Picking up my purse, which I left on the bed, I stand, tug at the hem of my new, cute T-shirt, smooth a hand over my hair, and decide to go face my reality.
