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“You want that?” I hate how hesitant my voice sounds. There’s no playbook for what to do after you let your fake husband watch you make yourself come. Are we supposed to hug after? Kiss? Or do I just slide out of the shower and pretend this never happened?
Archer doesn’t seem to want to give me an option because he softly nudges me deeper into the shower. He stays quiet, reaching for a bottle of shampoo and pumping it into his hand.
“Can I?”
“Can you what?”
“Wash your hair,” he answers, as if his question was obvious. “Clean you up after getting you messy.”
“Technically speaking,Igot myself messy.” I turn around, my back facing him. He walks us directly under the stream of water that comes from the top of the shower. The water beats down on us, getting my hair evenly wet before he begins to lather it against my scalp.
My eyelids flutter shut as his strong fingersmassage my scalp. He lathers the shampoo into the long strands of my hair far longer than necessary.
It feels so good that a low moan escapes my lips. His chest brushes against my back as he chuckles. “Give me the chance and I can find far more fun ways to make you moan,” he comments, humor in his tone.
I smile, stretching my neck back and forth to move his fingers where I want them. “I’d like that,” I confess, imagining what it’d be like to feel all of him.
“I’d like that, too.” He angles my head under the water to wash the shampoo from my hair, but I don’t miss how he cups over my forehead to make sure none of the soapy water gets in my eyes.
“Then let’s do it.” Feeling bold, I back up just a little. The closeness has his length brushing up against my back.
Even through the pouring water, I hear his deep inhale.
He drops my hair, his suds-covered hands finding the small of my waist. He pushes my hips away from him but still keeps a firm grip on my body. “I’d love to,” he tells me, his lips moving against my ear. “Except I’m desperately trying to stick to my word. Trust me, and I’m yours to use how you want, Winnie.”
Turning around, I wrap my arms around his neck. Any other time, I might not be brave enough to put us in this position. I’m used to affection with him in public but not in private. But what we did with each other watching seems to have broken some kind of barrier between us. It doesn’t all feel like pretend, but I don’t allow myself to let it feel perfectly real either. I choose to live in the between—just the now.
“We need to get out soon and get ready for dinner,” I say, changing the subject.
His eyes narrow playfully on me. Leaning down, he places a chaste kiss against my lips. Before he fully pulls away, he nips at my bottom lip slightly. “You’re really going to be the death of me aren’t you, Winnie Bishop?”
I smile. “Not if you’re the death of me first.”
CHAPTER 31
ARCHER
“So I thinkI may have missed the explanation, but how did you two go from yelling at each other covered in icing to dating?” Winnie asks, looking at Pippa and Camden with a soft smile playing on her lips. She leans back, fully snuggling into me to keep warm.
After an extravagant dinner at the Pembroke Hills Country Club, we returned back to the house to sit around the fireplace and talk. I’m not one to typically sit and mingle with friends. Drinks and talking about business? Sure. A poker game with someone interested in investing in Moore Hotels? Easy. But to sit around and chat with friends is out of character for me.
As I sit here with this group of people, I realize that I could easily find myself calling them actual friends and not just people who can be assets to me. Although, my wife is friends with women with very powerful partners. Camden Hunter dominates the art world, and Beckham Sinclair is the future of cybersecurity.
I get so lost in my thoughts I miss the first part of the conversation between Camden and his girlfriend, Pippa, but I tune in to hear enough.
“So basically we fell in love because of a bet. One that Camden lost big-time,” Pippa teases, looking back at him.
Even though he was a year older than me, everyone knew the reputation Camden had as a ladies’ man. Hell, Beck had it, too. It’s new to see them both so deeply in love with their partners. They seem to be thriving in both their careers and personal lives, and it’s something I find fascinating.
I’ve always been under the impression that to have one flourish, the other has to suffer. These two men are proof that isn’t necessarily the case.
“I wouldn’t say I completely lost the bet,” Camden argues.
“You just bought half the town, man,” Beck counters, running his hand through his blond hair. “I feel like you absolutely lost the bet.”
Leaning down, I whisper in Winnie’s ear. I try not to focus on the way her body shivers with the movement. She’s so reactive to me that I want to find out in what other ways her body reacts. “What was the bet?” I ask, wondering if I missed that part of the story.
Emma, who sits right next to Winnie and me, raises her hand. I didn’t think I spoke that loud, but apparently, she has supersonic hearing because she answers. “Oh, I know the answer to that. The bet was that Pippa told Camden he was going to fall in love with Sutten Mountain. You have to visit sometime, by the way,” Emma adds, looking at Winnie and me. “It’s the cutest little town in Colorado.”
