Her breath caught as if she desperately wanted to believe him but was afraid to. “I’m not her anymore,” she said quietly.
“Yes, you are. Beneath the veneer, beneath the makeup and pretty clothes and badass sexy shoes, you’re exactly who you’ve always been. You just need someone to remind you.” He tugged her cute little sweater off her shoulders and tossed it to his desk. “Show me,” he said softly.
“Show you what?”
“Show me who you are beneath it all.”
She laughed a little breathlessly. “What, I’m just supposed to put on a striptease for you?”
“Reveal,” he corrected. “Reveal the real you.”
She crossed her arms. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m going to do the same.” He checked the lock on his door and hit the intercom button on the phone on his desk.
“Yes?” Mollie asked sweetly, knowing damn well that she’d sent Elle back here without warning him.
“I’m unavailable until further notice,” he said.
“What if any of the guys need you?”
“If they like their jobs, they won’t.”
“But you have a meeting in fifteen minutes—”
“Unavailable, Mollie.”
Elle stared at him as he disconnected, her arms falling back to her side.
Archer did his best to look like something she couldn’t live without. He must have succeeded because she said, “You seem like a man with plans.”
“I have you all to myself.” Finally. “I do have plans. Big plans.” Plans to make you want to keep me . . .
“You’re . . . flirting with me,” she said, sounding surprised.
“I’ve been in denial about that but yes. I’m flirting with you.”
She continued to stare at him for a minute and then seemed to come to a decision. She stepped back and untied her wrap dress at her waist.
It fell open.
So did his mouth because she was gorgeous in nude-colored, sheer lace and a pair of black fuck-me pumps.
Going up on tiptoe, she kissed him, soft. Slow.
He wanted to crush his mouth to hers and kiss and nibble and suck on every inch of her body, but she was still giving him those teasing little tastes, her breath warm against his face every time she sighed in pleasure. She rocked her hips against his and when she found him hard—which he’d been since she strode into his office to call him out—she hummed in approval.
A groan shuddered through him as she went on like that, torturing the both of them, her breathing becoming more and more labored. His would have done the same, but he wasn’t breathing at all, not even a little bit.
Her hands slid up his back, bringing his shirt with them. “Off,” she said.
Whatever the lady wanted. He yanked it off and had barely tossed it aside when she bent forward to kiss his knife scar, making his heart melt. Then she curled one of her hands around the back of his neck, wrapping the strands of his hair around her fingers as she slowly deepened the kiss, giving him her mouth, giving him everything.
He wrapped his arms around her, keeping his hands pressed against her back, doing his best to let her dictate the pace. Not easy with her tongue in his mouth and her body rocking against his. When they finally broke apart for air, she gestured for him to lose more clothing.
While she waited, he kicked off his shoes and socks and straightened, meeting her gaze. “Your turn.”
She took in his chest and abs, and he was pretty sure her pulse took a good, hard leap as she bent to take off her heels.
“Leave the shoes.”
She straightened with an arched brow. “Really?”
“Oh yeah.”
“You have some catching up to do,” she noted.
Obliging, he unsnapped, unzipped, and stripped out of his pants, leaving him in black knit boxers that did little to hide how hot he found her.
She was staring at that very evidence when she licked her lower lip, prompting him to groan and move toward her, stroking his hands up her torso. When he assisted her bra to the floor, she sucked in a breath.
“Gorgeous,” he whispered, his mouth at her jaw, his hands gliding over her trembling body. “So gorgeous you take my breath away.”
“Finish,” she said, a quiet demand that had him smiling because even when she was down, she was never out. She wanted him naked first and he didn’t have a single problem with that. He shucked the black cotton.
This time her inhale was audible, a low feminine murmur of appreciation.
“Now you’re overdressed,” he said, his mouth at her ear and he hooked his fingers into the scrap of lace masquerading as panties at her hips and slowly drew them down, crouching before her to ease them all the way down her legs. Leaning in, he brushed a kiss across one of her thighs, and then the other. And then a hip. Her belly button.
And then just south of it.
“Archer,” she gasped, her hands going to his hair.
“Right here,” he said, and he kissed her again, this time letting his tongue snake out and stroke. He worked her over, following the clues of her body as her fingers tightened in his hair and writhed against him.
He made her come that way, loving the breathy way she moaned his name. And when her knees gave out he caught her, lifting her to his desk. Sliding his palms up the insides of her thighs, he pushed them open and stepped into the vee of her legs. “One of these days we’ll actually make it to a bed.”
“That will be hard to do since after this we’re going back to staying the hell away from each other.” She sank her teeth into his bottom lip and then slowly let it slide free and kissed him softly, which he felt all the way down to his toes and back.
“Condom?” she whispered.
He froze, eyes locked on hers, wondering how she felt about seeing a grown man cry. “I don’t—Christ.” Had he seriously forgotten about a condom for the first time in his entire life? “We used my emergency stash from my wallet the other night.”
“I see.” She hesitated, eyes on his. “Before that, I hadn’t been with anyone in over two years. I’m on the pill.”
His heart was in his throat. “Two years?” He cupped her face. “Why?”
Her eyes shuttered. “You want to talk about that or do this?”
Good point. “I’ve not done this without a condom . . . ever,” he said.
She rocked against him again, taking him into her hands, giving a playful tug to bring him right where she wanted. Leaning into her, his hands on the desk on either side of her hips, his breath decidedly uneven, he teased them both until she moaned and wrapped her legs around him.
“So what’s the holdup?” she asked, impatient to the end.
Gripping her sweet ass in his palms, he jerked her forward and slid into her.
Their twin gasps comingled in the air and he was pretty sure he blacked out for a minute. “Oh fuck, Elle,” he whispered, only vaguely aware of her nails digging into his shoulders where she was holding on for all she was worth, her head back, her hair brushing his forearms, her throat bared for his mouth. Her lips were parted, her breath came in little whimpery gasps and he felt her clenching tighter and tighter around him.
God. He already couldn’t remember what it’d been like before her. He’d thought everything was great in his life but then he’d been thrown a curveball in the form of this gorgeous, passionate woman who he suddenly couldn’t get enough of.
Which made it official. He was hers, completely. “You’re beautiful, Elle,” he said, pressing tight against her. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
She shuddered, whimpering against his mouth as she came, and while she was still clenching and pulsing around him, he lost himself in her. When he was with her like this, he found himself. It was as simple and terrifying as that.
Chapter 15
#DidIShaveMyLegsForThis?
After, when they were still entwined, hearts pounding against each other as they attempted to recuperate, Elle tried t
o memorize everything about the moment. The way his arms wrapped around her tight, protective, one hand cupping her the back of her head, the other settled possessively on her ass.
It’d been such a bad idea, she knew this, but somehow she always lost focus of that when he touched her the way he did. Things were unbearably complicated between them. Always had been. But not this. This was easy.
And she didn’t know what to do with that.
Hopping off the desk, she gathered up her clothes and escaped into the bathroom connected to his office and stared at herself in the mirror.
She had Hair Gone Wild and her mascara was smudged. Her lips were bare but curved, like she was a woman who’d been well and truly taken care of. Business handled.
That it was true didn’t help. And how was it that he seemed to know her body better than she knew her own? She didn’t know whether to be horrified or amazed.
A little bit of both, she decided as she pulled on her clothes. She smoothed down her dress and stared at herself some more. Wow. Sex was good for her skin—she was glowing.
But it didn’t change the fact that she’d decided to take control of her life. She’d also decided against Archer and yet she’d fallen right back into his bed. What was wrong with her?
One glance in the mirror at the after-sex glow told her what was wrong with her. She was in denial.
Dammit. She hated when that happened.
It didn’t matter. She’d been in worse spots before, far worse, and she’d managed to pick herself up. This time would be no different. Yes, maybe a mistake had been made, a big one, but she’d learn from it if it killed her.
The way she saw it, she had only one choice here, if she wanted to save any face at all. She would gather her dignity the best she could, give him a kickass smile and walk right out the door, playing it as cool as he always did.
Her heart started pounding again at the thought, but she fixed her hair and slid a finger beneath each eye, sweeping away the smudged mascara. Without her purse, she couldn’t do anything about the bare lips and suddenly she felt more naked than she had without a single stitch of anything on her except Archer’s body.
Since that thought made her inner thighs quiver in memory, she turned away from the mirror, took a deep breath, and walked out of the bathroom and back into Archer’s office, heading straight for the door.
Archer was dressed and back to his inscrutable self. “Hey,” he said with a smile. He had his cell phone out. “I’m going to order us some food. What do you feel like?”
A mess. She felt like a mess. “Can’t,” she said.
His smile faded. “Don’t run off, Elle. Give this a shot. Give us a shot.”
Her heart just about stopped. “Us?” she asked in shock. “There is no us. There’s a you. And there’s a me. And okay, so sometimes we get crazy and become a very momentary us but it’s not real.”
“It could be,” he said.
She gaped at him, completely gobsmacked. “You pushed me away for a year.”
“I was wrong.”
She shook her head, unable to process this. “So now what, we live happily ever after?”
“Depends on you. What do you want?”
What did she want? Had he lost his marbles? “Okay,” she said slowly. “I thought you were kidding but now you’re scaring me because I don’t think you are.”
“I’m not.”
Who was he and what had he done with Archer? “Is this so we can keep having time-outs that involve naked time?”
“God, I hope so.” He barely caught her when she whirled for the door. “Elle, wait. I’m serious.”
She searched his gaze. “You expect me to believe your feelings changed just like that?”
“Well not just like that.” He flashed a smile. “You wore me down over time.”
“This isn’t funny, Archer.”
“You’re right, it’s not. You need time and we have that. Take all you need. You free tonight?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll pick you up,” he said. “We’ll try the date thing.”
Her phone rang and she looked down at it. It was maintenance, reminding her she had a meeting with them. “I have to take this.”
“It’s okay.” Archer leaned in and kissed her gently. “After work, Elle,” he murmured, and then he walked out of his office, giving her some space.
Elle locked herself in her office, brain going a hundred miles an hour. She paced the small space, unable to decide on a feeling. Shock and panic worked, she decided. She purposely changed gears to problem number two by pulling out her phone and sending a text to Morgan.
Meet me at O’Riley’s in fifteen minutes.
Forget Archer and the fact that he knew her better than anyone else. Forget the amazing orgasms or how he always had her back. She needed to forget all of it for a few minutes and give herself some breathing room.
Instead she’d concentrate on her sister. If anyone was going to help Morgan, dammit, it’d be her. She headed downstairs.
“Hungry?” Finn asked when he saw her.
“Starving.”
“What do you want?”
“Everything you’ve got,” she said as she slid onto a stool next to an already seated Morgan.
“Worked up an appetite today, huh?” Finn asked.
If he only knew . . .
Morgan laughed. “Used to be, she was always hungry. It was like she was hollow.”
True story. Living as they had, three squares hadn’t always been part of the program. There’d been long stretches of time when they’d lived off apples, peanut butter, and Top Ramen.
And just like that, she suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. “Maybe just some tea to start.” She turned to Morgan. “Okay, let’s have it. What is it you really want?”
“I already told you. I wanted to see you.”
“And?”
“And . . . I was hoping you’d give me references, and maybe help me get on my own feet with a place,” Morgan admitted quietly. “But when you weren’t interested, Archer became my Plan B.”
“Archer isn’t your Plan B,” Elle said. “You need to leave him out of this.”
Morgan reached for the drink in front of her and took a leisurely sip. “You know, it’s amazing how potatoes give us chips, fries, and vodka. It’s like get your shit together, every other vegetable, you know?”
Elle narrowed her eyes, wrapped her hand around Morgan’s wrist, and brought the glass under her nose for a sniff.
“It’s 7UP on the rocks,” Morgan said.
Feeling like a jerk, Elle let go and nodded. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”
“No, that was on point.” Morgan met Elle’s gaze. “You’ve got every reason to err on the side of caution with me. I get it, Elle. I really do. But people change. Look at you, for instance—family used to mean everything to you. There was a time you’d have done whatever you could to keep us together.”