Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I knew we needed more security but bringing up that argument with Archer, who doesn’t seem to be capable of focusing his vision right now, probably wouldn’t have gone over well.
I reach down for him, tugging on his arm until he’s standing.
I wish I was stronger right now. Physically because he’s not small enough for me to sweep up into my arms, and I know in the aftermath of all of this, he’ll appreciate that fact because he never wants to be seen as weak. Emotionally because I feel like I’m fucking falling apart with how broken the man looks.
“Come on,” I tell him, sliding my arm around his back and slowly walking him to the waiting limo. “Almost there.”
I want to bark at the limo driver when he opens the back door for us, but the man wasn’t hired to assist in security. I can’t really get mad that he stood by and didn’t offer a hand.
“Hey,” I say, cupping Archer’s jaw when we settle in the back. “What hurts?”
He looks away from me. “Everything. It all hurts.”
“Take us to the hospital,” I tell the driver when he climbs behind the wheel.
I keep my eyes on Archer, not paying any attention to the photographers still bumping their cameras against the darkened glass of the limo.
“I don’t need the hospital,” Archer argues. “Take us to the hotel.”
“Archer. We—”
“I’m fine,” he snaps, but his lies begin to streak down his cheeks.
“To the hotel,” I tell the driver before hitting the button to raise the privacy screen.
My stomach is in knots, seeing how upset he is. I’m used to his anger and irritation, used to him being flirty and a little devious. I don’t know how to handle the tears falling from his eyes.
“Tell me what to do,” I beg.
His eyes find mine. His sorrow is palpable, so when he moves, straddling my lap, I don’t even attempt to stop him.
I know how he’s feeling. I felt the very same way the night I showed up on his doorstep after agreeing to lie about being the father to Jules’s baby.
He presses his lips to mine, the familiar curve of them salty from his tears. When his tongue seeks entrance, I grant it immediately, holding onto his back like a life preserver in the middle of an ocean storm.
“I miss you,” he whispers against my lips.
I could argue because we’ve seen each other every day. The man has kept us busy with menial trips out of the house, but I also know that he’s not talking about proximity.
I fucking ache with missing him despite being near him every day. If anything, it makes that pain even more acute.
“I need you,” he pants before diving back in for another kiss. “I want you in my life.”
I cling to him tighter. He’s not joking or teasing. These are his truths, and it’s as if he’s right inside my head, because they’re my truths too.
I’m so fucking tired of fighting, exhausted from being around him every day and pretending he has absolutely no effect on me. It’s fucking killing me, and I’m ready for it to wash away.
By the time the limo pulls up outside the hotel we booked for the night, Archer is calmer, his nose nestled in the crook of my neck. I never want him to pull away, but we also can’t stay like this forever.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I urge, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
He nods, sniffling, as he pulls back.
I press my lips to his, assuring him that climbing out of this car won’t change what’s happened while we were inside of it. This isn’t a lapse in judgment for me, and I hope he feels the same way.
I hold his hand when we exit the vehicle, and keep our fingers locked together through the lobby, and also the entire elevator ride up to our rooms.
“Mine or yours,” I ask once we step off the car because we booked separate rooms when we arrived.
“Mine,” he says, digging in his back pocket for the electronic keycard.
I don’t exactly know what he needs, but Archer doesn’t waste a second stripping down to his boxers once the door closes behind us. I do the very same, keeping my underwear on.
A few minutes later, we’re simply wrapped around each other, our embrace interrupted periodically with soft brushes of our lips against each other.
We spend hours doing this—snuggling, kissing, breathing each other in. It’s as if we’ve come to some silent agreement that this is exactly what the other needs. We ignore our hard cocks and just live in this perfect moment.
“I was thinking about staying here for a while,” he says, and it startles me awake.
I hadn’t realized I’d begun to drift off.
“I hate California,” I mutter, pressing my lips to his temple.
“You haven’t seen any of the good stuff I bet. I can show you around.”