Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Sighing out a long breath, I change into my pajamas, which are deliberately modest so Colt doesn’t suspect anything if I head downstairs for a snack later. I sit on the edge of the bed, marooned in my own thoughts.
Asshole or not, Archer Rory has good reasons to be closed off.
After all, he’s a single dad, and there are clearly big issues with his ex, even if he won’t talk to me about them.
I can’t stay mad, especially when I was eavesdropping on his private conversation.
Not deliberately at first, but when I realized they were talking about me, yes, I may have slowed down. I hung back around the corner for over a minute.
What girl wouldn’t want to know what her—what the guy she’s crushing on says about her?
It’s not his fault I didn’t like the answer.
And I haven’t even thought about that old-world Kansas City history the Rory family is just marinated in.
It should feel like I’m escaping one powerful aristocratic family just to fall into another, even if the Rorys don’t seem to touch politics.
Groaning, I drop my head in my hands.
Getting involved with a family like his should be at the bottom of my list.
New Winnie, she’s not interested in prestige and politics and names with big reputations.
But the thought doesn’t help.
Even hours later, when I’m yawning and hurting alone, his words still sting.
I don’t know if I can take Lyssie’s excellent advice.
I don’t know if I can ever learn to just turn off my heart and breathe.
I also don’t know I’ve fallen asleep until I feel hot lips on my temple and warm breath dancing down the side of my face.
I stir awake just as Archer scoops me into his lap.
He’s already hard, but his hands are gentle.
“What time is it?” I reach for my phone, but he captures my hand and kisses a finger.
Heat flashes through me.
“Almost eight.”
“What? In the morning?” My eyes flip open and I see the sun glaring through the blinds. “Shit. How did I sleep in so long?”
“Don’t know, but Colt’s out this morning for math class.” Archer kisses me again, his tongue sweeping into my mouth possessively. “I thought we’d make the most of it since you conked out early last night.”
Crap.
From what I remember, when I fell asleep—on top of the covers, apparently—I was still thinking about Archer.
I faded off with some half-assed thought that I should end this before we get more involved and more hearts get broken.
But now that he’s here with his mouth on my skin, I’m much less sure.
The damage he’s done hasn’t made him any less addictive.
I stretch languidly on the bed, relishing the feel of his huge body on mine. He’s here now, and maybe he won’t be in the future, but doesn’t that mean I should enjoy the moment more? Why shouldn’t I make the most of it?
Can’t a girl breathe by having a little fun?
If experience has taught me anything, Archer knows how to enjoy the now without a worry in his head.
Wet and bothered, I shift my weight so I can straddle him properly, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He’s perched on the edge of my bed.
We kiss again, deeply and chaotically.
His cock twitches against me.
“Okay,” I say with a small laugh. “I’m awake now.”
“Feeling better? Your stomach?”
“What?” I jerk back at the concern in his voice before I remember the excuse I gave him. “I’m fine. I just needed sleep.”
“You had it, brat. I missed you last night.” His hands find my butt and squeeze. “And I really fucking missed this.”
God.
He growls it so easily, but I guess to him it doesn’t mean anything special.
Maybe he even feels it in the moment—maybe he did miss waking up in the night to find my ass grinding against him.
The thought makes my throat tight, but I just smile.
“Well, it’s not getting any earlier. You better make up for it now.”
As his arms wrap around me, he stands, and I link my legs around his waist.
We stumble to his room like drunken teenagers, kissing and groping until I can’t breathe.
He definitely can’t see past my curls.
My back collides with the wall, and he tugs at my pajama top until it comes off.
“Much better,” he rasps, bending his head so he can suck my nipples.
My top lies on the floor, forgotten, and I rub myself against him, loving the way his breath comes fast and hard against my bare skin, pelting me with desire.
With Archer, it’s always so raw.
That’s what makes it so good.
It’s never a secret how much he wants me or how much I turn him on, and I’m pretty sure I could come just by looking at him.
When it’s over, I’m going to miss that. A lot.
But I’m not thinking about over now—the only thing that matters is the way he’s touching me, pushing my thoughts from my mind.