He looked back at me and turned his body slightly. It was dangerous, he said. I went over and fixed it earlier today. It only took a few minutes.
I breathed out. "Thank you. That was really thoughtful." God, this man. He was going to kill me with sweetness overload.
He simply nodded as if it had been nothing.
When we got inside, he took my hand and led me to the couch and we both sat down. I looked at him expectantly. Looking at this big, beautiful man, with a body many men spent hours at the gym for, sitting in front of me looking so shy and uncertain, was something I could hardly wrap my mind around–and yet it made my heart pick up speed and warmth rush through my veins. He looked slightly uncomfortable, but he took a deep breath and signed, About yesterday… I–
Archer, I interrupted, you don't have to explain. I think I understand–
No, you don't, he interrupted back. He rubbed his hand over his new, short hair. Bree, I'm not… he let out a sigh, clenching his jaw slightly. I'm not experienced with… His eyes bored into mine, shining with intensity. I felt that intensity between my thighs. I couldn't help it, my body reacted to him whether I asked it to or not.
Can I ask you a question? He said, those same red spots appearing high on his cheekbones. God, he was beautiful to me.
Anything.
Did you… want me to kiss you yesterday? Did you want me to touch you? His lips parted slightly, and he watched me for my answer like his life depended on it.
Yes, I said without hesitation. I had played games with guys in the past. Games of flirtation and hard-to-get, but with Archer, I didn't give it a second thought. Complete honesty was the only thing I would give him. I would never purposefully hurt this beautiful, sensitive, wounded man more than he had already been hurt.
He let out a breath on a loud whoosh. I wanted to kiss you, to touch you. I just didn't know… if you wanted that too–
I smiled, looking up at him through my lashes. Archer, I said, taking his hand and bringing it to my heart, which was beating wildly in my chest. "Do you feel that?" I whispered, using my voice since my hands held his against me. "This is how you affect me. My heart is pounding, because I want you to kiss me so badly that I can barely breathe."
His eyes widened, his pupils dilated so large that his golden brown eyes looked dark brown. Something almost palpable passed between us. He looked from my eyes to my mouth and back to my eyes again. I didn't move, instinctively knowing that it meant something to him to take the lead here. I sat still, my eyes roaming to his mouth too. He licked his lips and that small movement sent a spark of electricity straight between my legs. I squeezed them together lightly, trying to relieve the ache that was building there.
Kiss me, kiss me, I chanted in my mind, the tension building so much that when his head finally started slowly moving toward mine, I almost groaned in relief.
He moved toward me, his lips parting slightly, the look on his face a mix between uncertainty and blatant lust. I'd never forget that look–as long as I lived, I'd never forget the sheer beauty of the expression on Archer's face. Next time it wouldn't be the same. Once he had kissed me, his first kiss, this I knew, it would never be the same again. I drank it in, memorized it, made it a part of me. And then his lips reached mine and I did groan, a breathless sound that came unbidden up my throat. His eyes opened and for a second he paused, his eyes growing even darker before he pressed his lips firmly against mine, closing his eyes once more. I closed mine too and soaked in the feel of his soft lips tasting mine, experimenting, brushing softly and then pressing again. After several seconds, he moved his body closer to mine and his tongue swept across the seam of my lips to which I immediately opened, inviting him in without reservation. His tongue entered my mouth tentatively and I used my own to tangle with his. He pressed his body even closer and a small exhale released from his mouth to mine, as if he was breathing life into me. And maybe he was. Maybe he had been all along.
He laid me back gently on the couch, his mouth never disconnecting from mine and he leaned over me, tilting his head. The kiss went deeper as his tongue continued to sweep inside my mouth, mine meeting his in a slow, erotic dance.
And nothing had ever felt more right.
The delirious relief that bloomed in my heart at the feeling of how much I wanted this man above me, kissing me, almost made me want to weep with happiness.
After several minutes, he pulled away, breathless, sucking in air and looking into my eyes. I stared back at him and smiled, but instead of smiling back, he pressed his lips back to mine and brought his hands up and raked his fingers through my hair, gripping gentle handfuls. It felt so good that I moaned again, pressing my h*ps upward into his hard body. I could feel his erection, hard and thick, and I wiggled until it was pressed right where I needed it, the heat of it radiating through the material of his jeans and the thin material of my linen shorts. He expelled another small puff of air into my mouth and I drank it down, knowing that it was a moan that didn't have sound.
He pressed his erection down gently and broke his lips from mine to look down questioningly into my face, to see if I was okay with what he was doing. His gentleness and his concern with what I desired made my heart squeeze tightly, and I smiled a small smile. "Yes," I breathed out. "Yes."
He resumed kissing me and now added the gentle rolling of his h*ps so that his erection moved over my cl*t in delicious circles. I wondered if he knew that the movements that were bringing him pleasure were bringing me pleasure too. I made a point to express what I loved about what he was doing, by panting into his mouth and pressing my h*ps up into him. He adjusted his movements according to my reactions, and the fact that he was so in tune with my own pleasure, sent another bolt of arousal to my core, causing my cl*t to tingle and swell, the blood pulsing furiously there. I thought dazedly how much of this dance between a man and a woman was pure instinct, pure unspoken communication.