Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Did he say…love? Did you hear that? Did I hallucinate that? Is this a lack of food hallucination again?
“But you wanna fucking fight, sweetheart? Fine. Let’s fight.”
Instantly regretting that choice of words.
“How the fuck could you not tell them about us?” He folds his arms protectively across his chest once more. “And why haven’t you?”
Guilt settles back into my expression.
“Give me a bullshit excuse that I can poke holes in. Tell me it’s because you don’t see them very often when you never see them less than three times a week. Tell me it’s because it hasn’t come up in a conversation, when your mother clearly brought it up tonight, giving you an opportunity to tell her that you don’t need to be fucking set up anymore! That you have a man in your life that gives you the shit you need! No, I don’t have a fucking sportscar – or any car for that matter – and I can’t give you diamonds for our fucking anniversaries and have to put up birdhouses in the Brandts fucking backyard to earn a few bucks just to buy you a salted caramel mocha on a Sunday, but I am fucking here for you! I am here for everything you fucking need!”
“You are!”
“Then why the fuck are you so ashamed of me?!”
“I’m not ashamed of you!”
“Then why the fuck am I this dirty little secret?!”
“Because you’re mine!”
The shouted answer causes bewilderment to bulldoze his face.
“Because I know the second they fucking know, you’re not just mine anymore, Archer. Our relationship isn’t just ours. It’s then up for discussion every…fucking…time…I see her. And she’ll nitpick. And then scold but think that she’s helping. And then she’ll start in on the when are you proposing, when are we getting married, when will she finally have a grandchild of her own. Me not telling her has nothing to do with you and everything to do with not wanting to put myself through more of that bullshit.”
“And your dad?”
“Background checks. We’re talking more than just the basic running your name through a database. He’ll look up phone records. Medical records. Tax information. Ex-girlfriends – or in that one case ex-wife. Insurance reports. And this is all before he quizzes you like you’re in an interrogation room for the first-degree felony of dating his only daughter.”
A hint of terror flashes in his green gaze.
“Yeah, I love my dad – like totally daddy’s girl, you know this – but the man gets a lot overprotective when I’m serious with someone. The fact he hasn’t done any of those things yet is a miracle. We’re talking real growth.”
The corner of Archer’s lip twitches like it wants to smile. “You’re sure them not knowing about us has nothing to do with the facts that I’m homeless, jobless, and mentally unstable?”
“You are not homeless.” My arms wind around his midsection. “You are not jobless.” I let my fingers fold at the small of his back. “And no one in my family is mentally stable – self included – so you fit right in.”
Laughter bounces his body, frame thankfully melting under my grasp.
“I love you, too, Archer. And if telling my parents is that important to you-”
“It is.”
“Then we can have them over for dinner on Sunday and tell them. You can cook – demonstrating to my mother what a keeper you are – and then show my dad around at all the shit you’ve fixed or installed. I’ll make arrangements tomorrow while you’re in with Dr. McMahan.” He lets his hands run the length of my arms until I unwrap myself for our hands to connect. “I’m proud to have someone like you in my life, baby. Never. Doubt. That.”
Archer leans in closer and sweetly whispers, “And you never doubt that I love you.”
Feeling the warmth in my stomach spread pushes to me challenge, “Then make love to me.”
The unexpected declaration drops his jaw.
“Right here…” I gently tug him towards the couch. “Right now.”
Seeing an argument forming in his expression prompts me to pounce his parted lips. Roll my tongue around his. Detach one of my hands to caress the outside of his cock over his jeans.
All it takes is a harder grab to get him pulling away on a groan, “Fuck, sweetheart. It’s been a long time. I’m don’t know if I can give you the slow, gentle bullshit you’re asking for.”
“The only thing I’m asking for, Archer, is that you do everything possible to have me coming from this moment until first thing tomorrow, and I only say that because I know we gotta stop for you to make us coffee and you to go to therapy.”
Having his own words tossed back at him works better than I hoped.
We go from standing to lying down only a smidge faster than we go from being clothed to naked. Torrid, teeth filled kisses are scattered across both sides of my elongated neck along with deep, guttural groans that mercilessly vibrate my entire body. Pleasure from the pain and pressure continuously curls my figure up to his. My hardened nipples repeatedly crash against his chest, needily moaning louder during each collision. Cries grow deafening for more contact. For the right contact. I wind my toned legs around his hips and use my ankles to encourage him to go where I want him rather than to keep prolonging the inevitable.