Chapter 12
twelve
Bailey
“ S how me.”
Archer tips my chin up with a curled finger. “Clothes off.”
“You, too?”
“You know it, beautiful.”
Stepping barely apart we tug and push and shove until we step out of our piles of clothing. Dear god, he’s beautiful. Lean yet still sculpted, his muscles flex as he pulls me back into his embrace. His body is warm and mine feels perfect against him.
“Bailey, I have to taste you again. My fingers just weren’t enough.”
This isn’t just about the act. This is my redemption. “Show me.”
He crowds me until my calves hit the mattress and he lays me down. Standing back he studies me and I’m tempted to cover myself. He must sense my discomfort and gives a slight shake of his head. Grabbing one of my pillows, he tucks it under my head and shoulders. “Get comfortable, beautiful.
Then he’s on his knees and after pulling me closer, settles his shoulders. between my thighs. Without preamble, his mouth is on me, his tongue parting me to tease my clit. His thumbs spread me open. “My beautiful girl.”
Words are no longer needed as he drives me wild with his mouth, tongue and fingers. Each gasp encourages him. Every whimper brings him back to where I need him. I open my eyes and he’s watching me.
His lips press around my clit and he sucks. Long fingers thrust inside me, curling to stimulate every nerve ending. He pushes my need higher with every touch until I’m panting and a low whine vibrates in my throat. I cup his head then slip my hands to the tips of his ears, tug and pinch as I shatter. He grunts and moves his mouth to my entrance, tongue fucking me as I come.
When the spasms slow, he lifts his head and licks his lips. “Kiss me.”
The demand sets the spirals of my desire tightening again. Oh, this man. I force my limp body to sit, capture his face between my palms and kiss him hard. Lips, tongue, teeth, I pour my emotions into the kiss. I can’t tell him how much I love him. How much I love Archer. Because even though he’s not a rock god, I don’t see any way a relationship would work.
Tickling the upper shell of his crinkled ear, I ease from the kiss and sigh. “Archer.”
A low growl rumbles in his chest. “Scoot up on the bed, baby. I need to be in you.”
“What about pleasuring you?” Not going to lie, I’m dying to feel his cock thrusting deep.
“Fuck, Bailey, that’s all the pleasure I need right now.”
We move up the bed together, scattering the condoms. He grabs one and holds it up to me. I snatch it from his fingers, rip the packaging away and reach for his long, thick erection. I feel his groan vibrating through his cock as I sheathe him.
“I need you bad, beautiful.”
“I want you, too. Don’t wait.”
He positions himself and eases forward, filling me slowly. Completely. We moan together once he’s seated fully. He kisses me then presses his forehead to mine. “Ah, Bailey. So damn good.”
“Better when you move.” I turn my head until my lips are right at his ear and sigh, “Archer.”
His breath catches then as though I flipped a sex switch, his hips move, building speed and force as he thrusts into me. Our tongues duel with the same rhythm. Slick with sweat, our bodies slide together. The escalation of our gasps and groans accentuate the thud of the headboard against the wall.
“Close,” he groans.
“Yes, Archer, yes. Me, too. Come with me, Archer. Archer. Archer. Arr….”
I scream my release. Before the sound fades he shouts my name. “Bailey. Fuck, Bailey, god, yes. Bail—ley.”
We spend the next two weeks in a lover’s haze. Not all of our time is spent in bed. Sometimes it’s on the couch. Or against the walk-in freezer door. Or leaning over the back of a chair. Or in the shower. Or… Archer is inventive and I enjoy every moment we spend together.
He’s helping me with perfecting the mead and I’m starting to teach him about the intricacies of wine making. He gave up trying to teach me how to bake a wild plum tart. I’ve been more successful with his guitar lessons. I’ve always wanted to be able to strum a guitar. At least a few simple chords.
Tonight I’ve finally talked him into playing the music he composed when during his compulsive episode. He’s promised to speak the lyrics as he plays. He really can’t sing at all.
We carry one of Georgia’s dinners—after the first round, she started sending double portions—over to his guest room to share along with a bottle of wine. He’s prevaricating as if he fears I won’t like his songs. I don’t like all of his brother’s music but Archer promises these are slower. Softer. Like ballads or love songs.
I don’t know for sure how much longer Archer will be pretending to be Marcus and hiding out here at the ranch. I really don’t want to know. That would give me an end date for our time together. He has to go back to his life and I have mine here at the winery. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to become involved with what’s essentially a vacation fling. I shouldn’t have, yet I did.
Now I love Archer and I don’t want us to end.
We’re curled together on the couch listening to the silence. I sit up and poke Archer’s chest. “Play for me?”
“Are you sure?”
I pout my lower lip. “You promised.”
He kisses my cheek then with a heavy sigh moves to his keyboard and flips on the power. Once seated he glances back at me. “You ready for this?”
“Yes. Don’t you need the music?”
He taps his temple. “Once I’ve heard it here, transcribed the notes, written the lyrics, I never forget. Every composition lives here. Forever. It’s pretty crowded up here.”
“So do you have like a soundtrack running in your mind all the time?”
His forehead wrinkles in thought. “That’s a good way to put it. Most of the time though, the volume is turned really low. So it barely registers. I can tell you more if you’d like.”
“You’re not getting out of playing for me that easily.”
Shoulders drooping he faces the keyboard again. I stand and shove a side chair into the corner so I can face him while he plays. “There. Now I’m your inspiration.”
“You always are, beautiful.” He places his fingers on the keys and plays a few chords and a long run of notes. Next time I’m going to sit so I can watch his long, elegant fingers fly over the keys. Holding my gaze, he takes a deep breath and begins. How does he play so beautifully without looking at the keys?
The music is slow, and I try to imagine it with guitar and drums in a typical Mars Kane style. I’m not sure it’ll work that way. When it sounds like he’s played the whole thing he starts over. This time he speaks the lyrics. Soft, barely audible above the music but I hear and feel every word.
“When forever ends
hearts clamor to know
Forever isn’t long enough.
Far too soon forever ends.
Hear my song,
while my soul burns.
Yearning for love.
When forever ends
Then will you know?
Loving you now
Forever beyond
Forever now
Until forever ends,
The song of my heart
I sing to you.
Until forever ends.
Until forever ends.”
Ignoring the tears trailing down my cheeks, I rush to Archer. “Oh my god, that’s wonderful. So beautiful.”
“Most of that is the chorus. There’s other verses.”
“I don’t care. I inspired that? How? When?”
“You are and will always be my inspiration.” He stands and wraps me in his tight embrace. “This song came into being the first time I saw you. Each time I was with you another song joined the playlist. Until I couldn’t hold them in any more. You know the rest.”
“All the songs are about me?” I play with the buttons on his shirt. “I don’t understand.”
He hesitates then his tight expression clears as though he’s made a decision. “Yes, every song. And there will be more. My head knows. My heart agrees. Bailey, ah my beautiful Bailey, I love you. I fell hard for you that first night.”
I draw a breath to scoff at his declaration but the honesty in his eyes, the love shining there, makes me consider my own feelings. I can’t express them when I don’t know what the future might hold. When forever might end. “Love at first sight?” I whisper.
“Pretty much.” He grins and strokes my hair.
“Take me to bed, Archer.”
We spend the night making slow, passionate, mind-blowing love, searching for our own never ending forever.
The next morning I need to start a process in the winery early in the morning so it’s barely after sunrise when Archer walks me out to the small porch in front of his guesthouse and hugs me. I made a decision overnight so I rise to my toes to whisper in his ear. “Archer, I lo?—”
He shoves me behind him then stomps to the edge of the porch. “Who’s there. I hear your camera. Show yourself.”
In the silence after his speech I hear a soft click-whir and a man, holding a camera to his eye stands from the cover of a dense planting and walks toward us, lowering the camera
“Mars, now we know why you’ve been hiding.”
Archer positions himself fully between me and the photographer, spreading his legs and crossing his arms over his chest. Is this the kind of shit Marcus has to deal with? I start to ease around Archer and he lowers one arm to keep me in place.
“You signed the agreement.”
The photographer grins. “I did and I will keep that agreement. No publishing photos or your location for four weeks. That time restriction is over in three days. I intend to scoop the others. These photos will help. The great Marcus Kane, shacked up on a Nebraska ranch. Great copy.”
“Ar—”
He shakes his head and I remember as far as everyone else knows, he is Marcus.
The photographer watches our interaction with interest. “Nice little piece you’ve got there. She’ll make great copy.”
Archer growls and takes a step forward. The photographer chuckles. “But I have a more serious question. Rumor going around says you have a brother. A twin brother.”
“Rumors.” He gives a derisive snort. “There is only one Marcus Kane and you’ve interrupted my retreat.”
“Looks like someone else has been interrupting you. So what’s the status of your relationship?”
“You’ve followed me around enough to know Mars Kane doesn’t do relationships.”
My heart sinks. Despite the song, despite his declaration, how much is Archer like his brother? Once he leaves, are we over? And I almost told him I love him. I’m an idiot.
“What about that woman in Orlando? Claims you professed undying love—before you fucked her.”
Archer jerks then plants his fists at his waist. “I have never told a woman I love her.”
The photographer winks. “At least you never mean it.”
“I suggest you leave. You’ve got your photos. Get lost.”
“About that brother…”
Archer stands taller. “I have no brother.”
Oh my god. His words ring with truth. Did I want him so badly I believed his well-crafted lies? My stomach churns. Why would he lie? He didn’t need to. I would have… fucked him anyway. I don’t know what to believe. Who to believe.
Brody, one of the cowboys who’s been on security detail rides up and tips his hat. “Sorry this one slipped through. Want me to confiscate his camera?”
The photographer wraps his arms around the camera. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I dare a lot when dealing with scum,” Brody replies.
Archer shakes his head. “He can keep it. Damage is done.”
“Then I’ll escort him to his car. Came across it a little bit ago. It’s only about a mile off. Get walking.”
Scowling at Brody, the photographer takes a few steps then turns and focuses on me. “Come find me, babe, when Marcus is done with you. I’ll get you good money for your story.”
Brody’s horse sidesteps and the cowboy plants his booted foot against the photographer’s back. “Move.”
Once they’ve crossed to the main drive Archer faces me. “I’m sorry, beautiful. One of the prices of popularity.”
There’s something in his eyes I don’t understand. I don’t see my Archer there. I see only… Marcus Kane. “Who are you? Tell me the truth.”
“I have, Bailey. I would never lie to you.”
Unreasonable anger builds in my chest. My heart beats hard, throbbing in my temples. This feels too much like when my work was stolen from me. He claimed to never lie. Until with a smile, he lied right to my face. The sinking realization I’ve been deceived again overlays that old, grinning face over Archer’s. Or is it Marcus?
I draw back my hand. The slap echoes in the quiet morning air. Gasping back angry tears, I escape, running toward the only place I belong. But my workroom holds no comfort. My tears are no longer angry. I fear I may cry these desperately sad tears until forever ends.