15. Wren
FIFTEEN
WREN
My face was against something warm and firm, while something equally strong seemed to wrap around my back, securing me. I opened one eye and saw my bedroom was still gray and mostly dark, but I could make out Archer’s peaceful face as he slept.
His chest rose and fell under my cheek, and I had to resist the urge to trace the bridge of his nose and down along his jaw…over his lips. The same lips that tasted me last night.
The memory returned in a rush, like liquid heat activating in my veins, burning all throughout my body. I chose not to focus on the way his hands held my thighs against his face or how he expertly licked and sucked my nipples while I rode him into orgasmic oblivion.
No, I was focused on the gentle way he’d braided my hair and seemed to pick up on the fact that talking about my brother affected me. Archer was more considerate and far more careful with me than I’d ever been handled by a man. Yet, when his hands cradled my thighs or his mouth tasted me, he wasn’t gentle at all, and the contrast between the two actions was something new that I never knew I’d crave at some point.
My thoughts faded and tangled, and I came to a rushing halt when I heard the little giggles of two five-year-old boys near my bedroom door.
Oh shit.
I tried to sit up, but Archer’s arms were like steel around me.
“Archer!” I whispered, and I instantly felt his hips press forward, his morning erection pushing against my stomach. I had to bite down on my lip and ignore it because I wanted nothing more than a repeat of last night…and, honestly, more. I really wanted to have sex with him, but I wouldn’t push it since he had made such a stark stance against it.
“Mmmm.” He buried his face into my hair while sliding his hand down to my ass and gripping my left cheek hard. It felt so good that I let out a breathy gasp while trying to detangle our bodies. Archer’s hips continued to press into me while he held me, and suddenly his lips were tracing my collarbone and up my neck.
“Archer, wake up. The boys are up.” I slammed my eyes closed, trying again, desperate now because if he started touching me, I would begin to shamelessly ride him. But having the boys not see him here was important to him. Doing this, whatever we were doing, and establishing it the right way, seemed paramount, and I didn’t want to do anything to ruin that.
The man under me seemed to freeze when another, much louder lilt of laughter echoed outside the room.
“Is your door locked?” Archer’s husky voice was close to my ear, and I loved how gritty it sounded. I’d love to feel that skate against my thighs on another morning just like this, but with an actual plan in place to ensure no one was able to sneak in and see us.
“No. I always unlock it before I sleep because I worry about Cruz. Last night, I nearly forgot, but sometime in the night, I slipped out of bed and flipped the lock when I remembered.”
“Well, shit. Will he come in here?”
“I doubt it because Kane is here, but if he’s hungry…”
Archer started to move, sliding out of the bed and dropping to the floor on silent hands and feet. I withheld a laugh while I watched him tiptoe over to my door and quickly flip the lock. Then he dipped to grab his jeans but seemed to pause near my standing mirror.
With gentle hands, he plucked my postcard out and inspected it.
“Why do you keep this here instead of on your fridge?”
My heart seemed to leap into my throat as I watched him hold one of my silly, meaningless dreams in his hands, so easy and carefree, as if he were curious why it was bound to the mirror instead of tethered to my heart.
“My father was a horrible man, and I have very little love or care for the fact that he passed…but back when I was a kid, when I used to look up to him and miss him, I had always wished he’d think of me on his trips. Yet, each time he returned, he’d merely pat my head or give me a quick kiss, but there was never any indication that he’d cared or even missed me. Until this one time, this one, long trip.”
“He’d been gone for weeks, and when he’d returned, he handed me this postcard, while telling me a story. He talked about how he visited this place, and while he walked along the sand and looked up at billowing white curtains in one of the villas, it was like he saw me there. He told me how he’d pictured this beautiful life for me, full of sunshine, warmth and fairy tales. He spoke of regret, how he’d wished he’d been a better father to me, how I was everything he’d ever hoped for when he was young and imagined being a dad. He said I was special to him, not just a jewel in his crown, but I was the crown. For whatever reason, he said that town, that place he went, made him reflect on all that. He told me to always remember I deserved the unrealistic, outrageous sort of life, where I’m loved and cherished.”
My throat felt thick, remembering the one and only kindness my father ever showed me.
“That was the only gift he’d ever given me.”
Archer glanced at me, then the image on the postcard. “Cabo San Lucas?”
It seemed silly when he said it out loud. My dad probably just found me an easy tourist gift and made up some elaborate story while he was vacationing in some resort, likely cheating on my mother. But, to the little girl inside me, it was the fact that he’d thought of me, and the picture he’d painted for me was a beautiful life. One I had hoped to one day have, no matter how outrageous it seemed.
“Have you been then?” Archer walked closer after tucking the image back into the frame. He buttoned his jeans and pulled his hair back into another little bun at the nape of his neck.
I shook my head. “I can’t even get to Montana. I definitely haven’t gone to Cabo.”
His lips twitched while his knee pressed into my mattress. His hand slid along my jaw and into my hair.
“You’d look good in Cabo, beautiful. I think I need to see that at some point in my life, you, on that beach, wearing a bikini, looking back at me while you walked along the sand, knowing that moment had been etched into your chest.”
My heart skipped a thousand beats as his blue eyes locked on me and his lips brushed against mine. Heat and skin slid against each other as I lost myself in his steady eyes and allowed the rhythm of my heart to mirror his, wishing I could somehow tuck it away in his chest and ask if he’d carry it for the duration of my life. I’d never had anyone tell me they wanted my heart or were in love with me. Matthew and I had been together as a couple, but it had only been a few months before he went to prison.
A lonely, painful reminder seemed to balloon in my chest that I had gone through my life without being told that I was loved. My mother had said it to me growing up…Leo had even said it a few times after they married. Juan had said it; surely, he had. Why couldn’t I remember if my brother said he’d loved me?
Archer’s mouth moved to my ear as his hands traveled down to my hip, which broke me out of my thoughts. He was here, he was real and he’d continued to show up…he brought me flowers. He asked to come in last night, and he wasn’t just here for sex. This meant something to him. I meant something to him.
As if he could hear my racing thoughts, he whispered, “Come with me this weekend.”
“What?” My hands went to his wrists, trying to hold him in place so he wouldn’t leave me. The boys laughed in the living room, but I could hear a cartoon playing, too.
Archer’s gaze searched mine as he swallowed.
“There’s a family barbeque for club members. We’re riding out to a big state park. There’s stuff for the kids and a great view…” His forehead pinned mine as he seemed to struggle for words. “It’s a good way for you to meet my club.”
Didn’t that seem like we were serious then? Maybe we were. I felt serious about him and how he treated me; it felt like this was real for him. Something told me his no-sex thing came from a very serious place, and I just needed to trust him and let him show me.
“I thought you had to take Kane back.”
His fingers found mine, intertwining ours together. “I’ll ask if I can have him longer.”
I liked the idea of riding with him into the city, taking the boys, and seeing this piece of his life, but then I remembered one of them running through my fence.
Turning him down was on the tip of my tongue, but instead I asked him. “Will they behave like they did at your house?”
I felt him smile, even if I couldn’t see his features due to our position. “No. They’re never like that when families are around. Old Ladies, kids, even Moms and extended family come out. No bunk bunnies or Sweetbutts.”
He pulled back so I could see his face and how his lips tugged up.
“Those are the ones who aren’t patched to members, right, with property something?” I tried to remember what he’d said about that.
His smile was sweet and perfect. “Exactly.”
That meant he was making a statement by taking me. And he was making it to his club, not just a few friends.
Still, I couldn’t find enough reason to turn him down. The weather was nice, the kids would love it, and I wanted to be seen on his arm. I wanted women like Lydia and her sister to see me and know that Archer wasn’t available.
My gut sank. Fuck that meant I’d already placed him in my head as my boyfriend. Someone who would be loyal to me and monogamous.
“You’re overthinking it, beautiful.” Archer kissed my lips as the boys got louder, coming down the hallway. He glanced at the door, then rose above me, about to leave.
I inhaled a cleansing breath. “Yes. We’ll go.”
Archer moved to the door and smirked at me from over his shoulder. “I know.”
He was about to leave without a shirt, which jolted me up. “Do you want the shirt? You have nothing to walk back home in.”
His gaze narrowed. “No. It’s yours. I’ll be back in a few after I go shower.”
I watched his muscles shift as he slipped out my back door. One of my neighbors was definitely going to see him and speculate that he was doing the walk of shame, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. Let them see him. Let them know he’s mine.
My stomach flipped at the idea of truly belonging to him and, likewise, him to me.
Perfect.
Two seconds later, someone tried to turn my doorknob. I slid out of bed and pulled on a pair of sleep shorts before flipping the lock. Right as I swung the door open, I yelled, “Boo.”
Cruz and Kane both brought their hands up to their mouths in a giggle fest. I walked past the two of them toward the kitchen, trying to shake the feeling that I’d slept with a man last night but truly just slept. There was something infinitely more intimate about just being held by someone all night than just fucking.
“How did you boys sleep?” My hands moved independently, grabbing a flat pan and a large mixing bowl.
Cruz slid onto the stool first. “Good.”
Kane followed his lead to the second stool. “I had a dream about a magical toilet.”
Cruz laughed, and the two started a whole conversation about what a real magical toilet could do while I mixed ingredients for pancakes.
I cracked an egg into the bowl when Kane tilted his head at me. “Hey, my big brother has that same shirt.”
Oh shit. Archer had been wearing this shirt at dinner last night.
“Oh really?” I moved away and grabbed the melted butter, adding it in.
Kane’s keen eyes continued to inspect me.
“Yeah…it even says his name, just like his shirt.”
My face was on fire because how on earth had I missed that his T-shirt had his name on it. I was too nervous to look down, but after a second, I just gave in and pulled the shirt away from my chest, inspecting it.
It was black with white lettering and carried the club insignia for Mayhem Riot. A few other symbols and words made no sense to me, but along the rib cage, in white ink, was printed “Archer.”
There was no way of getting out of this, but I would try.
“I think I got this as a gift from the club when they broke the fence…maybe they made several with his name on it?”
Kane merely shrugged and spun on his stool to watch the cartoon Cruz had picked out.
My heart felt like it was in my throat from the lie, which only brought back the reality that this thing between my neighbor was getting out of hand. Twenty minutes later, Archer came to the door, lightly knocking. Kane asked if he could open it, and when I gave him the okay, he excitedly greeted his brother.
Archer’s gaze was down, listening to Kane until he walked in, and blue eyes landed on me. The pancakes were done, and we were about to eat, but he looked at me, standing in his shirt as if I were the meal.
“Hi.” His smile stretched along his handsome face as he drew closer. He had showered, and seeing his wet hair was doing things to me.
“Hi.”
He slid out one of the stools and sat while nodding toward my chest. “Crazy, I have that same shirt.”
Kane smacked his forehead like his brother had misspoke. “I already told her that.”
“Is that right?”
I brought the dish towel up to hide my laugh while Archer watched me, shaking his head with a full smile.