Chapter 19 #2
Ten minutes later, we left the store with several onesies secured, and me realizing that maybe babies themselves weren’t actually the expensive things.
Maybe it was the parents’ lack of impulse control when it came to cute clothes.
But then again, I hadn’t had the baby yet, so maybe it was a little of both.
When we approached his motorcycle, the one I knew he drove back in the summer, but couldn’t imagine he still drove in the middle of December, I gasped. “You did not ride this here.”
He chuckled. “I did.”
My eyebrows rose in disbelief. “And you want me to get on the back of it? Are you out of your mind? I’m pregnant.”
Glancing between me and his vehicle, he rubbed his hand over the back of his head, as if only now realizing the problem.
“Shit. I didn’t think about it. I—” He stopped himself from wherever that line of thinking was going.
“We can call an Uber, or maybe Shayna can come back and get you? I’m so sorry. ”
The smart thing to do would be to take him up on one of the other options he offered, but it was only a ten-minute drive back to my house and it was all back roads. Plus, a part of me wanted to get on it, and I trusted him.
“Do you promise to drive extra carefully?”
His response was immediate. “Yes. Careful won’t even begin to cover it.”
“Okay. Please don’t kill us.”
He reached for the bag of baby clothes and stuffed it into his backpack, then held out his helmet to me.
Surveying the situation, I realized he only had one helmet. I shook my head. “I can’t take your helmet.”
His eyes narrowed marginally, his voice filling with an authoritative sternness that left no room for negotiation. “Yes, you can. You guys are more important.”
Then he swung a leg over and mounted the seat.
God, why was that so hot? The way his muscular thighs bracketed the metal beneath him had me tempted to wipe a hand over my mouth in case I was drooling.
The visual had my mind falling down a black hole of filthy fantasies. I was no better than a teenage boy.
Stop it.
I quickly shoved the helmet over my head, and got on behind him.
He reached around, his hand landing on my ass, and dragged me toward him, closing the healthy gap I’d left between us.
When he looked back at me, he winked. My heart stuttered in my chest at the contact before kickstarting anew, the rhythm faster than it had been.
“Hold on tight.” Then he started the bike.
And.
Holy.
Shit.
The rumble of the bike had me clenching my thighs around Archer’s hips.
It wasn’t even all that intense, but I was pregnant, my hormones were running rampant, and I’d just spent the past hour battling all sorts of dirty thoughts on top of the image of Archer holding baby clothes, which shouldn’t have been hot, but was.
I shifted as he gave the bike gas and maneuvered it out of the parking lot.
The cold air did nothing to abate my rising temperature.
Once we were on the road, I didn’t dare move, afraid any slight squirming would send the tires out from under us.
As we drove, the visuals that Shayna’s mention of our bathroom rendezvous brought up had my body buzzing like a live wire.
Being wrapped around Gettysburg’s wet dream of a firefighter didn't help either.
This is pathetic. Get a grip, Darcy.
I started reciting the alphabet backwards, and when that failed as a distraction, I tried counting by sevens.
True to his word, Archer drove like he was taking the driver’s test—textbook and cautious.
He actually probably would’ve failed for driving too slow.
The logical part of me recognized it as the safe and responsible thing to do, and I appreciated it immensely since it wasn’t just my life in his hands, but the part of me that was slowly being consumed by my hormones needed him to get me home ASAP.
At a red light close to my apartment, he turned his head toward mine, yelling so I could hear him over the engine. “You good?”
Apparently, I’d been doing a crap job in the no-squirming department. I gave him a thumbs-up, not trusting my voice to come out normally. What I needed was for him to hurry up and get me back to my place.
At the next red light, I cleared my throat in attempts to mask the groan that almost escaped me. My body was growing increasingly aware of my proximity to the man in front of me, and my muscles were tight, all pretense of counting vanishing. He was all I could think about.
Archer’s head tipped ever so slightly, and then he revved the engine, the rumble of the engine intensifying momentarily.
I bit down on my lip to keep from making a sound.
There was no way he knew what was happening to me back here, but then he revved the motorcycle again, and I knew that he somehow did.
When the light turned green, he gave it a little more gas than he had previously, but kept our speed well within the speed limit.
My legs squeezed his tighter, and I bunched my hands in the leather of his jacket.
It really shouldn’t have felt this good.
Maybe this is why pregnant women weren’t allowed to ride motorcycles—for fear of near-orgasming.
It definitely wasn’t the no-seatbelt, no-protective-barrier thing.
Pulling into my driveway, he cut the engine, the bike falling still beneath us. I hopped off quickly and practically threw the helmet at him.
“Awesome! Cool! Well that was fun! Thanks for the ride. I’ll text you!” I spun on my heels, about to run for the door when he called my name.
I looked over my shoulder to find him, eyebrows quirked in confused amusement, and my shopping bag in his hands.
“Right! Whoops.” I took the few steps back the way I’d come so I could take my things from him, then quickly retreated again, his gorgeous green eyes tracking my every movement. “My bad. Thank you!”
Then I really did run, right up my front steps, not stopping to spare a backwards glance as I closed the door behind me.
I deposited the shopping bag on my kitchen table and made a beeline for my bedroom.
Inside my nightstand drawer, I pulled out my tried-and-true vibrator—the purple rabbit one that did the trick every time.
I discarded my jeans and panties hastily, wanting to find the release that I’d been edging for the past fifteen minutes.
Turning it on, I lay back on my bed, and was just about to insert it when I heard my front door open.
What the actual fuck?
I quickly hit the power button, the toy stilling in my hand. Stepping into my panties again—because there was no way I was going to get murdered without panties—I walked into the hallway, freezing the second I did.
Archer froze too, midstep in the middle of my kitchen, eyes colliding with mine before dropping to my right hand.
Where I was still clutching my vibrator.
Shit.
I didn’t move to hide it. It was too late now anyway, which meant it was game time.
No way in hell was I backing down right now.
One, because this was my house that he just invited himself into, and two, because I was convinced I would get severe clitoral damage if I didn’t get off in the next three minutes.
So, with those two things as my motivators, I broke the silence of our stare down. “What are you doing here?”
His gaze returned to mine, his tongue sliding between pressed lips before answering. “You forget I know exactly how those legs feel wrapped around my waist when you’re about to come.”
I fought the urge to press said thighs together now. He was still staring at me, but he hadn’t moved—not even an inch. I observed him, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the intense heat in his eyes. It wasn’t just me that was affected.
I smirked, unable to resist teasing him. “You can take a picture if you want. You know? So it’ll last and all that.”
“Get back in the bedroom, Brat.”
A shiver ran down my spine at the command, and for as much as I wanted to disobey him because of the “brat” comment, I was too excited to see where this was going.
“Fine.” I slipped my panties back down my legs, letting them fall around my ankles before kicking them off, toward his face. He caught them in one hand, never breaking eye contact with me. “Coming?” I murmured before turning back into my room and crawling onto the bed.
He came in, but only barely, leaning back against the wall directly across from me. I let my legs fall open, pussy bared to him. The cool air had me sucking in a breath, and Archer’s eyes snapped to mine.
“You just going to stand there?” I teased, the buzzing of my vibrator heightening the tension-filled air between us.
“Yes. It’s part of our rules.” His response was thick, lust woven in the deep tenor of his words.
“Right. Our rules. Suit yourself.” I smiled before sucking the phallic-shaped toy deep into my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks, all while maintaining eye contact.
Once it was wet—not that I needed the help at this point, I could feel how wet I was on the inside of my thighs—I popped the vibrator out of my mouth and lowered it to swirl around my clit.
And that was where the seductress facade ended, because there was no way to keep up the act anymore. The sensation was almost too much with how worked up I was, and I knew for a fact I wasn’t going to last long. Especially not with his eyes on me.
He watched as I pushed the head of the silicone into my pussy slowly, and once the ears hugged my clit, the rest of the length deep inside me, I let out a whimpered moan. Masturbating always felt good, but this? This was next level.
I began pumping the toy in and out of my heat, slowly at first, letting my hips grind down against it with every thrust. My toes curled and I wanted to let myself fall back against the bed like I usually would have, but I also didn’t want to miss one second of the man before me.
Archer’s jaw was clenched so tight, I feared for his molars.
His veins jutted out from his forearms with how tense he was, and I could see just how much he was enjoying what he was watching from the impressive bulge in his jeans.
From my position on the bed, I couldn’t tell if he was still breathing, but that was fine because I was doing enough breathing for the two of us.
My pants were coming faster and more uneven as I brought myself closer to the edge.
“Fuck, look at you. You’re so wet, I bet you come around that toy any second now.”
I hated how right he was. Normal Darcy would’ve dragged this out just to spite him, but I wasn’t normal. Lust and hormones had me crazed.
I pumped the toy into me two more times before I held it in place, the vibrations assaulting my clit with just the right amount of everything, that I slammed my eyes shut, riding out wave after wave of the intense orgasm crashing through me.
Switching off the toy, I opened my eyes to find Archer exactly where I’d left him. Part of me had expected him to prowl closer, to want to take things further—I know I did—but he hadn’t moved.
His gaze trailed up my body, meeting mine with an intensity that had me holding my breath, anticipating his next move.
“Have a good night, Darcy,” he murmured softly, then exited my bedroom. His footsteps carried down the hall, followed by the sound of the front door shutting behind him, and then I was alone.
Holy shit.
What was that, and why did I want to do it again?
I finally let myself flop back against the mattress, silently staring up at my ceiling. A minute later I broke out in laughter.
Archer had one hundred percent pocketed my panties.