7. Arch
seven
Arch
My sister calls the following Saturday morning while I’m reviewing a compromised server, giving me something else to do besides think about the fact that I haven’t seen Samantha in three days. It’s longer than I would have liked, but after our last date, it felt like we needed some time apart.
“I need a favor.”
“No,” I reply before she can say another word.
“You haven’t heard about the favor.”
“You use that tone only when the twins have organized a rebellion.”
“It isn’t a rebellion. It’s an educational opportunity.”
In the background, I hear Lily shout, “Ask him!”
Lucy shouts something about fire, and I know I’m in trouble.
I stop typing. “Why is Lucy talking about fire?”
“Their art program was canceled, and I had promised them an activity. Then the hospital called me in.”
My sister Rebecca is a pediatric surgeon—whenever the hospital calls, she goes.
“What activity?” I ask before I can change my mind.
“A beginner glassblowing class.”
I stare at the monitor—fate is on my side today. “I’m on my way.”
***
Thirty minutes later, I’m driving my nieces to the South Loop studio where Samantha teaches. It’s for my nieces, not because I’ve been dying to see Samantha—at least, that’s what I tell myself until Lily leans between the front seats.
“Uncle Arch, why have you fixed your hair three times?”
“I haven’t.”
“You checked it in the mirror.”
“I was watching traffic.”
Lucy giggles. “Mom says you’re a terrible liar.”
“Your mother says many things.”
The studio occupies a renovated brick warehouse. Heat envelops us the moment we step inside. Samantha stands near the furnace, wearing jeans, work boots, and a fitted black shirt under a leather apron, her braid hanging down her back.
She looks up, surprised. “Arch?”
Hearing her say my name feels strangely intimate. “These are my nieces, Lily and Lucy.”
The twins introduce themselves at the same time as Samantha crouches to their level and explains the safety rules. Within minutes, they adore her—just like I do.
I watch her guide their hands, praise their mistakes, and turn their nervousness into delight. She never rushes them or makes them feel foolish.
When Lily’s first glass ornament collapses, Samantha turns it into a tiny flower. “Art doesn’t always turn out as we planned,” she tells Lily. “That doesn’t mean it failed.”
Her words stay with me—is she talking about us and our relationship?
After class, the twins beg Samantha to join us for dinner. “You don’t have to,” I say, even though I desperately want her to say yes.
She wipes her hands on her apron. “Is this another assignment?”
“No.”
Her gaze holds mine. “Then I’d love to.”
At dinner, Lily and Lucy ask Samantha so many questions that it feels like an interrogation.
Does she have a boyfriend?
No.
Does she think Uncle Arch is handsome?
Samantha nearly inhales her water at that question.
I hide my amusement behind my napkin. “Girls,” I warn.
“What?” Lucy asks. “Mom says you need someone.”
“Your mother is in so much trouble,” I grumble.
Samantha laughs. “I think your uncle is very handsome.”
The twins look at each other, clearly pleased with the turn of events.
I couldn’t look away from Samantha—it’s only been three days, and I’m already tied in knots from not seeing her.
When Rebecca collects them, Lily hugs Samantha, and Lucy whispers something in her ear.
“What did she say?” I ask once they have left.
“That’s confidential.”
“Lucy is twelve.”
“And already more socially skilled than you.”
“What did she say?”
Samantha smiles. “She told me you like me.”
My heart skips a beat. “Did she?”
“She’s very observant.”
“Yes.”
Suddenly, the restaurant feels very quiet as Samantha’s smile softens. “Is she right?”
I could hide behind the flower arrangement. I could say that liking her is inappropriate or complicated. Instead, I reach across the table and take her hand. “Yes.”
Her fingers tremble in mine. “I like you too,” she whispers.
***
Outside her apartment, neither of us moves toward the door. The evening is cold, so Samantha stands close to me under the yellow glow of a streetlamp, her face turned up toward mine.
“I want to kiss you,” I say.
Her lips part. “I’ve never done this before.”
“A first date?”
She shakes her head. “Any of it.”
It takes me a moment to process. “You’ve never been kissed?”
“I’ve been kissed. Just not…” Her cheeks flush. “Not much more than that.”
I stare at her. “You’re a virgin.”
I should step back—be a gentleman. I’m thirteen years older than she is—I have more power and money, and a contract complicates things between us. But I understand how vulnerable her confession is because I have the same secret. “So am I.”
She blinks. “You’re joking.”
“No.”
“But you’re—”
“Thirty-four?”
“Rich. Handsome. Really good at what you do.”
“I’ve had opportunities. I didn’t trust them.”
“And you trust me?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes.” I touch her cheek. “This doesn’t happen because of the agency,” I say. “It doesn’t happen because I paid for your time. If I kiss you, it’s because you want me to.”
“I want you to.”
“Say it again.”
“I want you to kiss me, Arch.” I lower my mouth to hers.
Our first kiss is gentle and sweet, the perfect first kiss—the second is nothing like the first. Our mouths crash together as she grabs my coat and stands on her toes, letting out a soft sound that makes me lose control.
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close, deepening the kiss.
She’s warm, trembling, and incredibly sweet.
She breaks the kiss, pulling back. “Come upstairs,” she whispers against my lips.
“Samantha.” I groan, knowing what she’s asking and that I can’t say no, even though that would be the responsible thing to do.
“I’m sure.”
I rest my forehead against hers. “If we go upstairs, I might not be able to leave.”
“Then don’t.” She presses her lips to mine, telling me without words what she wants.
Without hesitation, I pick her up bridal-style and carry her to her apartment, never breaking the kiss.
I've never taken my clothes off so fast as I did after I carried Samantha into her apartment and stripped her bare, laying her on the bed and fanning her hair out on the pillows, just as I've been dreaming. "You're so beautiful, Samantha." I run my hand through her hair.
I capture her mouth with mine, loving the feel of her tongue against mine. I kiss my way down her neck to her breasts. Her tight nipples are begging for my mouth. Giving in, I take one deep into my mouth and suck hard, making Samantha moan. "Yes, Arch. Harder."
I give her what she wants as I suck her nipple hard enough to leave a mark. The thought causes some pre-cum to leak out of my cock.
Fuck I need to be inside her now.
I reach between her legs and finger her pussy soaked with need.
I run my fingers over her clit, pressing against the sensitive nub, watching as her body jerks at the contact.
"That's it. Come for me, Samantha." I thrust a finger inside her, and she falls apart around it, soaking my hand with her release.
"Are you ready for me?" At her nod, I line my cock up at her entrance and slowly push forward until I break through her virginity and bottom out inside her. Her pussy squeezes me so tight I'm not sure how long I'm going to last. It's a good thing we will have a lifetime to make this last longer.
I rock my hips back and forth, testing my limits, when Samantha moans in my ear, "Arch, please. I need it hard and fast this first time. We can go slow next time."
I give in to her command, snapping my hips back and forth with such force I'm afraid I'll leave bruises on her skin.
We're both so lost in the feeling it isn't until she's shouting her release in my ear that I let up on my thrusts, only to follow her over the edge with my own release.
After our bodies stop shaking from our joint climax, I roll onto my back, taking her with me.
“I thought it would feel different,” she murmurs against my chest.
“Different how?”
“Less important.”
I kiss her forehead. “It was important to me.”
“To me, too.” Eventually, her breathing slows as she curves her body around me so trustingly.
I stay awake, holding her, and wonder how someone who had guarded himself for so long could let his guard down in just one night.
At four seventeen in the morning, my phone vibrates—Miles’s name appears above a BlackBox emergency code. I ease out from under Samantha and answer the call in the hallway. “What happened?”
“The Frankfurt data center has been compromised. It’s worse than the initial report suggested. The client’s demanding you in person.”
“How soon?”
“The jet can leave in ninety minutes.”
I look toward Samantha’s bedroom. “Send a team.”
“We did. They can’t isolate the breach.”
I close my eyes, silently cursing my luck.
I should wait until Samantha wakes up to tell her, but duty wins out—fear helps it.
“I’ll be there in five.” I hang up, telling myself I’ll call Samantha from the car.
Then I change it to the airport, then after we land—each failed promise filling me with guilt.
But exhaustion and the crisis make me forget every promise I made to the one person who matters most.
How will she ever forgive me for leaving a note beside her new phone and walking away before she even woke up?