28. So, Your Mom Is Really Here?
CHAPTER 28
SO, YOUR MOM IS REALLY HERE?
Paloma
The room is cold. This resolve to stay away from Archer is already taking its toll. His absence weighs heavy on me and sucks the air out of my lungs. I gather the covers around me and squeeze my eyes shut. One night without him, and I already feel the darkness closing in. How am I supposed to spend a life without him? A whole life yearning for a love that could’ve been.
I turn on my back to stare at the ceiling. For a moment, I’m startled to find Archer on his side of the bed, wide awake. He stayed with me. My chest fills with warm honey, and suddenly I feel giddy. I was wrong to think that I could keep my distance and be the kind of person Dad wants me to be. I can’t do that. I belong to Archer. Anything else that contradicts the one undeniable truth hurts.
“Good morning.” He shoots a quick glance at me, a smile playing in the corner of his eye.
“Good morning.” I suppress a smile. “No early workout today.”
“Not today.” He releases a breath.
The air shifts with a raw charge. I can’t stand to be this far away from him. Turning on my side, I tuck my arm under my head and study his features and his physique. The covers barely come up to his navel, so I get a full view of his muscled body and chiseled profile. I must’ve looked ridiculous saying no to a man like him last night.
I smile, burying my face in the pillow.
“You’ve come to your senses then?” he asks, his intense blue gaze focused on the ceiling.
How does he always know what I’m thinking. “Am I so obvious?”
“I’m so addicted to the hunger in your eyes. When it isn’t there, I notice.” He turns to look at me.
The lust I see written all over his face hits me like an avalanche. I want to tell him that I didn’t stop wanting him for a second. But then, I’ll have to tell him about Dad, and I don’t think that’s something he can understand. Dad is only trying to protect me because he doesn’t know Archer the way I do.
“He wants me to be something I cannot be when I’m around you.” I suck in a breath. “I need you to touch me. Does that make me a bad person?”
“It makes you your own person.” He moves to his side to face me.
His eyes and lips are a little puffy from sleep. He’s impossibly good looking in the morning. But the thing that makes him utterly irresistible is that he stayed in bed for me. Despite what he witnessed last night at the hospital, he’s still looking at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. If he’s addicted to my desire, then what am I for him? I’m more than addicted to him. What is there beyond addiction? Madness?
“He doesn’t get to decide if that version of you is good or bad.” His gaze softens. “I want to see you wet.”
“Archer.” I laugh at the change of direction, rolling onto my back. I don’t even know what he means, but the fury of my desire is already taking shape in my core, clouding my senses and my mind.
“Shower.” He throws his legs over the side of the bed. “Now.”
Being in bed with him is my new favorite thing. When he gets up, I open my mouth to protest but then stop mid-sentence to watch him cross the room naked—he’s all loose-hips and long muscled legs. I groan into my pillow because of course I’m going to follow that man into the shower. Father doesn’t get to tell me what to do anymore. He lost the right to demand my devotion when he sold me to Archer. It shouldn’t be so black and white. But he made it that way.
When I stroll into the bathroom, Archer is already in the shower stall. Steam hangs from the mirrors and glass door. It’s like we’re up in the clouds. I reach for the hem of my T-Shirt and pull it over my head before I join him under the warm spray.
“You wanted me to teach you about sex?” He presses my back to his chest and bends down to nibble on my shoulder. “Let me show you all the ways you can take me, Little Dove.” He walks me to the wall and presses me to it until my nipples pebbled against the cold tile. “Fuck, you look so perfect like this.”
I brace my hands on the wall for support as droplets of oil pelt on my back. Looking over my shoulder, I focus on his wet hair and his broad shoulders. “What are you doing?”
“You like this, don’t you?” He massages my back, his hands gliding down the length of my spine. With each stroke, he goes farther down until his fingers reach my ass. He splits me open, teasing my butthole. “Tell me.”
“Yes.” I let my head hang, surrendering to the subtle pleasure of his fingers in my back entrance. “Archer. Not there.”
“You don’t like it?” He kisses my cheek as he squirts more lubricant on me.
“I do. But.” Words leave my head when he inserts two fingers inside. It’s so tight, but I need more.
“But what?” He continues to massage my butt cheeks with his free hand as he glides his two fingers in a gentle motion.
I shake my head because I don’t exactly know what my objection to butt sex is. It’s different than when he takes my pussy. He’s gentle and soothing the way he’s working me to get me to adjust to the pressure. He continues the process of running his free hand all over my back and even my breasts, while inching inside me a little more.
“You’re so ready for me, Little Dove.” He sucks on the cord of my neck, then turns my face so he can capture my mouth. Water drips from his hair down to my face while our wet and slick bodies rub against each other. “Take in a breath and hold it.”
I nod and do as he asks while he adds even more lubricant to the top of my butt and his cock.
“Let it go,” he orders as he guides his erection into my ass.
It hurts at first, but then it doesn’t. It feels too good. “Omigod. Archer.” I reach back to cup his face.
“Breathe.” He moves ever so slowly, the way his fingers soothed me before.
The sensation is so intense; the slightest movement is enough to send me into a frenzy. Adrenaline rushes through me, and there’s a tinge of danger to it. As if his cock in my ass is something so forbidden it could hurt us both. But it doesn’t. My core ignites, and he pushes a little more.
“You’re so fucking perfect.” He runs his teeth along my jaw as he pulls out a bit then swells gently into me.
I’m about to explode. A part of me wants him to go fast, but I know I can come at this slow like honey pace. The delicious burn inside keeps growing with every tender roll of his hips. He cups both my breasts and kneads them in a measured rhythm that matches the rest of his body. I glance down at his hands tugging my slippery nipples into peaks. And I realize I’m covered in oil from the neck down.
My clit is on fire. I reach between my legs and rub on it hard. “Archer,” I call for him.
“I’m right here, Little Dove.” He moves his hand down and takes over for me, skimming his fingers into my folds and around my clit.
Standing on my tippy toes, I take in a little more of him. At this angle and with him all the way in, the unravelling that has been sitting at the very edge of my core is just impossible to contain. I brace my palm on the smooth tile and let the fire consume me. My orgasm is familiar but so different at the same time. It’s everywhere all at once. It burns and it soothes, and it devastates in the same stroke of rapture.
“Archer.” I reach behind me to fist his hair as he wraps his arm around my waist and plunges into me.
“Fuck.” He holds me tighter, bracing one hand on the wall, as he finds his own climax.
But still, he’s being careful not to ravish me the way he normally does. It doesn’t matter that he’s not fucking me intensely. I still come harder than I have before as the ribbons of pleasure linger at my core and in my chest.
He shivers against me, panting ragged breaths on the side of my face. Slowly, he pulls out and moves out of the way, so the warm spray hits my back. My knees feel like they’re about to buckle, but I stay put while he squirts body wash onto a washcloth and begins to wash me.
“Don’t worry.” He kisses my shoulder. “We’re going back to bed after this.”
“Good. Because I can’t feel my legs.” I press my forehead to the tile and laugh.
I shampoo my hair while he gently scrubs every inch of my body. His hands on me make me feel protected, cherished. What would it take for the two of us to stay here, just like this, forever?
When he’s finished, he steps under the second shower head to wash up. I could get out and dry up, but instead, I stand there and ogle him as he roughly scrubs his chest and abs. Suds scurry down his soft skin, as he tips his head back to let the warm spray rinse him.
“You like to watch, Little Dove?” He steps out, grabs a white fluffy towel off the rack and dries himself.
Heat creeps up my cheeks. Shaking my head, I follow him out of the shower stall. Butterflies flutter in my belly when he saunters to the vanity and proceeds to brush his teeth. The man just had butt sex with me in the shower. But for some reason, spying on Archer while he performs the most basic part of a hygiene routine feels like an intrusion of his privacy. But I don’t care. Leaning my hip on the counter, I simply stare.
He spits out the toothpaste, then cups his hand to catch tap water and bring it to his mouth.
“Something on your mind, Little Dove?” he asks.
“No.” I shake my head, squeezing toothpaste on my toothbrush.
He chuckles then disappears into his closet. For a moment, I’m disappointed because it seems like he’s getting ready to go out. But when he returns, he’s only wearing his boxer briefs.
I finish brushing my teeth, comb my hair with my fingers, then meet him back in the suite. By then, he’s already in bed, scrolling on his phone.
“You don’t have work today?” I ask, climbing in next to him.
“I’m doing it right now.” He winks.
I prop my head on my hand, lying on my side, while I study his features. “We should do this every morning.”
“What we did today is more of a treat, than an everyday meal.” A sexy smile pulls at his lips.
“It was so intense.” I get on my knees and lean on his bent leg. “I liked it.”
“Me too.” He slides his phone onto his bedside table, then pulls me into his arms. “There isn’t a single thing about you I don’t like.”
“I love everything about you.” I kiss his chest. “I like that there are no more secrets between us.”
He tenses next to me, and I wince. I didn’t mean to kill the mood. I only wanted to thank him for what he did for me last night. He not only took care of my father, but he also took care of me at my worst. Or maybe not my worst, but definitely pretty close.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter against his skin.
“About what?” He meets my gaze.
“Last night must’ve been a nightmare for you.” I swallow. “Thank you.”
“The only thing that was a nightmare for me was when you asked me not to touch you.” He holds me tighter. “You can ask me for anything except that. Your freedom is the one thing I’m not willing to give you.”
“Take it. I don’t want it.” I scoot up to kiss his lips. “Being here with you, like this, is all I want. I want you.”
“Then, you have me.” He runs his hand down my back. “Scars and all.”
“Always.” I rest my head on his shoulder.
We sit in silence while the sunrays bathe the suite in warm light. Then, the landline rings.
“Jesus. You’d think always would be a little longer than a minute.” He sits up and answers. “Yes?” His eyebrows go up in surprise. “We’ll be right down. Thanks.” He hangs up.
“What’s going on?” I sit on my ankles next to him.
“If I ask you to stay in the suite, would you listen to me?” he asks.
“Are you ordering me to stay in my cell?” I furrow my brows. “You know, like I’m your prisoner?”
He chuckles. “This is why giving you orders is much easier and efficient.”
“Why do you want me to stay here?” I’m not complaining. I wouldn’t mind staying in bed with him all day, but there’s something suspicious in the way he’s being honest about what he wants, but also, sneaky. How is he even doing that? I kiss his lips. “You can tell me, I promise I won’t freak out. Is it bad?”
“No.” He takes in a deep breath. “My family came home last night.”
“Oh.” I look over to the clock on the mantel. “Omigod. We’re still in bed. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I wanted to make sure you and I were okay first.” He brushes the back of his fingers down my cheek. “Are we?”
“We are.” I nod, placing my hand over his on my cheek. “So your mom is really here?”
“Yes, and she wants to meet you.” His gaze roams down to my naked breasts. “I promise we can come back to bed right after lunch.”
“Okay.” I squirm a little. “Are you sure she’s not going to hate me instantly? I mean, we did get married without her consent.”
“Hmm.” He winces a little. “She might be piqued for a minute. But I think she’s really going to love you. Especially after she realizes how happy you make me.”
My heart skips a beat. “I make you happy?” I shake my head. “How?” I point at my wrists and the evidence of my latest episode. “I wish you hadn’t seen me like that.”
“I’m glad I did. Because now I understand so much more about you.” He brushes wet strands of hair away from my face. “How long have you been doing that?” He takes my arm to inspect it.
The cuts are tender but not infected or swollen. I try not to picture how bad things got one time when I didn’t tend to my arm. And there wasn’t anyone in the house who cared enough to help me with the bandages.
“Does your dad know you do that?” he asks. “Does Chuck?”
“They do.” I nod. “It’s just the thing I do. They know it doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means everything, Paloma.” He places a finger under my chin. “If they choose to look away it’s because they know they’re probably the cause of it.” He pulls me into his arms. “If they stopped being so selfish for a just a minute, they would see how much they hurt you with their lack of concern.”
“Chuck is mad at me for stealing you from him.” I smile. I’ve never had anyone to say things like that to. “But he’ll come around. He’s always mad at me for something. Mostly because of how much attention I get from Dad.”
“That sounds like Chuck.” He shakes his head. “He walks through life thinking the world owes him a great deal.” He draws circles on my bare back. “Have you ever seen a therapist for it?”
I nod. “In college. I secretly started talking to a school counselor who helped me. But then, Dad found out and made me stop.” I take in Archer’s scent.
“Why?” he asks.
“He didn’t think it was wise for me to be divulging family secrets.” I shrug. “At the time, I thought I was better. So, I stopped. The nightmares stopped, and with them all my anger and anxiety.”
“But then, you moved in back with your dad and the urges slowly returned. Is that right?” He brings me closer to him as if trying to erase the bad memories. How does he know so much about me?
“Sometimes. I can’t tell if you can read my mind, or if you just simply hired someone to find out everything there is to know about me.” I lift my head to look at him. “It’s the latter, isn’t it?”
“You really want to know the truth?” He sighs.
“Yes, please.” I try to think of all the embarrassing stuff I’ve done. What could Archer find out about me that would absolutely make him hate me? But the thing is, anything worth noting in my life happened within the walls of the theatre. “I want to know what you know about me. Maybe some of it isn’t true?”
“I don’t keep a dossier on you if that’s what you’re thinking.” He stops to inhale. “I did ask Gardenia to do some light Googling on my behalf.”
I let out a laugh. “Wow, that’s straight up stalking.”
“I’m okay with that word.” He cups my face and captures my mouth. “Let’s go meet my mother.”
“Okay.” I bite my lower lip.
“Don’t worry, she’s going to love you.” He bends down to kiss me again. “Just don’t tell her your father is a politician and you’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, no problem. I figured that one out since I was in middle school.” I push off him and climb out of bed to get dressed.
He follows me into the closet. And again, I feel like a voyeur watching him get dressed in one of his dark suits.
As he works on his tie, he turns around to look at me. “Spring is almost here. You need a new wardrobe.”
“You know, I have a lot of clothes. If you would just let me get them.” I pause to think. “What do you think Dad did with all my stuff when he moved out of the house?”
He pauses for a beat before he finishes with his tie. “It’s all still there.”
“What do you mean? Wouldn’t the new owners want to move in and make it their own?” I hadn’t considered that new people would be in my old room. Thinking about all the years I spent in the house and how I would never see any of it again makes me very sad.
“I bought his house.” He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “And everything inside it.” He looks at me as if waiting for me to finally lose it.
I run to him and throw my arms around his waist. “Thank you. I didn’t want to think about what it meant to lose our family’s legacy. Dad grew up in that house, same as me. And, even if it was for a little while, he was happy there with Mom. It would’ve been too sad to see it go. Thank you.”
He clears his throat. “Right. The Senator grew up in that house.”
“Why do you say it that way?” I peer up at him.
“You never talk about her.” He slides the pad of his thumb over my lips. “What was she like?
“I don’t know. I was very little when she died. I only remember her from pictures.” I shrug.
“I’m sorry.” His eyes are so full of pity.
“Don’ t look at me like that. It doesn’t make me sad to think of her. I only know good stories about her.” I straighten his tie even though he tied it perfectly. “Am I okay wearing this dress?” I chose a simple black dress and pearl earrings to meet Archer’s mom. I don’t know why I really want her to like me. Maybe because if she does, Archer and I will be closer to becoming a real family.
“You look beautiful.” He brushes his lips to mine. “Let’s go. She’s been waiting on us for a while.”
“Lead the way.” I place my hand in his.
He escorts me out of the suite and down the wide hallway. With each step he takes, his hold on me tightens. What is he not telling me? I smile at him and pretend I’m not nervous as heck. Or that his grip is making me extra anxious about his mom and seeing his family again.
When we reach the foyer, voices filter in from the dining room. It sounds like a party in there, and a part of me feels jealous. I’ve never lived in a house where people laugh and talk like that over lunch.
“Everyone is here.” I beam up at him.
“I wish I could tell you that they’re usually not this rowdy, but that would be a lie.” He winks.
His voice carries because as soon as he speaks, the voices quiet down in the other room. In the next beat, they all come out to greet us in the living room.
“You remember Gardenia, Fisher and Jacob.” Archer gestures toward them.
“Hi.” Gardenia steps in and hugs me tight. “It’s good to see you.”
“Thank you. You too.” I relax, feeling relieved that she’s not mad at me anymore.
“I trust you’re well.” Fisher nods politely.
“I would hug you.” Jacob tilts his head toward Archer. “But I don’t want to lose my arms.”
“Smart man.” Archer smirks, then turns his attention to the woman joining us.
Archer’s mom is in her late fifties with high cheek bones and long dark hair. She’s a classic beauty with the bluest eyes like turquoise lagoons. Hers is an older version of the face I’ve been venerating in my room every night for the past twenty-one years.
“Mom?” I croak.