CHAPTER 6 Archer Bradley
First Kiss
There’s something about this woman that is so damn magnetic that I’m having a hard time looking away.
I didn’t want her to sit with me. But she seemed desperate—and hungry, given how quickly she’s wolfing down her burger—and I was compelled to let her sit there.
She worked for it, I guess. I wasn’t exactly welcoming when she sat.
She’s gorgeous. Dark eyes that seem to permanently twinkle.
Long, dark hair that brushes against her tits in the front.
She has a youthful glow to her that tells me she’s not jaded by the world yet, but she’s still got experience under her belt as a bartender, something that feels like it doesn’t quite fit her personality.
I’m usually flawless at reading people. It’s a secret superpower. I don’t talk so they can.
But with her…it’s like she’s holding something back. I can’t figure out what it is, though.
She’s definitely interested, and you know what? So the hell am I. I’ve got nothing else to do for the next thirty days, so why not get started on night one with a little bit of fun?
Or a lot of fun, as the case may be.
And the best part is that she doesn’t seem to know who I am. Not everyone is a baseball expert, which is refreshing compared to the circles I typically run in. She’s not putting on the act for me the way so many other people do, and it feels like that makes her different.
We finish our meals, and we order another round—our fourth, actually. I take care of the bill, which she only mildly protests, and then we’re left finishing our drinks.
To anyone else, we must look like a couple on vacation. Only we know the truth: we’re two single people who ended up at the same table in a crowded restaurant by some chance.
The restaurant is still crowded, so I lift to a stand, and she does, too. I take her hand in mine and lead her toward the front of the restaurant, abandoning our table so one of the groups waiting out front can have it.
I lead her out of the tower and toward the beach, and instead of exploring the resort, we walk along the beach, hand-in-hand. It feels romantic, and I find there’s something magnetic about her in the sense that I feel pulled toward her.
“When was the last time you were at the beach?” I ask as the soft rush of the ocean moves in and out to my left.
“I went to North Avenue Beach in Chicago a few months ago. Does that count?”
I chuckle. “You’re from Chicago?”
She nods.
“So am I, originally.”
“Favorite Chicago-style pizza?” I ask.
“Let’s say it at the same time and see what we have in common.”
I nod once. “I’m game. Ready? One, two, three.”
“Lou Malnati’s,” we both say at the same time.
“Cubs or Sox?” I ask.
“Cubs,” we say at the same time.
“Best Chicago hot dogs?” she asks.
“Portillo’s,” we say at the same time.
It appears we have a lot in common as we continue chatting about landmarks back home as well as restaurants and places we like to visit.
Eventually, we wind up back in front of the diner where we shared dinner, and I bypass it and head toward the bank of elevators. I push the button to call it down here.
“I thought you wanted to explore the resort with me,” she says.
I chuckle. “Yes. I can show you my suite at the resort for starters.”
“You’re in this tower?” she asks.
I nod.
“Me too.”
“What floor?” I ask.
“Nine.”
“Come check out the view from twenty-six,” I suggest.
Her eyes light up a little. “Twenty-six? That’s club level. Pretty snazzy for a dude who works with an organization in Vegas and travels a lot.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “How did you know my floor is club level?”
“Everyone does. I looked at the price list. Out of my range. And twenty-six means you have access to the nightclub, which I’d love to check out while I’m here.” She purses her lips and raises her brows.
“Now you’re just using me for my access,” I tease.
“You can use me for other things,” she says.
At least…I think that’s what she says. She murmurs it low, and my head whips over in her direction. She raises her eyebrows, and yep…I think I might have my hands full. She’s gorgeous, and she’s definitely interested.
Soon enough my hands will be full of those gorgeous tits.
The elevator doors open, and a couple steps off before we step on. I have to insert my room key to access my floor, and the doors slide closed, leaving us alone in a rather small space.
I think about kissing her, but I’m nervous.
I haven’t had a first kiss in a long, long time. Tatum was my last.
Once when we had one of our temporary breakups, she told me she had a one-night stand while we were apart.
I lied and said I had, too. I don’t know why I lied.
I guess because I didn’t want her to bear the weight of guilt over something that didn’t really matter to me in the end.
We were apart. She was free to do what she wanted.
I could have, too, but I didn’t want to.
She came back to me then, but in the end, what did it matter?
I put Tatum out of my mind as I focus on this woman.
Millie, she said. Would it be too cliché for our first kiss to take place on an elevator as I take her up to my room to fuck her until we’re both seeing stars?
Maybe this whole thing is one giant cliché, or maybe our first kiss will be out on my balcony so I can think back to my first one-night stand in the Bahamas each time I look at that place for the next thirty days.
I can’t help but wonder how many more will come once she checks out. Maybe this will be it, or maybe vacation-suspended Archer will take pleasure in whatever he can while he can find it.
It’s something to cling to. Sex. I’ll get through this rough patch with a lot of sex. Maybe I’ll make a bucket list of my own.
I shake out the nerves.
I’m hard as fuck just thinking about her sex bucket list, but then, I think my dick responded in kind the moment I laid eyes on her.
When she sat and the smell of flowers drifted across the table toward me, I couldn’t help but have my interest piqued no matter how much I was trying to give off the leave me alone vibe. She wasn’t having it.
And now, here we are, both of us breathing a little hard as we wait in awkward silence for the elevator to rise to the twenty-sixth floor.
“When I was a kid and got onto an empty elevator with my parents, we’d dance like fools and sing a little song. Bah-bah-bah-bah-bah-bah! Let’s party! Let’s party!” She dances around a little, and I can’t help but laugh.
She seems so carefree. It’s refreshing.
I’m burdened by so many cares all the time, so much so that I let it drag me down and turn me into something even I don’t always like being around. It’s no wonder Tatum left.
Maybe this woman can teach me a thing or two while we knock a few items off that very intriguing bucket list.
She doesn’t get me to dance with her, but the doors open to my floor, and I glance over at her. “Are you sure you’re okay with going into a stranger’s hotel room?”
She lifts a shoulder. “My bullshit meter is pretty strong after bartending the last few years, so I’m going to trust my gut that tells me you’re one of the good ones.”
I don’t know if that’s true, per se, but I’m not one of the bad ones. At least I know I wouldn’t take advantage of a slightly drunk woman unless she was a fully willing participant.
“Besides,” she says, grabbing my hand as we step off the elevator, “we’re not strangers anymore. We’ve shared a meal, a few drinks, a laugh or two. This is just what comes next, right?”
The doors close behind us, and I whip her around and push her up against the wall where the call buttons are located, possibly pressing both up and down in the process, not that either of us would notice.
My hips are pinning her there as my eyes meet hers.
There’s a heat there, a strong and steady heat, and all I want to do is explore it.
I cup my palm around her neck, and she leans into my touch just the slightest bit, just enough to know that I’ve got her exactly where I want her. Her lips part, her chin tilts up, and her breath hitches.
I run my thumb over her lower lip, and she closes her eyes as I lean down closer. Instead of kissing her as she’s expecting at this moment, I whisper, “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
She lets out a soft grunt of disapproval at my question. “I want you to make me feel something I haven’t felt in far too long.”
“How long has it been?” I ask.
“Is this really what you want to talk about right now?”
I can’t help a laugh. “Go with it. I’m building the anticipation.”
“Consider the anticipation built. My God, Archer. Just fucking kiss me already.”
I lower my mouth to hers, and as soon as my lips brush along hers, I can’t help but wonder what the fuck I was nervous about.
The last woman I kissed was part of my history for over a decade.
We didn’t kiss until we were in college, eight or so years ago, but she’s the only woman I’ve kissed for a whole lot of years. This feels like new territory.
It’s like riding a bike in some ways, only with a different person. Her sounds, her scent, her touch, her movements…they’re all different. New. Unfamiliar. Sexy. Jesus, so damn sexy.
I open my mouth to hers as the fire burns between us, around us, consuming us. Our tongues duel slowly, steadily, luxuriously.
Kissing her feels so damn good that I can’t imagine what’ll happen once our bodies are writhing together naked.
I shift my hips against hers, and she bucks hers against mine. She’s a little wild, a little uninhibited. Is that the Aperol Spritz, or is that just her? I may never know, but I like this version of her that I’m getting right now. A lot.
I don’t even know her, but I know we’re connecting on a deep, visceral level just through this kiss.
It’s only meant for tonight. One night. Maybe that’s what makes it so hot. A vacation hookup, something I’ve never had before. We can go our separate ways in the morning, no strings attached. We can both think back to that one night in Paradise with a fond memory.
It’s better than being with someone for seven years only to have it end. It’s better than the pain that comes with attachment.
I think this might just be the life for me.
I’m not sure how long we stand there kissing and getting lost in one another, but I hear voices coming from around the corner of the elevator nook.
I reluctantly pull back, and her eyes are a little dazed as she holds onto my biceps.
I hadn’t even realized she was doing that until I pulled back, but she’s gripping onto me like she might fall down if she lets go.
I slip an arm around her waist, and we walk together toward my room, passing by the voices I heard coming nearer.
Her lips are red and swollen, and I’m sure mine are, too.
I don’t care.
I just want to get her to my room so we can take this to the next level.