CHAPTER 18 Millie Monroe
A Sex Agreement
Jenny finishes wrapping my ankle. “Ice it every two to three hours for fifteen minutes for the next forty-eight hours. It needs to rest, so keep it elevated and wrapped when you’re not icing.
If you can’t bear weight or it feels worse tomorrow, let us know, but otherwise we’ll check in on you in a couple days.
” She helps me so I’m resting in a comfortable position across the couch, my foot propped up on a pillow.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. She gives me some other instructions about ibuprofen that I’m half-listening to, and I let out a sigh of frustration, and tears fill my eyes as Archer walks her out.
“Can I get you anything?” he asks once he closes the door behind her.
“A fixed ankle?”
“It’ll only keep you down for the next couple days, and if I know you at all, you’re not going to let it stop you anyway.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Didn’t you just say you don’t know me?”
“I don’t.” He sighs, and it’s deep and heavy.
“And I’m not great at letting people get to know me, either.
” The words feel heavy between us, but there’s an edge of desperation to them that makes me feel like he wants to let me in.
But what good would that do when we’re just going to go our separate ways once this month ends?
“I’m not asking you to let me in,” I say softly, not bringing up the fact that he did start to let me in on the bus earlier. He just doesn’t realize it. But he told me about the suspension, his ex, and a bit about his father.
It was a lot to take in, but from what I can tell, he’s incredibly hard on himself. He’s put up a lot of walls of protection, and I want to scale them.
His eyes flick up to meet mine, and I push the envelope as hard as I can.
“Look, nobody in their twenties is walking around without baggage, particularly not two single people traveling solo for an entire month to a Bahamian resort. What if we both just…I don’t know…leave our baggage packed and use what time we have to our advantage?”
He twists his lips as if he’s considering it, so I plow forward.
“We both came here for an escape, though very different ones, so what if we just, you know…find comfort in each other while we’re here?
Certainly we can come to some sort of agreement.
Like, I promise not to feature anything other than those fine calves of yours on my socials, and I promise never to mention your name, and you promise to give me twelve orgasms by the time Jenny calls to check on my ankle. ”
A smile hints at his lips. “Twelve?”
“You can start by finishing the one you started on the bus,” I say pointedly.
“So you’re proposing a sex agreement?” he asks.
“I mean, when you say it that way, it sounds trashy. I’m proposing that we just enjoy each other while we can and stop trying to fight it. We keep getting thrown together anyway. Why not just let fate do its thing, and we head our separate ways back to our lives at the end of this thing?”
He glances out the window, contemplating what to do as if the answer is somehow out there in the gardens my room faces.
I interrupt his thoughts with more words.
“That first night we were both here was good, Archer. I’m stuck resting for the next two days, and if I’m supposed to keep my leg elevated, why not have it up in the air while you’re between my legs?
” I’m still wearing my dress, and I slowly start to slide it up my thigh.
His eyes flick to the movement, and he watches the slow climb as I pull it all the way up until I’m flashing him my panties. His eyes move back to mine, and then he mutters, “Fuck it.”
He’s like a fucking jaguar with the smooth, agile speed in which he lands on top of me, his mouth crushing to mine as he carefully avoids my ankle but still somehow manages to buck his hips against mine.
I open my mouth to his, butterflies leaping through me that this is really happening. He’s really giving into this pull between us, one he’s tried to ignore but seemingly can’t, one that I’ve wanted to act on again since the first time.
His kiss is brutal, his tongue thrashing into my mouth with a purpose as one of his hands moves along my thigh, pushing my dress upward even as he continues to push his hips against mine.
He’s wild, untamed, needy, and so am I. Just the rough brush of his erection as it hits against my center is nearly enough to push me over the cliff he left me right on the edge of, but I need more. I need him.
I don’t have any condoms in here, though, and I’m fairly certain he knows that since the first night we were together, I admitted I didn’t have any.
He breaks our kiss and shifts to the side to reach between us, his hands rough as he yanks my panties over to give himself access.
He slides his finger back inside me. I arch back, my tits coming up toward his mouth but still hidden beneath my dress, and he kisses me over my dress between them as I moan and close my eyes to the pleasure.
The ache that he left there pulses strong and deep, and it’s like he picks up right where he left off as his finger pumps in and out of me.
He pulls it out to finger my clit, and that does it.
I fly over the edge of bliss, my body warm everywhere as my thighs clench tightly together over his hand.
His voice is low and raspy near my ear as I fight my way through the bliss. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous when you come.”
Some incoherent curse paired with a moan falls from my lips, and my body continues to quake even after the pulses of pleasure start to wane.
I let out a soft sigh of bliss once I come down from the high.
“Jesus, I can’t wait to see that happen eleven more times in the next forty-eight hours,” he says.
I can’t help a small laugh even as I reach over to feel how hard he is over his shorts. “Your turn?” I offer.
“We said you were getting twelve. We didn’t say how many I’m getting.”
“More than twelve?” I ask.
“I’ve got a lot of stamina, but not that much. Besides, orgasms don’t have to be a one-for-one kind of thing, you know?”
I don’t think I’ve ever been with a man who held that same perspective, but it’s definitely something I can get on board with for the next month. And I already think I’m going to have a hard time saying goodbye when this month comes to an end.
I push that thought out of my mind. I’m drifting off a bit when I hear his voice.
“I really think we can hit all these.”
“Hm?” I ask. My eyes open lazily, and when I see that he’s holding Chip and Jackie’s sex bucket list, they fly all the way open.
“Balcony sex, that’s easy enough. Some of these can be cross-referenced. Like, for example, we can hit skinny dipping, sex in a pool, and public sex all in one. Possibly with sex on the beach wrapped in. And we almost hit sex on an excursion, so we just need one more—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, mister. Why the sudden change of heart?” I ask. “Five minutes ago, you didn’t want anything to do with me, and now you’re trying to finish a sex bucket list.”
“The sudden change of heart was born from our new agreement. Oh, and also from watching you come. Fuck, if that isn’t the most goddamn addictive thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
I want to feel gross that this is just sex, but instead of feeling gross, I feel empowered.
I’ve never felt sexy before, but he makes me feel that way.
I feel strong and in control because I know what this is for both of us. We can do whatever we want in the next month, and nobody ever has to know. Just two people taking what they need and having a damn good time while doing it.
Is it too much to ask that I don’t get attached to him along the way, too?
“Okay, fine. If you’re so addicted, then make me come again,” I challenge. It won’t be the first time I’ve had multiple orgasms in one night, but if I’m being honest, the first time was the night I met Archer Bradley.
He sets the list on the dresser, and he walks over toward me. He moves so he’s on top of me, still careful to avoid my ankle, and he gently drives his hips against me.
“God, Archer, you’re so hard,” I murmur.
His eyes focus down on mine. “This is what you do to me.” His voice is low and raspy with an edge of desperation to it. “God, I want to fuck you.”
“Do it,” I say, goading him on. I tilt up and press my lips to his neck, and he lets out a low groan. I do my best to shift my hips against his.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Is this okay?”
I nod. “Please,” I beg. I need this connection, need him inside me, need him surrounding me like I need to breathe.
He makes quick work of pulling his cock out and doesn’t bother with pulling my panties off, instead opting to pull them to the side and slide right into me. There’s no foreplay, no warming up, just bare skin sliding through me.
Holy shit. He feels so good.
He moves in and out of me, slow and steady, and my pussy clamps greedily on, not wanting to let go.
I pull my tits over the cups of my bra and over the top of my dress.
He bends down and sucks one between his lips, still driving slowly into me, making me crazy as the need for friction bears down on me.
I wrap my legs around him, and my ankle twinges a little, but the pleasure he’s delivering is overpowering the pain.
He lets go of my tit to look me in the eyes. His voice is gentle when he asks, “You okay?”
I nod as I snag my lip between my teeth, and he moves a little harder, a little faster.
“Your cunt is hungry today,” he murmurs. “You feel so goddamn good, Millie. Shit, I’m—fuck.” He pushes in as deep as he can, and God, I love it when he goes deep, which I make clear to him as I cry out.
“Yes, Archer! God, yes, go deep! Faster!” I claw at his back as he picks up the pace.
“Every inch of you belongs to me for the next month,” he growls, and those are the words that set me on fire. My body starts to tighten everywhere as he thrusts inside me, and I let go as he hammers into me over and over.
I cry out his name as my climax hits me hard, and it’s somewhere in the middle of it that he pulls out of me, grips his cock in his fist, pushes my dress up, and aims the head at my stomach.
He pumps himself a few times before his release plows into him.
Hot white streams of cum land all over my stomach as he lets go just as I regain control of my own body again.
I feel warm all over, but watching his face as he comes is as addictive as he said watching me was.
God, he’s sexy. It’s not just the calves. He’s clenching his jaw as the cum spurts out of him, mumbling dirty words and filthy promises that I can’t wait for him to make good on.
We have our differences, sure. We’re both certain this won’t—can’t—last past this month.
But my God, what a good month it’s going to be.