CHAPTER 26 Millie Monroe
Bouncing Together Playfully
I’m a little surprised when Archer leans into me.
I rest my hand on his thigh, and he turns and looks at me.
Either he’s laying it on thick in front of his ex or something’s different.
Maybe it was the toast over margaritas. Maybe I went too far.
I mean, I hate her, obviously. For Archer. I’m on his side here. But she seems like a sweet, fun kind of girl who sort of got stuck in a relationship with one brother when she might’ve been meant to be with the other.
He said it himself. She kept running to Ford when she and Archer broke up. Doesn’t that say something? He was her safe haven when she needed someone to lean on. And now she gets to be with him always. Maybe he always felt like home to her when she needed to run away from her actual home.
I also get why Archer wouldn’t understand that.
I can’t imagine this is easy for him, but when I glance over at him, I see that he’s much more relaxed than he was last night.
Maybe it was the yoga, but I’m inclined to believe it was the fact that he got some of what he was holding inside off his chest when he confided in me last night.
And that means something to me. Something big…or at least big in terms of this month. Big in terms of helping him get over her and move on with his life.
But at the end of this, he’ll return home and get back into the swing of things before he’s back on the field nearly every night of the week. And honestly, our two lifestyles would never work outside of here anyway. I could never be with someone who’s so adamantly against my dreams.
But damn, he’s good in bed, so I’m going to live it up while I can.
We head our separate ways after breakfast, and I change into my swimsuit and freshen up a bit to hop on another live at the pool. Archer said he’d meet me down there in an hour or so, so I need to get down there ahead of him so I don’t catch him on my live.
I find a chair with an empty one beside it, reserve the one next to me with a towel, set up my travel stand so I can clip my phone to it, and hop on Instagram to go live.
I do my thing, chatting about sunrise yoga and the best breakfast I’ve had at the resort so far. I talk about how my ankle is doing much better, and I thank everyone for the well wishes.
I sign off with my signature outro line, and I drop the fake smile the second I’m done with the live.
Yeah, I thanked everyone who dropped into my DMs with a get well wish, but the truth is that I didn’t get any.
Not a single one. I’m not looking for sympathy here.
I don’t really care about that. But I am looking for engagement, and you’d think an injury on vacation would stir up some sort of sympathy from at least one of my followers.
But the truth is that my engagement has taken a bit of a dive. It could be the resort. I’m here for an entire month, and I’m not really posting other content. Maybe I need to brainstorm some ideas for what to post.
You know, like a famous baseball player or something.
I know he’s already been clear that the mere thought of including him on camera is off-limits, but fuck, I could really use his help.
I see a few of the ladies around the pool perk up when he walks in with those shimmering abs.
Sunglasses cover his eyes, yet I feel them on me anyway as he walks across the pool deck toward me.
He pays no attention to the women ogling him.
Maybe he’s used to it, or maybe he really is that clueless. Part of me thinks it may be the latter.
He takes the chair beside mine, sliding onto it and leaning back as if he owns it, as if he was always meant to take that chair right next to me.
I lean back, too, and I turn to look at him. He’s still got his sunglasses on, face toward the sun.
“This is the life,” I murmur.
He grunts some affirmative response.
“Do the sunshine and the gorgeous woman beside you sort of ease the burden of not being home?” I ask. I’m not sure why I ask it. We’re finally getting along, and it’s probably stupid of me to bring up his suspension.
He sits up, and he pulls his sunglasses off. He tilts his head as he studies me, and then his eyes run along my body, pausing on my tits before they flick back up to mine. He blows out a breath. “If I can’t play, this isn’t a bad alternative.”
I chuckle. “I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should.”
We’re quiet for a while, and I’m nearly asleep when I feel water droplets splashing onto my leg. I open my eyes to see a Greek god standing over me, chiseled out of perfection…and he’s dripping wet. He holds out a hand. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“Get in the water with me. It feels amazing.”
I refuse to be the one to pass up the invitation, so I scramble out of my chair. He holds my hand as we walk down the steps into the water together, and he’s right. The water is cool and refreshing on my hot skin.
He gets in up to his shoulders, and he yanks on the hand he’s still holding.
The result is that I crash into him. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, and his eyes are still covered by those dang sunglasses, but I feel him studying me.
He rolls his hips, the water rocking around us and our bodies rising and falling together with the movement.
My eyes flick to his mouth, and then I lean forward and kiss him.
It’s not to pretend in front of anyone else, but maybe it’s to mark my territory. I saw the way the other women stared at him when he walked in, and I want them to know he’s here with me…even if he isn’t actually here with me.
He deepens the kiss, opening his mouth to mine.
Our tongues dance, the water helping us to gently sway, and when he shifts his hips again, his cock is aligned straight between my legs.
I feel how hard he is against my pussy, and I want him inside me again.
Now would be the preference as the ache presses fiercely where his cock rests, but anyone could see us. We’re right in the middle of the pool.
Other couples surround us. Couples on their honeymoon, couples lost in each other. Kissing, hugging, flirting.
I pull back, and my eyes move to his sunglasses again.
He keeps one arm banded around me, and with the other hand, he reaches between us and slips my bikini bottoms to the side.
His finger pushes into me. We’re so close that nobody can really see what we’re doing, but he still guides us to a deeper part of the pool in a shady spot that’s empty of other couples.
I drop my head onto his shoulder, my lips finding his neck as I whimper softly at the feel of his fingers. And then a moment later, he replaces his fingers with something much, much larger.
I grunt as he slides into me beneath the water. I hold back a gasp as my eyes dart to his. This is dangerous. Anyone could catch us at any second, and somehow that makes it even hotter.
To anyone who might be looking at us, we’re just bouncing together playfully in the water, but the truth is that he’s fucking me in a pool where we’re surrounded by other people.
It’s illicit and hot as he moves deliberately and slowly in and out of me so as not to arouse suspicion.
He pushes in and holds himself inside me, and my mouth crashes back to his as I tighten my hold around his neck.
I have to kiss him. If I don’t, I’ll cry out his name and tell him how good he feels inside me. Instead, I whimper into his mouth as our tongues clash together, and he’s controlled and skilled as he pulls slowly back and pushes into me again.
I’m falling apart. He’s making me fall apart, making me crazed as I chase my orgasm, needing the release like I need to breathe.
It’s a frenzy, and I need him to move faster, but he won’t.
He stills inside me again, and I wish he could take my nipple into his mouth, wish he could lay me out on the bed and hammer into me.
I’m taking what I can get, though, and it’s pure and utter satisfaction.
I’m about to go flying over the edge when a big wave crashes into us.
Startled, my eyes fly open, and I pull back from our kiss only to find Ford beside us.
He has no idea that Archer is literally inside of me right now under the surface of the water, our legs blocking the view of what’s actually happening.
We can’t move now or it’ll give us away, so I cling on around his neck as I try to force back my orgasm. He doesn’t move, either, seated deep inside of me with his brother and his ex within five feet of us.
“What the fuck, man?” Archer rasps, and I can tell he’s close, too, just from the sound of his voice. How can we already know each other so well when, at the same time, it feels like we barely know one another?
“Crazy how we keep running into each other,” Ford says.
Archer’s gaze turns to me, and I’m ninety percent sure he’s about to come. He manages to slip quickly out of me, using the hand that was already under the water to pull his swim trunks back into place.
He clears his throat, and I think we both need a cold drink after that. Or a cold shower. And, you know, an orgasm. I’m half tempted to just rub it out here in the water as desperation clings on.
“Yeah, crazy,” Archer echoes. His eyes stay on mine rather than moving to his brother or his ex, and it’s like a huge, green flag waving and telling me where his focus lies…and it’s not with them. It’s with me, and it makes me feel like he’s well and truly over her and ready to move on.
A pulse of sadness washes over me. I’m glad he’s ready to move on.
I’m just starting to wish that it could be with me.