33. Archer
ARCHER
“Is Miss Allie here?” I ask the young blonde behind the reception desk of the dance studio.
Her high ponytail swishes when she lifts her head to look at me—brown eyes widening behind her glasses.
“God. You’re the baby daddy?” She lets out a low whistle as her gaze drifts back to the computer screen in front of her and she murmurs, “No wonder,” before shaking her head and pointing down the long hallway to my right.
“Second studio on the left. Her class just finished, so you can go inside.”
“Um… Thanks.” I chuff a laugh as I head in the direction she advised.
The hall is painted a baby blue shade, with large windows showcasing each of three dance studios on either side.
I make it to the middle studio, catching just a glimpse of dark hair through the window on my left as I open the door.
When I step inside, I immediately recognize the soft sound of “Gods & Monsters” by Lana Del Rey as it flows through the space.
When we were children, her dad would often teach us swing dancing while on trips and holidays—it’s something her parents have always done together, and what inspired Allie’s interest in dance early on.
Allie went through a phase in our teen years where she was convinced she could develop a swing dance routine to Lana Del Rey, and I was her unfortunate partner.
It did not pan out, but we had fun, and I memorized nearly the entire Born to Die album.
I scan the room, taking in the dark light and the floor-to-ceiling mirrored walls on all sides, before my gaze lands on her at the center, and every ounce of oxygen seizes in my lungs. She doesn’t just steal my breath—she commands it. As if it were always hers to take.
Ethereal, poised, and utterly graceful, Allie spins around the pole. Both hands grasping it above her head, she hovers just a few inches above the ground, one knee hooked around the pole and the other kicked out behind her as her body twirls in circles.
The room is dimmed with indigo accent lighting, only Allie’s silhouette visible in the cool glow. The soft lines of her form move with languid elegance. Yet, the seductive melody of the music and the shape of her curves craft the most achingly erotic scene I’ve ever witnessed.
My knees weaken as I fall back against the doorframe, my runaway heart a thundering gallop as it begs me to place it in the palm of her hand.
I buckle beneath the weight of her allure, unable to do anything but watch her raptly, desire her desperately, and love her wholly.
She doesn’t notice me—I don’t think. Continuing through the routine, she hooks her straight leg, switching positions so that she’s facing the pole rather than away from it, spinning in the opposite direction than before.
She drops one arm, spreading it out wide as her hand glides through the air and her head tilts back, revealing her long, delicate neck.
“She is stunning.”
I startle, whipping around. The petite blonde from earlier stands beside me, watching Allie with her arms crossed.
A soft smile graces her mouth before she drags her eyes to mine.
“I’m going to head out. Let Allie know she can stay as long as she wants and to lock up when she’s done.
Oh, and there aren’t any cameras in this room.
” She spins on her heel before tossing me a wink over her shoulder. “Just so ya know.”
I flick a brow as she disappears toward the front of the studio before my gaze drifts back to Allie. She’s standing, one arm lifted high, hand wrapped around the pole, as she kicks out a hip and watches me with an amused glitter in her eyes—accented by the blue lighting.
“Hi. What’re you doing here?” she asks, a sultry hue lining her soft tone.
“Was passing by the studio on my way home from training and remembered you had a class this afternoon. Thought I’d stop in and see if you wanted to grab dinner nearby.”
“Oh?” She leans to her side, bracing the pole as she steps forward and twirls around it. “The date you’ve been planning?”
Yes, but if you keep moving like that, we’re going to miss the reservation. “Maybe.”
She’s wearing black spandex shorts that ride up just enough to offer a glimpse of where her ass meets her thighs, her skin bouncing deliciously when she hops on one foot and does another spin.
The shorts ride up over her belly, and a matching sports bra leaves just a few inches of her midriff bare.
The bra was probably a perfect fit for her pre-pregnancy body, but now, her breasts spill over the top of it, shaking with each of her movements on the pole.
Her skin glistens with sweat, and as I step closer, I can make out the baby curls stuck to her forehead, and the ringlets falling out of her messy bun.
Allie climbs the pole, not all the way to the top, but just a foot or so off the ground before she kicks a leg around it and turns her body so that she’s facing outward. The position puts her at just about my height as I reach the pole.
“Maybe I hoped to catch a glimpse of you dancing too,” I say, aligning my body with hers.
Her lips quirk with a taunting smile. “And? What do you think?”
“I think you’re fucking unbelievable, Allie Cat,” I rasp, tilting my chin so that my lips reach hers. “I think you’re transcendent. Enchanting.” I arch my hips, and her warm gasp against my mouth tells me she feels the hardness of my straining length against her. “Unreal.”
She hooks her free leg behind my back, pulling me further into her. My hands fall to her belly, holding her there as I feather my lips between hers.
I kiss her hard and rough, swallowing her moan of surprise as I slide my tongue against her teeth and taste her thoroughly. I drag my mouth across her jaw, nipping and licking and suckling every inch of skin I can reach before I pull back, breathless.
It’s been nearly a month since the last time I had my tongue between her thighs, and I’m desperate for it again.
I told her my body was at her beck and call, but in the last few weeks, she was hit with a bout of back pain, heartburn, and fatigue, which kind of took sex off the table for a bit.
Plus, I had three team visits this month.
I got home a few days ago and will be back for the next couple of weeks before I leave for the combine. She seemed to have more energy and less pain since I returned, and I’m hoping that means she’ll be up for what I’m about to propose, because I’m utterly desperate for her in this moment.
Unhinged, I think.
“How long can you stay in this position?” I ask.
“My arms are definitely starting to jellify,” she says through a trembling sigh.
Fuck. I want to keep her right here. Right like this. Just slightly above me, hovering off the ground, body so strong and graceful. Like a goddamn fucking angel—a goddess.
A woman to worship.
I fall to the floor, keeping my palms on her stomach as I hit my knees.
They slide down, over her hips and past her thighs, grasping each knee and untangling her legs as I pull both of her legs over my shoulders and take her ass in my hands.
I crawl forward so her body is no longer arched, but her spine is straight against the pole.
“How about now?”
“Yeah.” She pants, nodding. “This is better.”
“Good.” I hook my fingers into the waistband of her shorts, peering up at her. “Can you see yourself in the reflection?”
Her eyes drift up, studying the wall of mirrors behind me. “Yes. Why?”
“Because I want you to watch while I eat your pussy, Allie.”
Allie
I can’t watch myself when Archer peels my shorts down my thighs, ducking beneath them so that they can tangle at my calves around his back. He holds my ass in his hands, kneading my flesh as his lashes flutter upward, and his blue eyes flare when they meet mine.
He slowly raises a brow, bringing his mouth to my center, breath hot over my core when he rasps, “I thought I told you to watch the mirror, Amor.”
A needy whimper is all I’m capable of mustering, so I respond with the shake of my head.
He flicks a brow, tsking before his tongue darts out with a teasing dance against my clit. “Don’t make me edge you, Allie Mae. I’m aching to devour this pretty pussy, but I’ll be patient, if I must.”
The words crawl from his throat, thick and heavy with arousal, landing across my skin with a rush of warmth that sends my atoms to buzz. Need coils in my low belly, forcing a whine from the depths of my being as my legs tremble uncontrollably.
I raise my chin, casting my gaze across the room to the mirror.
My chest expands with rapid breath, a bead of sweat rolling down my chest and falling into the valley of my breasts.
My skin glistens in the low, blue light, mouth parted as I pant through the haze of desire fogging my head.
My eyes are hooded, half-opened, but if I looked at them close-up, I know they’d be dark with lust and laced with passion.
I look at Archer next, where he kneels before me, like a man in worship—my body his altar.
He’s wearing a pair of loose shorts and a dry-fit tee that contours every fine line of his back and arms. His shoulders strain, flexing as they hold me up and spread me wide.
I watch my hands slip through the strands of his dark hair, tightening on the ends as his tongue finally flattens at my center, and he makes good on his word—devouring.
I see my own lips parting as his tongue makes its first long, languid stroke against me. Watch my toes curl as the sensation of his mouth sets a blaze inside my veins.
His moan vibrates my core, and the sight of my thighs trembling, hand clenching his hair, chest heaving, creates an out-of-body experience. I’m inside myself, experiencing every feeling his touch provides, but I’m also a voyeur, watching from a distance as a foreign entity is ravished entirely.