Chapter 25
TWENTY FIVE
DARCY
I dabbed a very damp tissue at my eye. This movie always made me cry, but it was hitting embarrassingly hard tonight.
Not even the occasional brush of Archer’s body against mine could rein the waterworks in.
A glance over at him revealed completely dry eyes, but his bottom lip was held captive by his teeth.
When the credits began rolling, and I had my emotions in check, I turned to face him, careful of the empty ice cream bowls between us.
“So? What’d you think?”
“It was a very touching film,” he answered, repositioning himself so he was facing me. The odds that he was merely saying that to placate me were high, but I’d take it.
“Right? You’re welcome for providing you with some culture.” I smiled, grabbing the bowls and walking them to the kitchen sink. The sight of the microwave and the tiny numbers it displayed snagged my attention on the way. “Damn. When did it get late?”
Archer stretched over the back of the couch, and my eyes followed the movement, watching how the muscles in his arms flexed and shifted. “Pretty much when we started the movie.”
“You should’ve kicked me out.” Padding back over to the couch, I searched for where I’d dropped my car keys.
“Never.” He was sitting upright again, watching me in my hunt. “You can stay here, you know.”
I stilled, my heart picking up a pounding rhythm as I turned to look at him, trying to figure out what he was getting at.
Stay here as in on the couch, or stay over like in his bed?
Stay because he was being a considerate but otherwise unaffected man?
Or stay over because he wanted me like I’d been wanting him ever since he opened the front door in his suit?
The fact that he was still in his suit, minus the jacket, did nothing to stop my mind from sprinting in the direction of indecent.
He’d proven to be overly attentive when it came to me, so there was a good chance he was trying to spare me from having to drive home in the dark this late at night, but there was also a heat in his eyes, that I was almost positive I wasn’t imagining.
We stared at each other for a long time, neither of us speaking as we tried to read the other person. At least, that’s what I was doing.
“Are you just trying to be nice?” I pressed.
He rose from the couch and took a step in my direction. “Nice was the last thing on my mind.”
My pulse ratcheted up a notch. “What was on your mind?”
He stalked closer, and I swore I could feel every step like electricity in my veins.
“That it’s late on a Saturday night. That it’s freezing outside.
” He was in front of me now, his hands bracketing my hips.
“And that this dress has been driving me crazy all night. If it didn’t look so damn good on you, I’d set it on fire for the torment it’s put me through. ”
Well, then. I guess I definitely wasn’t imagining the heat in his eyes.
“That’s a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think? It’s only a dress,” I teased, glancing down at the shiny material.
“I, and too many of my coworkers, would have to respectfully disagree.” His voice had taken on an edge, and I had to admit, jealousy, possessiveness, or whatever it was darkening his tone, was sexy on Archer.
“Don’t like other people ogling your pregnant fake girlfriend?”
“No.” He didn’t hesitate.
Pulling my lower lip between my teeth, I let my eyes skate down his body. There was no reason to keep toying with him, my body had already made up my mind as to what I’d be doing tonight, but I couldn’t resist.
“So if I stay . . . will one of us be on the couch?”
He glowered. “No.”
“Will there be sleeping?” I volleyed.
“Minimal.”
“Are we adding minimal sleeping to our kissing truce then?” I held my breath, waiting for his response.
Pulling my body flush up against the hard plane of his stomach, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that had me fighting the urge to squirm in his hold.
“Add it to whatever you want, just tell me yes.” Dropping his head to my neck, he skimmed his mouth over my pulse point, my breath leaving my lungs in a rush.
Crossing this line with him had all the potential to be a bad idea; it could make this situation we were in so much messier if his feelings didn’t prove to be the same as my own, but I didn’t care. I’d cross that bridge if and when we got there. Right now, I wanted him.
“Yes,” I barely managed to whisper before his lips were crashing into mine, swallowing my moan, and coaxing my mouth open, consuming me like a man starved.
My hands delved into his hair, anchoring him to me until I was half convinced I didn’t need oxygen anymore.
I could simply breathe him in and survive perfectly fine.
My feet suddenly flew out from beneath me, one of Archer’s arms behind my knees, the other wrapped firmly around my back. A shocked giggle escaped me as he walked us up the stairs to his bedroom where he set me gently down on my feet.
“Turn around.” The command was low, his voice gravelly, as I spun away from him.
His fingers trailed lightly up my back, and a shiver rippled through my body, my nipples hardening against the cool silk.
Pinching the zipper, he slowly slid it down my spine before letting it go all together, the fabric pooling in a heap at my feet. I stepped out and turned to face him.
Eyes the same deep green of my dress pored over my skin, skimming over my panties and catching on my bare breasts.
He sucked in a sharp breath and closed the distance between us, his mouth coming back to mine in a hard kiss that had my head spinning.
My fingers flew to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them not nearly fast enough, and then his shirt joined my dress on the floor.
“Get on the bed.” Another command. And if I wasn’t so crazed with lust, I might’ve had a smart retort for him, but as it was, my mind was buzzing with desire, leaving little room for anything else. I crawled to the middle of the bed, kneeling back on my heels.
“Fuck me, look at you.”
Self-consciousness flooded through me despite the fact that they were words of admiration.
The last time he’d seen me naked, I was fit—arguably the fittest I’d ever been—and now I was six months pregnant.
The fact that my bump was small by most pregnant ladies standards didn’t change the fact that it felt huge for me, and I was no longer as confident as I’d been when we first slept together.
Whatever Archer saw on my face had him crawling onto the bed, clasping my chin in his hand and guiding my gaze to his, while his other rested on the side of my rounded stomach.
It was the first time he’d touched my bump, and my heart leapt at the gesture.
“Stop. You’re beautiful. You were beautiful before, and you’re fucking beyond sexy like this. Get out of your own head.”
I nodded, at a loss for words. Instead, I let my hands go to his belt, deftly undoing the buckle, and then the button of his suit pants.
He stood, allowing them to fall down the thick columns of his thighs before rejoining me on the bed.
Grabbing my foot, he placed a kiss to the inside of my ankle, and another right above that, until he’d worked his way up to the inside of my knee.
“Archer.” I don’t know if I was cautioning or begging him, but he silenced me with a firm kiss.
“Shhh,” he whispered, stretching an arm out behind me to grab a pillow and wedge it behind my back. Placing a hand against my chest, he urged me backwards. “Now, lie back and be loud. I didn’t get to hear you scream the first time around.”
Then his fingers were pushing my panties to the side, and his mouth was on me, tongue swirling around my entrance before delving into my core.
He lifted his head a minute later to glide my underwear over my ass and toss them into the corner of his room.
His mouth moved to my clit, alternating between flicking and sucking, as he set a rhythm that had me gasping and moaning for more.
He pushed a finger inside me at the same time his other hand came up to palm my breast, fingers lightly pinching my nipple.
“Oh my god! Holy shit!” I cried, throwing my head back further into the pillow as my hips pressed into his face. He added another finger, stretching me deliciously as he plunged them in and out, his tongue sweeping over my clit, my body coiling tighter and tighter.
“More, Archer. More. Please,” I begged, not caring how desperate I sounded.
He chuckled against my skin, then picked up his pace. The fingers toying with my nipple clamped down harder, rolling the tight bud between the pads of his fingertips and sending a flash of white-hot heat through my body.
“I’m. Gonna—” I panted mindlessly, my muscles tensing.
“Come for me,” Archer growled, then sucked my clit into his mouth. I flew apart, my orgasm ripping through me as I screamed his name.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, still lapping at my entrance.
“Now. I need you now.” I sat up, reaching down to slip my fingers into the waistband of his boxers and shoving them roughly down his narrow hips. He knelt back, giving me better access to wrap my hand around his cock and stroke him eagerly before taking his length in my mouth.
His groan was pure bliss. “Darcy.”
I hummed, sucking him harder and deeper into my mouth as I tried to relax my throat to take more of him.
His fingers threaded through my hair, gently guiding my head up and down. “Holy hell, Darcy. Yes.”
I swirled my tongue around the smooth head, my hand pumping him as I did.
Archer’s hands came to my shoulders, gently pushing me off him and back onto the pillow. Smirking, he placed his hands on either side of my head, and hovered over me. “Are you on birth control, or should I get a condom?”
Laughter bubbled out of me. “Neither. Shut up and get in me.”