Chapter Six
Since Eternity
Archie
The next morning, Jagger turned and sprawled over
onto his back when Archie slid away from him in bed.
She sat on the side and took him in.
His messy, thick, overlong, dark hair.
The heavy stubble on his strong jaw.
Those damned lips that were perfect.
He had a smattering of hair on his chest and belly, it
wasn’t thick or long, though it got dense where it led into his boxers.
He was cut in a lean way.
He was really tall.
He had some tats on his arms, but the one that took her
attention was over his heart.
It said K.D.H.W.G.
She had no idea what that meant, but she could guess “D” was
Dutch, “W” was Wilder and “G” was Graham, his dad.
So the others: Mom and Stepdad.
Stepdad got better billing.
Real dad coming up the rear.
They’d be getting into that.
She sat at the side of the bed and she wanted to touch him,
but she didn’t.
If she did, she wouldn’t stop.
She might not ever stop.
Archie was not afraid of that thought.
He gave her peace.
She was at one with anything, because of him.
She wanted to crawl into his lap like a little girl.
She wanted to ride his face like an .
She wanted to press against his back on his bike.
She wanted to stand by his side on the edge of the Grand
Canyon and stare at forever.
She wanted to trade shots of raw spirit with him in Nepal
like Marion in Raiders of the Lost Ark.
She wanted him to make her dad know she was okay and always
would be so her father could stop worrying about her.
She wanted to sit on a mountain and watch the sun set then
fuck and talk until they could turn the other way and watch the sun rise.
She wanted to bow before him and let him fuck her cunt like
he owned it.
She wanted to mistress his hair and make him ask her
permission if he ever wanted to cut it.
She wanted to watch him gnaw meat from a bone.
She wanted to bake his every next birthday cake.
She wanted to argue with him over which new couch to buy.
She wanted him to pull her over his thighs and spank her
then shove her between them and fuck her face.
She wanted her symbol tatted into the palm of his hand,
because that was where he had her.
She wanted his symbol in the palm of hers, right under her
puddle of tears.
She wanted to get their tarot read together.
She wanted to listen to his heart with a stethoscope.
She wanted his cock up her ass.
She wanted to claim his.
She wanted him to paint her toenails.
She wanted every inch of him.
Every centimeter.
Every thought.
She wanted to give him every inch of her.
Every centimeter.
Every thought.
And none of this frightened her.
She felt nothing but peace.
Because he was hers.
And he had been since she was fourteen.
And she was his.
She knew this.
Because she had been since eternity.
And finally.
He was right there.