He could climb in opposite me, tangle our legs, and face each other. He could sit and not touch me at all; there’s enough room for it. But I want to rest against his chest. I want to lay my head on his shoulder and luxuriatein the comfort of his arms. So he steps in and lowers, framing my body with his thighs and dragging me back the very second he’s down. He splays one hand on my belly, his thumb between my breasts, and his pinky touching my pelvic bone.
Lying here together, stripped to our skin, it’s all a reminder of how small I am compared to him. How ridiculously easy it would be for him to scare me. To overpower me. But he chooses gentleness instead. He chooses comfort and care, berating me for not being as delicate with myself as he is.
“I’ve never had the ability to read minds in the past, Minnnka.” He drags his hand through the water, lifting it above the surface and trailing droplets over my chest. “I can’t even say I read yours. But I know when you’re overwhelmed. I’ve learned to read the clues when you’re in complete sensory overload.”
“Stop using those crackpot words. You don’t get to diagnose me.”
He chuckles softly in my ear. “No diagnoses. Just an observation. When you want to be touched, you lean in my direction. When you want quiet, you lean away. When we’re in a social setting and the noise is too loud, you do this thing…” He walks his fingers between my breasts, only to surprise me by tapping the tip of my nose. “You scrunch it. My best guess is you’re trying to close your ears without actually plugging them.”
“I plugged them today.” I extend my legs and simply float, anchoring myself under Archer’s hand and resting my ear against the side of his neck, so his throbbing pulse becomes mine. “There were way too many people. Too much talking. Too much noise.”
“And then you came home andshushedme.” He trails his fingertips over my collarbone. “Proof I’d figured you out.”
“I like that you can read me.” I close my eyes and exhale. “I have a bad habit of turning into a total bitch when I’mdonewith people. I never learned how to communicate properly when I was like that, so instead of saying I’m overwhelmed and need a minute of quiet, I tell people to shut the fuck up.”
He chuckles.
“It’s rude.”
“You’ve never told me to shut the fuck up. Means I’ve never quite tiptoed into the same category as everyone else.” He tilts his face just a fraction of an inch, feathering a kiss against my forehead. “You invite me in, even when you’re locking the rest of the world out. It’s humbling.”
“You act like I’m doing you a favor by needing you around.” Carefully, I twist in his arms and turn all the way over, resting my chest against hisand peppering a kiss against his lips. “Like being my crutch is a fun thing to be. IknowI take more than I give.”
“Not true.” He cups my face and returns my kiss with another. Deeper. Sweeter. And just a little more daring when his tongue darts forward and taps mine. “You give meyou. Which is all I need.”
I reach between us and fist his cock, surprising a heavy breath from the depths of his chest. Then I draw myself higher, closer, lining us up, and slide down again, swallowing him all the way to the base. “Maybe you weren’t going to hit on me. Being Mr. Sensitive and all that.” I ignore the small ache in my knee and consider it the price of admission, because I get to ride his perfect body instead, groaning as he submerges his hands and holds my hips, and whimpering when he surges upwards, filling me to the brim and hitting the exact right angle to leave me breathless.
“I didn’t agree not to hit on you, though. This is how I de-stress.Youare how I de-stress.”
“I’m happy to be of service.” He sets his feet on the floor and drives up to meet each roll of my hips, filling me to bursting and stealing the oxygen straight out of my lungs. “Fuck, Minka.” He nibbles on my tongue. “I will never get enough of you.”
ARCHER
Icross our bedroom, from the bathroom to the closet, and pass a snoring Chloe curled up on the end of our bed. I know we have to go downstairs soon. Spend time with my family. I’ll have to share my wife. But I meet her eyes first and thrill at her saucy smile. Because she happily relaxes into a chair by the black-screened television, sipping on a can of Pepsi with wet hair tied into a messy ponytail, and her delicious body wrapped in a shirt we both know belongs to me.
It’s too big—by double—and the neck hole stretched long ago, which means the fabric hangs loose, exposing a portion of her shoulder and the black strap of a sports bra she folded herself into after our bath.
We have guests downstairs, whether we invited them to stay or not, and I know she wants to check on Steve. She’s itching to do so. But for just another minute, while I move through our closet and select a pair of sweatpants and a shirt to drag over my head, she curls into her chair in yoga shorts that show off deliciously toned legs and a sculpted ass. She sits with her feet up, her knees lifted, and her legs tilted to the side, and when I exit the closet and step back into our room, she angles her head lazily to the left, her eyes hungrily warming my skin in all the best ways.
“I feel better now.”
I stab my right arm through the hole of my shirt. Then the left. “Good. We’ve had a lot going on lately. I don’t remember the last time we hung out, just the two of us.”
“Pretty sure it was before Cato moved in.” She grins over the lip of hercan, flashing two devious dimples and glittering eyes. “He set up camp on our couch, and I think that was the end of the life we knew.”
And yet, I don’t have to wonder if she’s mad about the intrusion, or if she hates my brother. I don’t have to feel guilty for the baggage my family brings. Because she’s had chances, countless times, to get rid of him. And every time the topic comes up, she’s the one who demands he stay. She’s the one who whispers in the hall when he needs words, and drags him in for a hug when he needs touch.
Because he’s the kid who never had a mom, and fuck, but he stilldesperatelyneeds one.
“I feel kinda bad that we’ve been here for two days and we’ve hardly spent time with Cato.” Lowering her drink, she suckles on her bottom lip. “We were always on top of each other at the apartment. We didn’t have a choice. But here, it’s too easy to lock ourselves away and ignore the world.”
“I like that we have the choice. Coming to our room for privacy, and going downstairs when we’re happy to be with them. And don’t worry so much.” I wander to her chair and set my hands on the armrests, searching her eyes and dropping a kiss on her upturned lips. “Christabelle’s been here for those two days, so he’s more than happy in her company. I doubt he feels neglected at all.” I straighten my back and fix my lopsided shirt. “He’ll come looking for you once she’s gone.”
“You think he’ll sit outside our bedroom door?”
Chuckling, I take her hand in mine and drag her to her feet, careful not to hurt her knee or jostle her drink. “I think he’ll make a nest in our closet on the days he wants to be near.”
She scoffs.
