With the power back on, the air had chilled a few degrees, so I slipped beneath the thin blanket.
“I guess you want to leave before it gets too late,” I said, wishing this night didn’t have to end.
Archer crawled in bed behind me and tucked himself close. “Is that what you want?”
“No, but?—”
“Then I’m not going anywhere. Not for a while. How about we lie like this until you fall asleep? I’ll slip out and have Catcher sit by your door.”
“But then the door won’t be locked.”
“Catcher’s a badass. Nobody’s getting past him. Hell, nobody’s getting past Lucian’s funny farm of night-vision cameras.”
I stared at the bookshelf, my left hand tucked beneath the pillow. Archer lightly kissed my shoulder several times, his arm secured around my middle.
“I like that you have a clean shave,” I said offhandedly. “It doesn’t scratch me. And you’re not rough.”
His arm squeezed just a little tighter. “Are you okay?”
“I’m better than okay.”
Archer kissed the crook of my neck. “That was hotter than the first time.”
Nonplussed by his remark, I turned onto my back to lookat him. “What? I was in heat when we met. It’sneverbetter than that.”
“Not true. I guess it wasn’t for you, then.”
“No, it definitely was. But…” I shook my head.
For men, the sensation of being with a woman in heat was irresistible. Our scent became a powerful aphrodisiac. And penetration was hot, drawing them into the act.
“You don’t have to say things just to be nice.”
He ran his fingers through his blond hair, the brown roots more visible when he raked it back. “I was sober this time, and you were yourself. I don’t know, but that meant something.” Archer played with one of the charms on my bracelet. “I’m not like him. The first time we met, I gave a shitty impression. Our pack works hard around here, and sometimes, we go out and blow off steam. It was just one of those nights when I’d had a few too many, but alcohol isn’t my weakness.”
I searched his eyes. “Then whatisyour weakness?”
“You. You’re my weakness. I like being with you.” Archer tugged on one of the charms. “Do these mean anything? I’ve been trying to decipher the importance of a bicycle.”
I lifted my left arm. “My father started this on my tenth birthday when I decided I was old enough to wear jewelry. The chain was too big, so I put a safety pin through the links until I grew into it. The bicycle was the first one because he taught me how to ride a bike that year. Each birthday, he would pick a charm that reminded me of an event that occurred that same year.”
“The owl?”
“We had an owl living in the attic, and the hooting was driving him crazy. So I walked around hooting all the time.”
He moved the charms around and chuckled. “A pot holder?”
“I was obsessed with baking when I was fourteen. We had more cookies that year than we could eat, so I would put them inthese pretty boxes and leave them on the park benches where the homeless slept.”
He laced his fingers in mine.
“I was too shy to approach them. It probably would have been more polite.”
“You were only fourteen. I’m glad you didn’t. You have a good heart, Cici, but you have to be careful.”
A memory unlocked and made me smile. “That’s what my father used to say.”
“I wish I could have met him. He sounds like a hell of a guy.”
