I felt a tight pulse between my legs when my thoughts driftedback to the bookstore. How we toppled onto the floor with all the paint.
In my fantasies, there were never any fears or worries. Noah didn’t have to exist. I’d often fantasized about the men in the novels I read. Different scenarios, different storylines. I didn’t always live in a tiny house in the woods. Sometimes I was me, and other times I was someone else.
What might have happened if Archer and I had kissed? There was a fleeting moment when it crossed my mind—when I could have gripped his face in my hands and pulled him to me. When his hand was between my legs.
The thought was incendiary, and my hand slid down to my panties.
The kiss grows hotter.
Wetter.
Deeper.
He pulls my panties off, smears of yellow paint coloring my leg. Then he’s inside me. Our bodies clash, colors blending like paints on a palette.
I can’t stop touching myself, and it’s better than the other times.
Archer rips my shirt open as he keeps driving into me. His mouth is on my nipple, sucking hard enough that I claw at his back.
My fantasy shifts to the scene with us walking alongside the road. Him pushing me into the grass and lifting my skirt in the shadows. Then I think of how itchy that would be and go back to the bookstore scene. Only, instead of us on the floor, there is a sturdy table in the back.
I have my legs spread open to him, and he’s pumping his hips, his eyes on mine. It’s fierce, wild, and every nerve ending in my body is alive.
I circled my fingers faster, thoughts of his seasoned kiss entering my mind like forbidden desire.
Bending my right knee, I imagine him in the room with me.Standing in the corner and emerging from the shadows. Asking me to take off my panties, kneeling on the floor so he can slide his tongue up my thigh.
When a needy moan escaped my lips, my eyes widened with fright.
Oh my God, Joy’s here. How loud was I? Did she hear me? I could just die.
Embarrassed, I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes. All I could think about was her lying in bed, wide-eyed and laughing. Would she tell everyone at home? Would Archer find out?
As my heartbeat slowed down, I pondered what Archer was really like with other women. Did he cuddle with them, or did he put on his pants and leave right after? Noah always rolled off me and went to sleep. Everything about what we did felt procedural for his benefit, and once he got what he needed, I got the cold shoulder. But we were in a relationship, and that’s probably what couples did.
A guy like Archer could have anyone, so he likely didn’t want to settle. There was too much fruit out there to taste—too many temptations. If he was half as attentive to a mate as he was to me, she would be a lucky woman.
Stop thinking about Archer.
That morning,I showered early, anxious about my store opening. After putting on a blue maxi dress, I noticed the presence of a stranger in the house.
Joy was standing in the kitchen with a glass of water, already dressed in grey leggings and a purple poncho tunic. Her champagne-colored hair was beautifully styled, but I knew it must have taken work to get her big curls not to frizz.
I could barely bring myself to look her in the eye, afraid she’d overheard me the previous night.
“I slept like the dead.” After a yawn, Joy flicked her blue eyes up and smiled. “Are we ready?”
“For what?”
“Breakfast!”
My tummy did a nervous dip as I entered the kitchen. “I’m sorry we don’t have juice or coffee.”
“Nonsense.”
What do people talk about in the morning who barely know each other?
“Did you sleep okay?”
