After stripping off his clothes, he stepped into the hot shower and let the water beat down on his head.
“Fuck.”
He was still diamond hard. He’d woken up with a raging hard-on, which had nothing to do with the strippers and sex workers the night before. His mind had been too distracted, his body too drunk.
That changed when he got back to the hotel and crashed. The erotic dreams he’d had of Cecilia were surreal and yet so vivid that he woke up at one point thinking she was in theroom.
Archer shampooed his hair first. While the conditioner set, he used one hand to carefully shake out a travel-sized bottle of soap in his palm. Nothing came easy, and since he didn’t want to spill the soap from his hand, he let the bottle drop to the tub basin. Archer washed his left armpit only, yet another fucking reminder that he didn’t have two hands. Since he wasn’t a contortionist, he didn’t bother with the right armpit. At home, he used a scrub brush.
While steam filled the room, he thought about Noah dropping more than a thousand dollars on lap dances, sensory exchanges, and God knew what else that took place later in that soundproof room.
Archer didn’t usually drink that much, but as the night wore on, it was the only way to drown the rage bubbling beneath the surface.
He had initially liked Noah. He was a braggart, but who wasn’t? And ignoring the fact they didn’t have food in the house, Noah treated Cecilia decently from what he’d seen. But now Archer saw him for what he really was—a depraved alcoholic.
The only consolation was knowing they weren’t officially mated. Archer recognized how she might be aware of his habits. But after last night, he came to the realization that his wolf smelled competition.
Which meant one thing: Archer wantedher—a horse Shifter. It went against every instinct. She didn’t behave like a wolf, and Archer hadn’t spent enough time around horses to understand their traits.
Cecilia was everything he’d never desired. She didn’t dress provocatively, and every woman he’d ever gone after was the hottest and most unattainable woman in the territory. Cecilia was a bookworm who would rather read than go out, whereas Archer was the life of the party. She was quiet but always had something meaningful to say. And from the way she talked about her fatherand Noah, she was capable of deep love and unwavering loyalty. There was something so luminous about her—so pure—that he couldn’t get her out of his mind.
Things aren’t what they seem.Those were her words. Did she know about the women? It almost didn’t matter. She knew Noah wasn’t the right man for her, and that’s why she’d sought out Archer.
If that didn’t get him hotter than fuck, nothing did. Now his dick was tight, and the ache in the pit of his stomach made it impossible to ignore. Archer wanted nothing more in that moment than to pursue her.
Help her.
Save her.
Save himself.
He felt feverish just being near her. Archer’s hand slowly stroked his shaft as he remembered that night. The way she looked at him like he was the only man that mattered. The way he felt needed in her arms, as if he was her life preserver.
“Fuck,” he breathed, quickening his strokes.
He’d never felt so sensitive and wound up all at once. Flashes of the wicked things they had done that night mingled with fantasies of what he wanted to do.
Archer flattened his back against the cold tile, and the hot water sluiced down on his throbbing erection.
Damn, how he wanted her in there. All stripped down, wet, and begging for him to touch her. Kneeling, licking, sucking, water cascading over her breasts as she pleasured him with her mouth. Then he would do the same with her until she cried out his name.
His wolf stirred with anticipation.
Two months had passed since their fling, and he couldn’t fantasize about other women. Archer hadn’t evenbeenwith another woman since Cecilia.
She had wrecked him, body and soul.
He remembered her eyes on him while he pleasured himself, the way she had reached over and cupped his balls the way he liked. Archer nearly crumbled at the memory.
Then his thoughts switched to Noah and those women—how he didn’t deserve Cecilia.
Archer circled his palm repeatedly over his smooth head and growled low in his throat, his wolf pushing against his skin, needing the release.
A dark smile crossed his face when he remembered the night he and Cecilia first met. He thought about how they had fucked on Noah’s precious Camaro. Andthatfelt territorial, making his wolf stir with pride.
Mine.
His head lolled back, and the pressure tightened like a coil as he edged closer and felt warm tingles rising. The sexual fantasies in his head faded until all he saw was Cecilia kissing him deep and long, her fingers brushing against his short hair, her body flush to his. A claiming kiss that broke long enough for her to whisper,I’m yours.
