“What if I don’t want to stop?”
His eyes searched mine. “You’re sure?”
Instead of answering, I kissed him again. Poured everything I felt into it—want and need and three years of wondering whatthis would feel like. He met me with equal intensity, his control fracturing completely.
His hands moved under my shirt, warm against my skin. I arched into the touch and he made that sound again, the one that went straight through me. My hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. He helped me get it over his head before pulling me back against him, skin to skin.
The sensation was overwhelming. His mouth moved from my lips to my jaw to my neck, finding spots that made me gasp. His hands mapped my back, my sides, anywhere he could reach. I traced the muscles of his chest and shoulders, learning the shape of him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against my collarbone. “So perfect.”
I pulled him back up to kiss me and he took over immediately, one hand sliding into my hair while the other gripped my hip. The kiss turned hungry, demanding, his control slipping completely as he pressed me back into the mattress.
His mouth moved to my neck and I grabbed his shoulders, my breath coming faster. His hands were everywhere, learning the shape of me with attention that made me forget how to think.
“Archie,” I breathed.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and intent. “Say that again.”
Before I could, his phone rang.
The sound cut through the moment like cold water. Archie cursed quietly against my shoulder, his entire body going tense.
The phone kept ringing, insistent.
He lifted his head reluctantly and glanced at the screen on the nightstand. His expression shifted. “It’s the tow company.”
“Oh.”
He grabbed the phone, still holding me with his other arm like he couldn’t quite let go yet. “Hello?” His voice was rough.He listened for a moment. “Yeah. No, that’s great actually. We found another solution… Yeah, we’re fine. Thanks for letting me know.”
He hung up and looked at me. “They managed to get someone free earlier than expected. Asked if we still needed them.”
“What did you say?”
“That we’re fine.” He set his phone aside, his hand returning to my waist. “Was that okay?”
I nodded, suddenly very aware that we were still tangled together, that his hands were still on me, that we’d been seconds away from something we couldn’t take back.
The room felt different now — like the storm had passed but the air was still charged from the lightning.
“We should probably…take it slower?” I was still catching my breath.
“Yeah.” But he didn’t move immediately, didn’t let go. His forehead pressed against mine. “Though slowing down is the last thing I want to do right now.”
I climbed off his lap and he looked genuinely pained by the loss of contact, but there was something else in his expression too. Relief, maybe. Like he’d been thinking the same thing about moving too fast.
My body missed him immediately, but my mind knew we needed the pause. The moment had been perfect—almost too perfect—and slowing down felt like choosing something real instead of something reckless.
We lay down on the bed, facing each other. The room felt different now—still warm, still intimate, but without the urgency from moments before.
Archie’s hand found mine between us, fingers threading through mine. I studied his face in the candle lights, the strongline of his jaw, the way his hair was completely wrecked from my hands, how his eyes stayed fixed on me.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to.
We stayed like that, just looking at each other, hands joined between us. His thumb traced lazy patterns on my skin and I let my eyes drift closed, feeling safer than I had in years.
The last thing I registered before sleep claimed me was his warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing.
