His messy, thick, overlong, dark hair.
The heavy stubble on his strong jaw.
Those damned lips that were perfect.
He had a smattering of hair on his chest and belly, itwasn’t thick or long, though it got dense where it led into his boxers.
He was cut in a lean way.
He was really tall.
He had some tats on his arms, but the one that took herattention was over his heart.
It saidK.D.H.W.G.
She had no idea what that meant, but she could guess “D” wasDutch, “W” was Wilder and “G” was Graham, his dad.
So the others: Mom and Stepdad.
Stepdad got better billing.
Real dad coming up the rear.
They’d be getting into that.
She sat at the side of the bed and she wanted to touch him,but she didn’t.
If she did, she wouldn’t stop.
She might not ever stop.
Archie was not afraid of that thought.
He gave her peace.
She was at one with anything, because of him.
She wanted to crawl into his lap like a little girl.
She wanted to ride his face like an Amazon.
She wanted to press against his back on his bike.
She wanted to stand by his side on the edge of the GrandCanyon and stare at forever.
She wanted to trade shots of raw spirit with him in Nepallike Marion inRaiders of the Lost Ark.
She wanted him to make her dad know she was okay and alwayswould be so her father could stop worrying about her.
She wanted to sit on a mountain and watch the sun set thenfuck and talk until they could turn the other way and watch the sun rise.
She wanted to bow before him and let him fuck her cunt likehe owned it.
She wanted to mistress his hair and make him ask herpermission if he ever wanted to cut it.
She wanted to watch him gnaw meat from a bone.
She wanted to bake his every next birthday cake.
