“Good morning,” she greeted from the end of the bed.
“It is that,” he said when she freed one button, revealing one perfect breast. “Baby, bring that to my mouth.”
She giggled, crawling onto the bed, moving over him, her breast swaying gently as she hovered.
“Feed it to me,” he rasped. “Let me suck that pretty nipple.”
When she was close enough, he took her into his mouth, flicking the little nub with his tongue. His hands joined the party because he couldn’tnottouch her. All that smooth, warm skin.
“That feels good,” she whispered, freeing the other button. The shirt fell open, giving him access to both her breasts.
They were barely a handful but sheer perfection as far as he was concerned.
“Are you sore?”
“Not enough to forego an opportunity.”
“What opportunity might…” The words died on his lips, replaced by a soft groan when she took him in hand, stroking his rock-hard erection as she guided his cock between her legs.
He sighed as she sank down on him, her smooth, slick walls stretching around him. He placed his palms on her thighs and watched as she began to ride his dick. Up, down, forward, back. She moved slowly, as though she wanted to savor the sensation.
“Oh, yeah. Fuck me, Vi.”
He liked that she was still wearing his shirt. It was sexy as fuck to watch his woman ride his dick while wearing his shirt. He’d never seen anything quite so potent.
“Have you been awake long?” he asked.
She smiled, continuing to fuck him. “Half an hour, maybe.”
“You could’ve woken me.”
Her eyes glittered with amusement. “I was about to.”
Simon reached between her legs and teased her clit with his thumb. “Because your greedy pussy needed my cock?”
“Yes.”
“Take your time, baby. I live to let you use me.”
•••••
Archer stood beneath the spray, letting theheat of the water soothe the pain in his muscles.
As he’d promised Spencer when they got here last night, he had let the man take the bed while he spent the night on the floor. Based on the aches in his muscles and joints, it was clear he wasn’t twenty-five anymore. The last place he needed to sleepwas on the hard floor, yet he’d been doing it for the past week to accommodate other people.
Not that he’d questioned the idea last night. It had been an easy choice. Especially after what Spencer told him during their walk from the bar to the bed and breakfast.
Y’all have a thing before?
No. The bitch raped me.
Archer wasn’t prone to rage, nor had he ever put his hands on anyone—male or female—without being provoked first, but as soon as Spencer’s words registered, he’d had to talk himself off the ledge. For the next hour, he’d been tempted to find that bitch and put his hands around her neck and slowly squeeze the fucking life out of her.
He didn’t know Spencer, didn’t know the first thing about him aside from him having a nice smile, but those few words out of his mouth rang with a horrifying truth.
After his rage passed, Archer spent the night staring up at the ceiling, listening to Spencer snore, wondering if he should’ve said something. The problem was, he hadn’t been sure what to say. He didn’t know Spencer. Only from their brief interaction at the bookstore, and he could admit, that hadn’t been nearly enough. For the past couple of days, he’d been hoping for another encounter. He’d thought there might be an opportunity last night when he caught sight of Spencer sitting at the bar. Unfortunately, he’d been trying to console Paige—her boyfriend of six months broke up with her (again)—or he would’ve approached Spencer sooner.
But then that woman showed up, and his opportunity disappeared. He’d planned to wait until he saw him again, but then he’d noticed the woman coming on a little too strong.
