Page 162

Archer flashes a sweet smile. “I have hope now.”

“I’ve seen you with Owen and the babies. No doubt you’d be a great father.”

“Well, playing with someone else’s kids and raising your own is a little different,” he says.

“That’s true. Right now, I get to be the cool, fun aunt. Meanwhile, their parents have to worry about college funds and their futures.”

“But you want that eventually?”

I exhale and grin. “Yeah. I’d love to be a mom. I’ll never neglect my kids like my mother did, but the fear of not being good enough has entered my brain a time or two.”

Archer places his palm over my stomach. “I love the thought of you carrying my baby someday. I have no doubt you’d be the best mother.”

“You say things like that, and I’m gonna beg you to knock me up right now.”

He releases a choke-laugh and shakes his head. “Tyler just got used to us being together. Let’s not give him a stroke. Or me, for that matter.”

I chuckle, swinging my leg over him and sinking deeper into the mattress. “Alright, fine. I like having you to myself anyway. I don’t wanna share you just yet.”

He grabs one of my breasts and squeezes. “Same.”

The next morning, I wake up to Archer bringing me coffee and breakfast in bed. We spend most of the day lounging, walking around outside, and cooking. It’s the most chill day I’ve had in months.

“Are you ready for Raphaël to give you the best massage you’ve ever had?” Archer says in a half-assed French accent.

I burst out laughing when he leads me into our room and motions for me to lie on the bed.

“Raphaël? Are you my fantasy come to life?”

“Yes, madame. At your service.”

The lights are dimmed, and there’s spa music playing from his phone. It smells like he sprayed some lavender mist too. There’s a thick white towel on top of the covers, and after I remove my robe and lie on my back, I realize it’s warm.

“Did you put this in the dryer?” I ask, impressed.

“Of course, only the best for you, chérie.”

I can’t contain my smile as I think about the effort Archer put into making this a relaxing experience. Earlier, he drew me a hot bubble bath and streamed classical music while he set up everything. I thought it was sweet, but this is beyond my expectations. No one has ever done anything like this for me.

“I’m gonna place this hot cloth over your eyes. Keep your arms by your sides at all times unless I move them,” he orders. I have a feeling that’s going to be harder than it sounds.

Once my eyes are covered, I try to release all the tension in my shoulders. Archer has complete control over my body, and I find satisfaction in that.

Archer slathers lotion between his palms. I anticipate the coldness once he touches me, but it doesn’t come. He must’ve warmed up the bottle beforehand. His calloused hands roam over my thighs, and the rough texture feels incredible against my skin. Archer digs his thumb and fingers into my muscles, carefully massaging his way down my leg.

“Madame, you feel tense. We need to loosen you up,” he says softly. I smile at his attempt at a French accent but secretly love it.

“Yes, please. Loosen me all the way up, sir.”

Archer rubs my feet next, thoroughly massaging between each toe and digging into my heels. My feet are usually sore from standing all day.

After he glides his palms up, he spreads my legs apart, slowly and torturously moving his fingers to my pussy. I wait with anticipation as he teases the flesh around my clit. I inhale sharply and keep my arms still like he instructed, but if he continues to play with me, I won’t think twice about grabbing his hand and moving it right where I need it.

“You’re tight here too, l'amoureux,” he says as he dips a finger inside.

“Mm-hmm.” I moan.

“Wet too.”