But I don’t care. I’m drunk on the sensation of his body pressing into mine, his hungry mouth, his insistent tongue, those big, rough hands pinning me to the bed.

I had no idea being held down would arouse me so much, but oh my God, I’m so hot for him I feel like I’m going to burst.

“Promise not to go straight for my dick?” he whispers in my ear after breaking our kiss.

I want to laugh. I also want to moan. His blunt words turn me on too. “Maybe I really want to go straight for your dick.”

His eyes lock with mine. They’re dark and full of smoldering heat. “I already told you what might happen if you did that.”

Oh yes, he sure did. I might want to witness that too. In fact, the idea is amazingly hot. Me stroking him, Archer losing all control and coming all over my fingers . . .

Restlessly I rub my legs against his, and he chuckles as if he can read my mind. “Promise me you won’t make a grab.”

“I can’t promise you that,” I whisper.

“Then let me touch you.” His voice lowers as his fingers loosen gently around my wrists. Until they’re slipping away and he’s nuzzling my neck with his face, his hands skimming along my sides. “I want to explore you.”

I’m not going to protest. That’s exactly what I want him to do. So instead of making a grab for his dick—as he so kindly says—I sling my arms around his neck, my hands in his hair, gently guiding him down as he rains kisses across my collarbone, my chest, the tops of my br**sts, the valley between my br**sts . . .

He’s teasing me. My n**ples ache for his mouth to wrap around them and his lips are everywhere but my n**ples. I don’t know if I can stand this exquisite torture, his hands gripping my hips, his mouth all over my sensitive skin. I tighten my hold on his hair, tugging hard until he mutters a curse word against my flesh before he licks one nipple.

Then he licks the other.

The ragged moan that escapes me is nothing like the usual sounds I make in bed, and I clamp my lips shut, momentarily embarrassed. But then he does it again, his velvety damp tongue flicking back and forth over my nipple, driving me absolutely wild. Another shuddery moan leaves me, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, holding him to me as he licks and sucks and edges his teeth on my flesh, gently nipping. Testing me.

It feels so good I want more. Oh God, I’m crazed with wanting his teeth on me, his hands all over me. “Harder,” I whisper, my request shocking myself and he bites my nipple, hard.

Between my legs I go loose and damp and when he glides his fingers through my soaked folds, his thumb sweeping over my clit, I shake my head frantically. “No, not like this. Please.”

“Want me inside you?” He whispers the heated words against my br**sts, and I crack open my eyes to find him watching me. His gaze is dark, full of forbidden promise, and I nod, a whimper falling from my lips. His answering smile is deliciously wicked. “Good. Because I can’t f**king wait to be inside you.”

No man has ever talked to me like this. I love it. I want more. So much more . . .

Moving up, he leans over me, his chest in my face as he reaches for the bedside table and pulls open the tiny drawer. He withdraws a condom from inside, and I’m momentarily stunned.

Though I shouldn’t be. Everyone knows how Archer operates.

Pushing the worry from my head, I lean up on my elbows and press my mouth to the center of his chest. His scent surrounds me, the warmth of his skin, his salty taste. I’m licking a path down to his abs and he pulls away from me, hissing as if I’ve burned him.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, tearing open the wrapper and rolling on the condom. The sight of him entrances me and my heart rate accelerates, my mouth going dry when he catches me staring. He shakes his head with a slight smile curving his perfect, swollen lips. “I want to take my time but I doubt I’ll make it, Ivy. I want you too damn much.”

Again, he stuns me, this time with his words. If I think about it too hard, the entire situation is mind blowing. I’m nak*d with Archer Bancroft. We’re about to have sex. If someone told me a month ago—heck, a few hours ago—that I would end this night hav**g s*x with Archer, I would’ve laughed in their face.

I’m not laughing now, though. More like I’m grabbing for Archer, bringing him down on top of me, his big body pushing me into the mattress. I wrap my legs around his hips, curl my arms around him so I can stroke down his smooth, damp-with-sweat back as our mouths find each other, lazily kissing, nipping at each other’s lips, tangling our tongues.

He tastes amazing. I love the sounds he makes, the way he holds me. And when he slowly slides inside my body, inch by excruciating inch, a shudder sweeps over me, my eyes shutting against the intensity of emotions swirling within. He doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as breathe, and I’m breathless too. I’ve never felt so connected to another person before.

It’s frightening. Exhilarating.

“Christ, you feel so good,” he whispers close to my ear as he slowly begins to move. I shift with him, lifting my hips, tightening my legs around him. He’s thrusting faster, almost as if he can’t help himself, and I’m fine with it. More than fine with it. I rock against him, sending his c*ck deeper inside my body, and he’s groaning, straining above me, already close. I can see it in the tension in his face, across his shoulders.

He warned me it would be fast but I don’t care. I’m close too. I’ve been on edge since he made me come on the terrace. There’d been no relief with that orgasm. More like it ratcheted me up, helping me realize what I was missing, not being with him like this.

“Say you’re going to come,” he whispers, his ragged voice sending a shiver over my skin. “Say it.” He reaches between us, his fingers slipping over my clit, rubbing circles around it, driving me straight out of my mind.

“Yes,” I moan. “So close.”

Archer rears up on his knees and grasps hold of my waist, pulling me closer as he pounds into me. I watch, breathless at the brutal way he’s handling me, truly f**king me, and I wonder if any man I’ve ever been with has done this. Fucked me like Archer is at this very moment.

That would be a firm no.

The men of my past always handled me gently, as if I were made of glass and might shatter at any moment. Not Archer. He’s all macho, primal fierceness, his hands gripping me, his c*ck pounding inside of me, his mouth brutalizing mine. It’s as if he’s completely overcome.

I love it.

Closing my eyes, the familiar sensations threaten to wash over me, and I try to hold them off. Whimpering, I shake my head, pant his name and then I can’t hold back any longer.

I’m coming. Lost in the deliciously warm pulsating sensation as the second orgasm of the night takes me completely over the edge.

He collapses on top of me seconds later, his warm weight comforting, yet making it all feel far too real. His mouth presses to my neck, wet and hot as he whispers unintelligible words. I smooth my fingers down his back, feel the shivers still trembling through him, and I kiss his cheek, murmuring, “You should probably go soon.” I wince the moment the words leave my mouth. I really don’t want him to leave.

But he needs to. If he lingers . . . I might want him to stick around. Then I might do something stupid. Like admit how much I care for him, how much I wish he were a permanent part of my life.

Yeah. He’d flip out and run like a scared little boy if I ever said something like that.

Lifting up so he can meet my gaze, he studies me, his brows furrowed, his mouth curved in a frown. “What?”

Uh oh. Did I say the wrong thing? Come on, Archer isn’t one who lingers in a woman’s bed, is he? “You um, you should probably go, don’t you think? I don’t want my brother to see you sneak out of my room.”

“He’s probably asleep. That guy sleeps like the dead.” Archer’s studying me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Yeah, but . . .” He’s right I’m sure. I don’t want to risk the chance. Besides, I need time alone. I need to process what just happened between us.

“So you’re kicking me out.” He sounds incredulous, looks angry.

“No . . .”

“Yes,” he cuts me off, his voice tight. “I get it, though. Don’t want Gage to find out. I agree with you, actually. He’ll hang me by my balls from a tree, and I happen to like my balls, thank you very much.”

He climbs out of bed, snatching his clothes off the floor impatiently, giving me an unintended eyeful of those very balls he happens to like so much.

Crap, I’ve made him mad. I didn’t mean to but I can’t have him lingering. It’s bad enough what we just did. I don’t do one-night stands, especially with guys I know and run the risk of seeing again. Worse, I don’t want to get attached. Or put expectations on us that this sort of thing might happen again.

Because no way should it happen again. That would be a big mistake. Huge. No more fooling around for Archer and me.

Even though I want to. I hate that I’m pushing him away. His reaction is confusing. He acts like he’s hurt by my denial.

I’m hurt too. More than I would ever dare admit. Deep down inside, I think . . . I want more. For once, I’m ready to take that risk and go for it. Do something so completely out of character just to see what would happen.

“You still want to see Hush later today?” he asks, his voice quiet, his back to me. He has on his underwear, nothing else, and I let my gaze wander over him, drinking in all that pure masculine beauty.

He is beautiful. I wish we had more time. I’d explore every inch of his skin with my mouth, given the chance.

Your chances with Archer just expired.

“Yes,” I answer after I clear my throat. “I would love to see Hush.” We can handle a mistaken sexual encounter between friends, right? Of course we can . . .

“Great. Well, it’s been real,” he says after he slips on his pants, still sounding sort of huffy, and I watch him go without saying another word. He quietly shuts the door behind him.

I flop against the pillows and rest my arm over my eyes, groaning out loud. What the heck is wrong with me? I had amazing sex with a man I’ve known almost half my life, and then I push him out like he’s some sort of stranger I secretly banged.

I can’t help it. I start laughing.

My life has turned completely surreal.

Archer

DAMN, COULD I feel any cheaper?

I’m skulking down the hall of my very own home, shirtless and shoeless, my clothes and shoes clutched in my hand, my pants unbuttoned, for the love of God, and ready to fall from my hips. My footsteps are light as I’m literally sprinting across my house. If Gage came out at this very moment, he would take one look at me and know exactly what I’d just done.

His baby sister.

Grimacing, I shake my head and head toward my bedroom suite, which is on the other side of the house. I’m breathing a little easier now that I’m out of the guest wing, but I could still get caught. That I’m even thinking like this makes me feel like an absolute jackass.