Bound to Be His (The Archer Family Book 2) (5 page)

He slid back down onto the bed. He should have felt relieved, really. The less calls Shay was on about his fate, the better. Still, he wasn't completely settled.

There was something in Shay's voice that had him on edge, wondering what exactly was going on on the other side of the phone. He'd never heard her like this before. Sure, he'd seen her exasperated, bemused, and every shade of pissed-off in the book, but never... concerned. Never wary.

And by the sound of it, she was more than just a little wary.

"I don't want to talk about this right now." Her voice cracked through the air again, and Matt got up from his bed, determined to leave the room and give her some privacy. Creeping away, he tried to tune out the rest of her speech, but it was difficult not to hear the quavering of her voice as she said, "I guess we'll just have to see what the future holds."

In all, it had been a vague conversation. Besides her mom and someone named Steven, he had basically no facts about their conversation. Still, he felt for her. Knew how hard it was to tackle something you weren't ready to deal with and have people force it on you time and again. If her tone was any indication, that was exactly what was happening.

Sidling to the fridge, Matt grabbed a beer out of the crisper drawer, and when he clicked it closed again, he was greeted by the snap of another door at the end of the hall.

Shay.

He straightened, trying to act casual, and popped the top off his bottle.

"Hey," she said when she rounded the corner into the kitchen. "Fancy finding you here."

"Fancy that."

He sipped the cool, crisp liquid, but barely tasted it. In truth, he wasn't much in the mood for a drink, but it was something to do. Something to distract him.

"Is midnight your prime drinking hour?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"Only on Tuesdays," he offered back. "I made an exception for tonight."

"Good to know." If he didn't know better, he might have thought she smiled.

Skirting past him, she opened the fridge and got her own beer—one of the orange-flavored shandies Logan had picked up for the girls on their way from the airport. She took a slug and then set it on the counter, swirling the bottle in a tiny circle with her hand.

"Ah, a co-conspirator," he said, and then clinked his glass with hers.

"Unfortunately. Sometimes you just need one." She rolled her eyes and then took another healthy gulp.

"Any reason in particular?" he asked.

He shouldn't have. He knew that. It was an invasion, after all. Like baiting a bear in their very own cave. But she looked so distraught and so in need of someone to talk to, he couldn't help himself. He wanted to help.

“My mother is impossible.” She sighed, and her gaze was far away for a long moment until she finally seemed to find his eyes again. “I should really be used to it, but.” She shrugged. “Family.”

“Family.” He clinked his beer to her’s again and sipped, debating whether or not to ask her more. It was, after all, the closest thing to a normal conversation they’d ever had. Why ruin it by reminding her of the fact that she hated him?

Luckily, she saved him from coming up with something to say when she said, “Do you ever wish you could just live a life without consequences the way some people do?”

“And what, like, rob a bank?” He laughed.

“No, I mean just…” She bit her bottom lip. “Some people can do anything they want and nothing bad ever happens to them. They just flit from one thing to the next. If I could do that…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what I’d do.”

“Sure you do. Think about it.”

“I’d…I don’t know. I’d swim naked.” She smiled and sipped her beer.

“I’m not going to stop you from doing that.” It was all he could do not to rake his gaze over her, imagining what she’d look like with droplets of water coating her exposed skin.

“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes. “Fat chance.”

“Stranger things have happened.” He shrugged.

“Oh yeah? What would you do if nothing bad could happen? If there were no consequences?”

He thought about that for a long moment. He’d call up the league and tell them to go fuck themselves for putting him in the minors. He’d buy a big house beside the ocean. He’d…

He glanced at Shay from the corner of his eye, her mouth pouting as she studied him. What would he do if there were no consequences? If Andy and work and nothing else mattered?

“Let me show you.” He closed the space between them quickly, taking her bottom lip between his and kissing her.

He expected her to put a hand between them, for her to push him away, and though she tensed at first there was no denying that she was giving in to the kiss. Her mouth relaxed and she let him in, welcoming him with her tongue.

He met hers, pushing inside her mouth and tasting the sweet tang of orange and beer on her breath. With one hand, he threaded his fingers through her locks and she pressed her breasts against his chest, willing him further, letting him push his luck to the limit.

It was like a magnetic pulse held them there, playing off of each other back and forth and leaving nothing but the insistent need for more. He wanted to pull back, to trail his kisses down her neck and lower. To grip the hem of her shirt and—

S
hay stepped back
, her hand to her mouth, and for a moment, he thought she was going to turn on her heel and hightail it back to her room.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. After all, what was there to say? He damn sure wasn't going to apologize. That kiss, whatever had just happened between them... he couldn't think of anything he'd ever felt less sorry about.

Her mouth was just as warm and full as he'd thought it would be, but it wasn't just the way she kissed him. No, it was the tingle that spread through him like a warm, steady fire from the second he touched her skin.

He could feel her in his blood, racing through his veins and pumping through his heart, and God only knew what he might have done if she hadn't stepped back and broken the kiss.

"Electric shock," she murmured, but it was so low he could hardly hear.

"What?"

"Electric... I think you shocked me. When, um." She didn't finish. She didn't need to. The flush spreading over the apples of her cheeks, the sudden darkness in her eyes, told him all he needed to know.

She'd liked it.

And based on the way her gaze kept flicking to his lips?

She wanted to go for a second try.

"I don't think it was electric shock. I think you're confused by my pure masculine charm." He grinned and took another step toward her.

She didn't back away.

She did, however, roll her eyes. "I'm sure that's what it was."

"You want to double check?" He stooped down just enough to hear the second when her breath caught.

Then his lips were on hers again, soft and warm and... willing? He placed his hands on her hips, testing the limits, but instead of backing away, she arched into him, practically rubbing herself against the hard outline of his now-straining cock.

This was the right Shay, wasn't it? The Shay who slapped his hand away from the radio? The Shay who rolled her eyes at nearly every breath he took?

He wanted to pull back and check, but he'd be damned if he was going to take this moment for granted. Because if this really was Shay Meyers?

Well, he knew exactly what he was going to do with her.

Keeping one arm encircled around her waist, he pushed her up onto the countertop, and she gasped beneath his lips. When he lifted her, his wrist let out a little pang, but he didn't give a shit. It was like a flea bite compared to the coursing, overpowering desire that was pouring in harder and faster with every second he spent with his mouth on hers.

He tangled one hand in her sleek black hair. It was just as smooth as he'd imagined. Like strands of silk pooling in his palm. He tugged the strands gently, and she nibbled at his bottom lip, seemingly in invitation.

He tugged again, a little harder this time, and she let out a hum of pleasure so low and tantalizing that it was all he could do not to fuck her right there and then. He was having a hard enough time containing himself as it was, because with every passing moment, his mind was inventing new ways to pleasure her. New ways to make her moan longer and louder. New ways to make her say his name while she—

"Fuck," he groaned, his cock pressing so tightly to his zipper that he could hardly focus on anything else.

With another pang of his wrist, he lifted her from the counter, tossed her over his shoulder, and sprinted to his bedroom as quickly as he could, kicking the door open with no small dose of force.

"You're so fucking sexy," he said, and then laid her on the bed as gently as he could.

She still bounced when her body met the springs, and her breasts moved with every bounce, enhancing the already incredible view of her cleavage.

Fuck me.

She was staring up at him, her mouth red and swollen from the intensity of his kiss. Another rush of blood surged to his cock when he thought of exactly how red and pouty her lips might get if she took him into her mouth. He could twine his fingers between those strands of soft hair and guide her up and down, up and down...

He slammed the door shut, never taking his eyes from Shay's greedy, desperate expression.

How many times had he secretly imagined her like this?

Never, he supposed. Because in his fantasies, she was always splayed out so he could see every inch of her perfect body, and she was never, ever wearing anything at all.

"What are we—?" she asked, and his heart panged. The hunger in her eyes was dulling, and he knew if he didn't act now—and fast—she'd be gone. She'd think better of it.

He just had to make sure she didn't.

He pulled his shirt over his head, and her jaw ticked before she swallowed hard. "Wow," she said, and he looked down at himself quickly before crossing the room to join her in the bed.

"It's only fair that we match, don't you think?" he asked, and then, placing himself between the slight part of her supple thighs, he slid his hand over her stomach and pulled up until she lifted her arms and he had a full view of her creamy flat stomach and her emerald lace bra.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you wore that for me. I can't wait to find out if your panties match." He flicked his wrist, and then she was laid bare to him, the bra falling to the floor alongside her shirt.

God, she was gorgeous. It was impossible to decide whether to stare at her stunning, dark eyes or the full swell of her breasts. The tight peaks of her pink nipples.

He took one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the little circle before flicking it over the tip over and over again. She arched beneath his touch, inviting him again, and he grabbed a lock of her hair and tugged until—

"Matt, God." It was breathy and needy and everything a woman's voice should be, and in that moment, he knew he'd never wanted anyone more than he wanted Shay Meyers.

Still, he couldn't give in. There was beyond enough reason to think that, given her way, Shay was going to change her mind. Hell, for all he knew, she might alter her choice in the next five seconds. But if she didn't? He wanted to get to know as much of her body as he could. To explore her. To taste her.

To fulfill her.

He released her nipple with a little pop, and she groaned again before he raked his nails under the curve of her breast.

When she shivered, it was like winning the goddamn World Series.

He sucked the other nipple harder and then backed away, blowing hot air and then cool air until her shivering become writhing, and her writhing became something like bucking. She gripped his shoulders, trying to pull her to his mouth again, but he wouldn't allow it. Not until he was done.

"I need, I need," she moaned, but that was as far as she could manage. He smiled and then ran his nails down either side of her ribs as she shook again and spread her knees wider for him. When she did, he finally had his answer—the panties were the exact same shade of scarlet. Sexy as hell.

"I know what you need," he said at last, and then he slid her skirt and panties down in one move until she was just as he'd imagined her. Except she was so much better. Her breasts were fuller, her stomach was flatter, and her pussy...

"Fuck," he murmured.

It was the most beautiful pussy he'd ever seen, pink and shining with her need. Her clit was swollen and ready for him. All he had to do was duck his head, and she'd be there, all his.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and when he looked up at her face, all he could do was dive for her mouth and grind his hard cock against her slick center.

"Ah, ah," she murmured while he moved. "Please."

He dropped between her legs and licked the space there so greedily that he had to hold her thighs in place to keep her from bucking against his mouth.

"Matt, Matt, God," she moaned, and with every moan, he swirled his tongue around her clit, rewarding her.

He pushed two fingers inside her pussy and closed his eyes to keep himself from exploding. Not only did she have the most gorgeous pussy he'd ever seen, but she was so tight that he could hardly move. God, what would his cock feel like inside her as she ached and quaked around him? Another rush of need shot through him at the thought alone.

"I want you to fuck me. I need you to," she said, and her voice shook with every word.

"I'll fuck you when I want to fuck you. Until then." He trailed his tongue from her clit all the way down to her opening. "You'll have to be patient."

She reached for his shoulder and pulled. "I don't want to be patient. I want you. I want to."

He grabbed each of her wrists and pinned them to her side, and he fucked her with his mouth, harder and faster. "You're going to be patient," he said again, and this time he was met with no protest.

He couldn't control her forever, though. In fact, he was having a hard enough time controlling himself, so after another moment of writhing and squirming, he pulled back, unzipped his pants, and pulled them down alongside his boxers. When he did, she gasped.

"You..." she said, but that was the whole of it. She stared transfixed to the place where his cock jutted out, hard and swollen and waiting for her.

"I want to fuck you now. Spread your legs for me," he rasped, and she lay back obediently, waiting for him. He crawled between her legs and then grabbed each of her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand.

"Are you ready for me, baby?" he asked.

She nodded.

That was all he needed.

Gripping himself with his free hand, he pushed inside of her inch by inch and let out a slow, steady groan of, "
Fuuuuuuuck
."

If he'd thought he was hard before, it was nothing compared to the pounding, insistent need he felt as soon as he buried himself to the hilt.

Then? He was lost.

W
hen Shay woke
up the next morning, her heart plunged into her stomach and she tossed in bed, hoping to find an empty space beside her. That maybe, just maybe, it had all been a dream and she hadn't really spent the evening moaning in Matt Archer's embrace.

His strong, warm embrace...

She shook her head, blinked her eyes open, and stared at the exact empty space she'd hoped to see. She blinked again.

There was a tiny note on the pillow beside her, and she picked it up cautiously before scanning the sloppily penned words.

Shay—

Thought it might not be a good idea to come out of the same bedroom in the morning. Hope you understand.

Matt

She leaned back against the pillows and crumpled the note in her fist.

Okay, there was no way of changing the past. Even if she didn't understand the lunacy of why the hell she'd given in. Why the hell she'd melted under his touch like she'd never been with a man before. Like he was water and she had been dying of thirst.

The image of his sculpted, naked chest drifted through her mind, and she caught herself smiling.

Shit. No. This was Matt Archer. He was a client. Andy's brother. Her sworn nemesis.

She needed to get back to that. Needed to focus on their professional relationship. She needed to... needed to...

She needed to get the hell out of her own head was what she needed.

Quickly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and jumped to her feet. After dressing in yoga shorts and a tank top, she slipped quietly from the room and then out the sliding door off the living room, out onto the beach.

She'd go for a run, let the cool ocean air fill her lungs, and clear her head. That was just the ticket.

Humming "Eye of the Tiger" to herself, she started jogging along the coast, letting the water lap at her naked feet. She closed her eyes, let herself focus on the grit of the sand between her toes, the arch of her feet, as her weight swung from one leg to the other.

She'd tell Matt that last night couldn't happen again. It was a one off. There was no use analyzing it or trying to figure out why it had happened. The simple fact was that it wouldn't happen again, and that would have to be good enough for her.

Better than good enough.

"Hey." A deep voice rumbled beside her, and her heart flipped over in her chest.

"Holy shit." She gasped.

"Sorry to interrupt your training montage." Matt sprinted right alongside her, matching her beat for beat. He looked just as he had last night, with his trunk-like forearms bulging at his sides, his angular jaw fixed as he half-smiled at her.

She took a deep breath. "You surprised me, that's all."

"Well, I'm not shocked. Who runs around a place like this with their eyes closed?" He gestured toward the ocean and then to the rows of pretty flowering trees and thatched umbrellas. "You must be crazy."

"Call it temporary insanity." She hedged for a moment, and then went on. "Speaking of which, I think we need to clear some things up."

"Oh?" Matt raised his eyebrows but didn't have the decency to look concerned.

"Yeah. Last night. It was a mistake."

"Was it?" His nonchalance, rather than calming her, made her heart beat faster. Maybe he wasn't hearing her right.

"Yeah. Look, as far as I'm concerned, it never happened."

"That's fine." He shrugged.

She frowned. "That's it?"

It was a childish reaction, she knew that. It wasn't like she needed him to beg for her to change her mind or anything. But it might have been nice if he cared. At all.

"Yeah, I mean, just because you decided it didn't happen doesn't mean it won't happen again."

"That's exactly what it means," she shot back.

This time it was his turn to frown. "I'm pretty sure it's not. I mean, you can't resist me."

"I most certainly can."

"You couldn't last night. And, given how hard I made you come, I think it'll be a hell of a lot harder to work with me without all those old memories coming up. Maybe some curiosity, too. I doubt you've ever been with someone better."

"You're a cocky bastard," she said, but he only grinned.

"Only when I know I'm right." He winked.

Winked. Like he was in on some kind of joke.

Her heart pounded in a way that had nothing to do with her run. "Matt—"

"Tell me, have you ever been with anyone better than me?"