Page 25 of Single Mom's Christmas Wish

We delve into a residential area with a cluster of brownstones with inner courtyards and plenty of green spaces. It’s a rare sight in this city but a fair one to behold. It’s quiet and fairly dark. But the slew of cars parked along the sidewalk speaks of money and prestige. Only the big dogs, the successful entrepreneurs, live here, and Archer is one of them. I’d almost forgotten about the socioeconomic difference between us, probably because we met at the community center, a neutral place.

“A penthouse,” I say, unable to look away from his hand on my knee.

Oh, how badly I want it to move higher up.

“We each have a place of our own that we go to when we want privacy,” Archer explains. “It’s why my brothers and I have such a good and peaceful living arrangement. We spend most of our time together. We work in the same offices, and we hang out in the same bars and restaurants. Our circle of friends is more or less the same. And we share a home, as well, which is where Trevor lives. But once in a while, each of us feels the need to disconnect.”

“I thought you did everything together,” I mumble.

“You mean women, too, right?” he chuckles softly, and I reply with a faint nod as he pulls up outside one of the brownstones. “Yeah. But it’s different with you.”

“Why? I thought it was what you wanted. You made it crystal clear at Dante’s.”

“It is what we want. But I’d like to ease you into it. I would like to spend this night with you first, Dakota. Your needs, your wants… they are what matter the most, and I can tell you’re not used to being with men like us.”

“I get it; you’re the slow-burn type,” I chuckle.

“Maybe. But when I do burn, it’s game over for you.”

He gives me one last lingering look before he gets out of the car, then comes around to open the door for me. Like a veritable gentleman, Archer makes sure I am safe and well taken care of every step of the way until we reach his place at the very top of the brownstone.

We’re quiet on the elevator ride up. Heated anticipation lingers in the air. We both know where this is headed. We just need to get behind closed doors first. My heart is racing. My head feels lighter with each floor we pass. It’s getting harder to breathe.

I’ve never felt this way before, not at this level of intensity, not without giving it a second thought. Yet there is something about the Faulkner brothers, something so powerful and primal that it has taken hold of my body and mind. I fear I’ll become putty in their hands, that I’ll like it a little too much for my own emotional safety.

With calm and controlled movements, Archer unlocks the door to his apartment, and we casually step inside. It’s as if I’m stepping into a dark corner of pleasure and masculinity. This isn’t just a penthouse; it’s a haven for this man. It’s his safe space, his quiet place.

“I’ve got some wine in the fridge,” he says, taking his shoes off in the foyer.

I do the same and give him a slight nod. “A glass would be appreciated.”

“I need you naked first.”

“Wait, what?”

Archer smiles and comes closer, then slowly reaches up and loosens the first button on my shirt. “I need you naked first in my bedroom. It’s at the end of the hallway, the door on the left.”

“You’re serious.”

“Dakota, here’s a quick lesson on who I am,” he replies, his fingers traveling up my chest and tracing my collarbone. His touch is enough to ignite a devastating fire within me. “When Isay I want something, something we both know you also want with equal intensity, I expect you to obey.”

“Obey?”

“Aren’t you tired of always being in charge? Why not let me take the reins for once?”

I stare at him, but it’s not because his request is preposterous; it’s because the mere concept of letting myself go completely makes my spine tingle in an unfamiliar but insanely pleasant manner.

“Okay,” I manage.

“Now, go into the bedroom. Undress for me. And I will join you in a minute with the wine.”

“Okay,” I say again.

He exhales sharply and captures my chin between his thumb and index finger. “I need the proper answer,” he says with a low growl.

“Oh?”

“How do you respond when your man gives you an order?”

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