Page 162 of My Ruthless Neighbor

I haven’t been with anyone since months prior to him. And I have never been with anyone but him since we started this arrangement.

We never talked about exclusivity.

A new pain twists my insides. I inhale. Then exhale, my lungs burning with difficulty in drawing every breath.

His arms fold around me from behind, pulling me against his hard body. “You’re angry with me.” He whispers, running his nose along the line of my neck.

Goosebumps springs up all over my skin. I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to lie. He’ll know that I’m lying.

When he turns me, I don’t put up a fight and face him. He spears his fingers through my locks, cradling my head. “You’re jealous.” He says softly.

He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by it. In fact, deep satisfaction bleeds into his eyes.

I shake my head. He leans down and brushes his lips with mine. “Yes, you are.”

My eyes fall shut when his mouth skims along my jaw and down my throat. His touch is my weakness. His warm breath against my skin is my undoing.

This man is my damnation. I shouldn’t feel at ease in his arms when I am hurting inside.

I am indeed jealous. It alarms me how affected I am by the mere interaction between Molly and him.

I was so jealous of watching them together that I wanted to throw up. I was burning up. Like someone has doused me in gasoline and has lit the match and didn’t think twice before setting my whole body on fire.

I have to remind myself that what we have is purely physical. Because I am slowly forgetting it. I am so consumed by him that I am feeling emotions I shouldn’t.

The right thing would be to stop right now before I sink deeper into the quicksand.

But I can’t let go of him. I just can’t. I just have to keep my feelings from getting tangled with sex. It shouldn’t be hard. I can do it. I can if I try harder.

Because I really don’t think I can stay away from him. Just thinking about never feeling his warm touch on my skin makes me panicky.

I am not ready to leave him. Not yet.

Digging my hands into his shirt, I pull him up so I can claim his lips. Archer discerns my urgency and kisses me back with abandon.

With a hand at the nape of my neck, he forces my head back. His tongue thrusts past my lips. He pushes my legs open so he could step between my thighs.

He breaks the kiss and looks at me. “I only want you.”

The meaning behind his words shakes me to my core. I love it. I hate it. I don’t know what to feel.

“What you saw down there—” I kiss him, putting a stop to whatever explanation he was about to give me. Because I changed my mind.

I wanted him to explain few moments ago. But not anymore. I am beginning to act like a possessive girlfriend. Which I am not.

Archer and I are nothing more than fuck buddies. And I have to get that fact through my head. And for that I need shut down the voices that are whispering things I don’t want to hear. Like I am in too deep.

I reach for his belt, fumbling with the buckle.

“Wait.” He pulls back. “I think we should talk.”

“I need you.” My voice is a desperate plea. Please don’t stop. I am scared if we do, I might have to face my inner voice. I might have to address the feelings I have for you. And I am not ready for that yet.

Understanding shines on his face and instead of confronting me for my cowardice, he lifts me up and gives me what I want.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Icry out as pleasure radiates through me. Panting, I collapse on Archer. His fingers clamp down on my hips as he slams into me from below, riding me through my orgasm.

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