Page 63 of My Darling Mayhem

Something had happened between us tonight, and while she might not be aware of it, I was in a monumental way. Part of me wanted to get on my bike and run away, let the night air carry me somewhere. But another part of me, a stronger part, wanted to hold her all night and wake up with her in my arms.

“Okay, but I’ll need to leave early because I don’t think Kane should see me here when he wakes up.”

Wren shook her head. “Definitely not, Cruz either. I think it would confuse them.”

“Okay, I’ll stay.” I kissed her forehead while she adjusted, so my shirt fell back around her thighs. I slid out of bed and walked into her attached bathroom, not flipping on the light. Grabbing a hand towel from one of her shelves, I returned to Wren, swiping up the mess from her stomach. Her sleepy smile and a gentle squeeze of my wrist tightened my chest. That feeling returned tenfold.

I was in love with her.

“Do you want this back?” she asked, gesturing at the shirt I’d told her to wear, her lashes fluttering, her big amber eyes dreamy and tired.

I gave her the most genuine smile I’d ever felt as I said, “Never.”

FIFTEEN

WREN

My face wasagainst something warm and firm, while something equally strong seemed to wrap around my back, securing me. I opened one eye and saw my bedroom was still gray and mostly dark, but I could make out Archer’s peaceful face as he slept.

His chest rose and fell under my cheek, and I had to resist the urge to trace the bridge of his nose and down along his jaw…over his lips. The same lips that tasted me last night.

The memory returned in a rush, like liquid heat activating in my veins, burning all throughout my body. I chose not to focus on the way his hands held my thighs against his face or how he expertly licked and sucked my nipples while I rode him into orgasmic oblivion.

No, I was focused on the gentle way he’d braided my hair and seemed to pick up on the fact that talking about my brother affected me. Archer was more considerate and far more careful with me than I’d ever been handled by a man. Yet, when his hands cradled my thighs or his mouth tasted me, he wasn’t gentle at all, and the contrast between the two actions was something new that I never knew I’d crave at some point.

My thoughts faded and tangled, and I came to a rushing halt when I heard the little giggles of two five-year-old boys near my bedroom door.

Oh shit.

I tried to sit up, but Archer’s arms were like steel around me.

“Archer!” I whispered, and I instantly felt his hips press forward, his morning erection pushing against my stomach. I had to bite down on my lip and ignore it because I wanted nothing more than a repeat of last night…and, honestly, more. I really wanted to have sex with him, but I wouldn’t push it since he had made such a stark stance against it.

“Mmmm.” He buried his face into my hair while sliding his hand down to my ass and gripping my left cheek hard. It felt so good that I let out a breathy gasp while trying to detangle our bodies. Archer’s hips continued to press into me while he held me, and suddenly his lips were tracing my collarbone and up my neck.

“Archer, wake up. The boys are up.” I slammed my eyes closed, trying again, desperate now because if he started touching me, I would begin to shamelessly ride him. But having the boys not see him here was important to him. Doing this, whatever we were doing, and establishing it the right way, seemed paramount, and I didn’t want to do anything to ruin that.

The man under me seemed to freeze when another, much louder lilt of laughter echoed outside the room.

“Is your door locked?” Archer’s husky voice was close to my ear, and I loved how gritty it sounded. I’d love to feel that skate against my thighs on another morning just like this, but with an actual plan in place to ensure no one was able to sneak in and see us.

“No. I always unlock it before I sleep because I worry about Cruz. Last night, I nearly forgot, but sometime in the night, I slipped out of bed and flipped the lock when I remembered.”

“Well, shit. Will he come in here?”

“I doubt it because Kane is here, but if he’s hungry…”

Archer started to move, sliding out of the bed and dropping to the floor on silent hands and feet. I withheld a laugh while I watched him tiptoe over to my door and quickly flip the lock. Then he dipped to grab his jeans but seemed to pause near my standing mirror.

With gentle hands, he plucked my postcard out and inspected it.

“Why do you keep this here instead of on your fridge?”

My heart seemed to leap into my throat as I watched him hold one of my silly, meaningless dreams in his hands, so easy and carefree, as if he were curious why it was bound to the mirror instead of tethered to my heart.

“My father was a horrible man, and I have very little love or care for the fact that he passed…but back when I was a kid, when I used to look up to him and miss him, I had always wished he’d think of me on his trips. Yet, each time he returned, he’d merely pat my head or give me a quick kiss, but there was never any indication that he’d cared or even missed me. Until this one time, this one, long trip.”

“He’d been gone for weeks, and when he’d returned, he handed me this postcard, while telling me a story. He talked about how he visited this place, and while he walked along the sand and looked up at billowing white curtains in one of the villas, it was like he saw me there. He told me how he’d pictured this beautiful life for me, full of sunshine, warmth and fairy tales. He spoke of regret, how he’d wished he’d been a better father to me, how I was everything he’d ever hoped for when he was young and imagined being a dad. He said I was specialto him, not just a jewel in his crown, but I was the crown. For whatever reason, he said that town, that place he went, made him reflect on all that. He told me to always remember I deserved the unrealistic, outrageous sort of life, where I’m loved and cherished.”

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