Page 39 of Pretty Lies & Ugly Truths

I drop my gaze down to my hands, picking at the skin there, unsure how to answer, how to explain without giving away the depth of my feelings. What we did probably wasn’t a big deal for someone with his experience, but for me, it was huge. To allow someone to touch me that way takes a lot of trust.

It would destroy me to know that he was with someone else tonight, but the not knowing I think would be worse.

“Hey…” he says, hands lightly squeezing the soles of my feet to get my attention. Only when I give it to him does he continue. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“I know you told me you went to work, but I was wondering if you were with… If you went to?—”

He cocks his head, eyes narrowed.

“Are you…trying to ask me if I was with another woman tonight?” he asks in a frosty tone, and all I can do is nod. “Why would you think that?”

My eyes dart around the room, as if searching for anescape, any way to keep from having to answer that question but knowing there’s no way to avoid having this conversation.

“I don’t know really. You were acting sort of strange before you left. You wouldn’t look at me. Then when you said you would be out late, I just assumed that maybe… you were meeting up with someone. Which would be fine if you were. I mean, it’s not like we are together or anything, and I know men have certain needs, so I would understand?—”

“Stop,” he says through clenched teeth, tension radiating off him in waves. I clamp my lips shut, shrinking back into the cushions, both alarmed and confused by the thunderous expression he wears.

“First off, whoever put those words in your head, deserves to be punched in the fucking throat. Far too manyboys,use that as some bullshit excuse to cheat,” he seethes.

“Second,” he continues, face softening, “it’s not fine—Maggie, together or not, I wouldn’t do something like that. I don’t hop from one bed to the next. You are the only woman I have touched in the past six months. So no, I did not go and meet up with someone else, and I am sorry if the way I left upset you. I can assure you, it had more to do with my own fucked up head than anything you did. Okay?”

“Okay.” His words ring with such sincerity, I have no choice but to believe them, and not for the first time, I wonder just what other demons he struggles with. I knowhe feels responsible for the death of his sister, but I feel like maybe it goes deeper than that.

The fixer in me wants to dive deep and get to the root cause of his pain, to discover what wounds lay beneath the surface that need stitching up. This man calls himself a monster, but from what I have seen, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Archer has been nothing but selfless and brave, caring and kind. Yes, at times, he can come off as cold or unfeeling, but I’m pretty sure that’s just a mask he wears to hide himself from the world.

“So—what are we reading?” His deep, husky voice pulls me out of my musings, and I look up, confused. He points to my e-reader face down on the floor.

Oh shit!I move to snatch it up, but he is faster and beats me to it.

“That good, huh?” he chuckles as he swipes up to unlock it.

My face pales when I remember what I was reading right before I feel asleep. It was a monster romance where the female main character is forced to marry a creature with horns and a skull for a face and a very long tongue that he does very wicked things with.

Archer’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he skims over the words, and my heartbeat hammers in my ears as I cover my flaming face with my hands. He makes a noise low in his throat, and I peek out through my fingers, expecting to see a horrified look on his face. I’m surprised, when instead, I meet dark, hooded eyes that are laced with an obvious desire.

My hands fall from my face to my lap, and a shiver of anticipation rolls down my spine at his hungry gaze.

“This is what you like?” he asks. “Is this what gets you off late at night when you lay in your bed alone? Tell me, Little Rose… Do you get hot and bothered when you read your filthy little books? Do you touch yourself?” His voice comes out deep and raspy, causing my nipples to tighten and a throbbing to start in my core.

“Answer me. Do you get so worked up while you’re reading that you touch your pretty little pussy and make yourself come?” I nod, biting down on my lip to stifle a whimper as my eyes flutter closed.

“Show me,” he commands.

My eyes pop open meeting his lust filled gaze, and something about seeing him so affected makes me feel brazen.

Slipping my hand under the covers, I slowly run my finger down my center and watch as his hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. A moan slips past my lips as I circle my clit, and pleasure licks up my spine.

“Take off your pants,” he orders, and I lift up, kicking off my yoga pants, the blanket falling to the floor with them, leaving me in just my t-shirt and panties.

“Now spread your legs” I bend my knees up. “Wider,” he grunts out. I instantly obey, opening them as wide as I can on the narrow sofa cushion.

“That’s my good girl. Now, keep going.” I slip my fingers under my panties, stroking myself tentatively at first, but soon, I find my rhythm. My other hand trailsacross my stomach and up under my shirt as I pinch and pull at my nipple.

“Faster,” he tells me, and I follow his instructions as I start to circle my clit faster, and faster until my orgasm rips through me, and I come on a cry.

I ride out my orgasm as wave after wave crashes over me.

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