Page 17 of The Cowboy's Off Limits Option

Archer Dean is kissing me. Kissing me like a condemned man savoring his last meal. And I'm so determined not to second guess what's happening, that his confession doesn't register right away.

The last words he said before his lips crashed against mine whirl around in my addled brain, trying to get my attention

I am making out with Archer Dean. In his kitchen pantry. Surrounded by shelves filled with boxed mac and cheese, instant rice, cans of soup-- I think I just kicked a case of sports drinks.

And he loves me.

I deepen our kiss; pushing the heavy box of bottled drinks by my foot out of the way so that I can get closer to him for better access.

My hands aren't shy. It's like I've fantasized about touching him so many times that I feel like I've done it a million times already. God knows I've seen him without his shirt onenough times to have every bulge and plane of his hard muscles committed to memory.

The dip between deltoid and bicep, the thick lats across his back, the ticklish space where his waist narrows; my fingers run over all of them greedily now before trailing back down that decadent V where his stomach is flat below the ridges of abs before it plunges low and drops into his pants.

Except now, I know my imagination didn't do justice to the parts of him I've never seen before.

Archer's cock is big. It's impossibly hard, and I'm fascinated by how soft the skin stretched tightly over it is. My thumb runs over the head, swiping through a bead of moisture leaking from the tip. When I do that, Archer's mouth leaves mine and he groans.

"Wait." My brain finally forms a coherent thought. I don't let go of Archer's cock, but I look up to meet a tortured gaze. His breath is ragged, his hands stilling suddenly in place where they'd been so close to reaching my desperate nipples just before I spoke.

"You're in love withme?"

The corners of Archer's mouth twitch and give in to a shy smile.

"You, Cal." He confirms. "Have been since you got back from school."

Tipping my face up to his, I silently beg for new kisses.

"You'rein lovewith me?" I clarify when he lets me breathe again.

"Obsessed," he confesses. "Can't stop thinking about you..." He whispers near my ear, nipping at the shell and sucking on the lobe before kissing down the side of my throat. "I've spent the last two years imagining this--" the tip of his tongue drags lightly over my collar bone, pushing the neck of the t-shirt aside so he can put his mouth to my bare skin. "-- if this would make youmoan--" he sucks against the base of my throat and I don't even care if it leaves a mark.

It's not a moan that escapes me, more like a squeak.

Archer's lips smile against my skin when he gets my reaction.

"Or if this would make you giggle."

His fingers slide along the bottom of my rib cage, his thumbs upward so they graze the underside of my breasts.

Definitely not a giggle. More like a strangled, needy sound at the tease. I want him to touch me. I want those callused hands on the tender skin of my breasts. I want his fingers rolling over my hard nipples. I want his mouth on them, dammit.

"Stop teasing me," I scold him hoarsely and tighten my grip on his cock in a threatening squeeze.

"Fuck, Cal," he grits out roughly. "You're one to talk."

"You didn't answer me."

I tighten my hand around him again, this time, pulling slightly and letting my fist run up the length of him. Not to tease him, exactly, but because I'm fascinated by his reaction.

Archer's head lifts and he inhales sharply.

"We need to get out here, before I fuck you up against the ramen."

How does he have this body with a pantry full of carbs? It's not fair.

Reluctantly, I step backwards and allow him to untangle himself from the shelves of dry goods and boxes on the floor.

Once we're out of the confined space of the pantry, he catches me off guard when he lifts me onto the counter of the island quickly.

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