Page 44 of Pucking Curves

It’s like my body is his to command, obeying him on instinct. I arch my hips, his name breaking from my lips as I shatter, soaking our joined hands.

He keeps our hands moving, keeps me rocking against him until I’m trembling, so sensitive every move pulls a whimper from my lips.

I melt against him, letting him hold me up as he pulls our hands from my panties, bringing them to his mouth. A whole new inferno blazes to life when he pulls my fingers into his mouth, sucking my juices from them. He licks my taste from his fingers, too.

“Fucking perfect,” he growls then, claiming my lips in a deep kiss.

I just hum against his lips, so damn in love with him it’s a little bit terrifying…and not nearly terrifying enough. I want more. Hell, I want everything. Every. Damn. Thing.

“I love you, Archer,” I whisper, unable to keep the truth to myself any longer. He deserves to hear it. He deserves to know…no matter what happens with Micah, I’m all in.

He pulls back to look at me, emotion brimming in his eyes. “Say that again.”

“I love you.”

He wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my throat. A shudder rips through him before I feel his lips against my pulse point. “I love you too, little bird. Always have.”

Chapter Eleven

Archer

“Stoplookingatmelike that, Wren,” I say, chuckling as I kneel at her feet to double check the laces of her skates. “It’s not going to get you out of this.”

“Darn it,” she mumbles under her breath.

I just shake my head, fighting a smile. She’s been trying to talk me out of the rink and into bed since halfway through lunch. But she isn’t afraid of the ice anymore. At least, not entirely. I doubt she’ll willingly step out onto a frozen pond ever again, but that’s all right. She doesn’t need to do that. I just want her comfortable around the arena. I don’t want her feeling like she isn’t safe. And, when I finally manage to get her pregnant, I want her to know that our kids will be safe too.

“This isn’t going to end well,” she says like she’s foretelling certain disaster. She’s clumsy as fuck, so she may be. But I’m undeterred as I rise to my feet and hold out my hand, helping her to her feet.

She wobbles, clinging to me before she finally finds her footing. Mostly. Every few seconds, she sways to the side.

“Micah never tried to teach you again after your accident?”

She eyes me like I’ve lost it. “Are you kidding? He spent the first couple of years panicking if I went anywhere near ice. I’ve always been a swimmer, but he freaked about water, too.” Her nose scrunches. “I guess I never really asked him after that. It stressed him out too much.”

I’m not surprised. And I guess I can’t really hold that against him. Just knowing she almost died back then feels like a weight on my chest. I can’t even imagine how much worse it was for Micah and her parents, who had to see the aftermath of that firsthand.

“Do you know the basics?”

“You mean put one foot in front of the other and pray I don’t fall?” she retorts, sarcasm heavy in her voice. “Yep.”

“No, smartass.” I shake my head at her. “Do you know how to find your center of balance? How to walk in skates?”

“I mean…the balance thing is basically the whole problem, Archer,” she huffs at me. “I’m not very graceful on flat feet, let alone on a tiny blade that a madman designed.”

I take a step away from her and then another. She throws her arms out like she’s trying to steady herself.

“Keep them slightly in front of you, Wren. Like this.” I demonstrate what I mean and then watch carefully while she mimics me. “Good girl. See how much steadier that feels?”

“Uh, no?”

I choose to ignore her because I can see the difference even if she doesn’t have the confidence yet. “Walk to me.”

She shuffles forward a step, dragging the blade along the carpet-covered cement.

“Pick your feet up, baby. Walk like you’re marching.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” she retorts, and I narrow my eyes on her. That only makes her grin. But she takes a tentative step, lifting her feet this time.

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