I undress and slip back into my black jumper dress. I don’t think Wilbur had been too enamoured with my clothing choice for dinner, but I liked to be comfortable and didn’t see the need to dress up for a family dinner at home. I thank Christian for his time, and he showers me with air kisses and tells me he can’t wait to see a photo of me in the dress.
I head over to the East Wing, ready to throw myself down on my bed and catch up on my latest Netflix binge watch. I swing my temporary bedroom door open and falter when I find Archer lying on my bed, shoes off, with his legs crossed, looking very at home.
“Comfy?” I ask, arching a brow and leaning my hip against the door frame.
He doesn’t answer me he just does a slow scan of my body from head to toe. It feels like he is undressing me with the heat from his eyes. “Close the door.”
Rolling my eyes and acting as if my heart isn’t in fact going at a hundred miles an hour, I close the door behind me and take my time walking over to my bed. His jaw tics in annoyance. I climb onto the bottom of the bed and crawl on all fours towards him, settling myself on his lap, my thighs straddling him.
“Did you enjoy teasing me at dinner earlier?” he asks me as his fingers stroke my thighs in small circles that send shivers down my spine.
“You started it,” I argue.
He leans up, his eyes sparkling with promise, and he lifts my dress up over my hips and up over my body. “Then I better finish it.”