Page 77 of The Archer and his Rosebud

Archer doesn’t move, his blue gaze pinned to mine. His hand flexes at my back.

“Yes.” I clear my throat and Archer bends closer. “Yes, I’ll stay. I’m not ready to walk away from you.” I may never be ready.

Ten! Nine!The countdown begins.

“You’re staying?”

Seven! Six!

I nod. “I decided last week.”

Four! Three!

Archer grins wide.

Two! One! Happy New Year!Confetti rains down.

“Happy New Year, Arrow.” I clink his glass and tip my flute back for a long swig of the dry champagne.

“Happy New Year, Rosebud.” He takes a sip, then moves his hand between my shoulder blades, pressing me closer. “C’mere.”

Wrapping my hand around his neck, our mouths forge, frantic at first, then softer, languid. I nearly drop my champagne in an effort to keep him close.

“Wait.” I shimmy back, then down my last sip. Laughing, Archer does the same before passing our empty flutes to a server standing nearby.

“So,” Archer grabs my hand and swings me around before dipping me low, “I have a surprise.”

I cling to his arms for balance as my right leg lifts into the air. “Yeah?”

He replaces me upright. “We can go home if you’d rather—”

My frown is instant. “Oh, I don’t want to leave yet. Though, I guess since you’re driving Nova home—”

“No. We don’t have to leave yet.” Archer brings me close, our bodies aligning. “Or at all.”

I blink up at him and his face softens.

“We have a room here tonight, Will. Sixth floor, jacuzzi tub, we’re already checked in. Nova is staying the night at the house.”

“We can stay here tonight?”

“If you want.” He squeezes my hip. “No pressure. I just hated the idea of being on the road this late, and I thought being away from the kids…”

Backing out of his arms, I start walking. “Sixth floor, you say?”

With a shout of laughter, Archer rushes to grab my dress coat and purse from the back of my chair as I head for the lobby.

When the elevatordoors part on the sixth floor, Archer steps in front of the sliding doors and produces a key from his interior suit pocket. “Six eleven.”

I run my palms over my hips and thighs, smoothing my dress as I walk toward our room, the heat of Archer’s gaze burning through my backside as he follows. My pulse thrums beneath my skin. Archer didn’t reserve a room so we wouldn’t have to drive home. Other than the champagne toast at midnight, he’s nursed the same beer over the last hour. He would be fine behind the wheel. No, this room—I stop in front of 611—is for something else entirely. Archer’s arm brushes my side as he touches the keycard to the pad and a green light appears.

Taking the handle, I push the door open, then stop when Archer’s arm wraps around my waist and pulls my back against his chest. His mouth settles on my bare shoulder.

“Willa, we can make tonight whatever you want. If you’re not ready—”

I twist, my backside keeping the door open while my fingers clutch his jacket lapels. “I want you, Arch.” I tug him closer. “All of you. I want this.Us.”

Swooping down to claim my mouth, Archer shoves the door wide and walks me inside. My coat and purse hit the floor, and the door slams shut, leaving us in relative darkness as our kiss continues. Strawberries and champagne coat his tongue; highly intoxicating. I love his kisses. The way he takes control, the way he tastes every inch of my mouth and sucks on my tongue. We’ve kissed for hours and hours over the past month. More time than I spent kissing Ty during the entirety of our nine months together.

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