Accidentally on Purpose

by Jill Shalvis

  Was she? She decided to stop talking before she got herself in trouble.

  At her silence, he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips as he continued to drive through the city, still easily navigating the anything but easy to navigate streets of downtown San Francisco.

  “Since we’re in a momentary truce,” he said, breaking their silence. “You’re a knockout tonight.”

  She looked at him but he was concentrating on the road. “Are you trying to soften me up?” she asked.

  “Definitely,” he said. “But it’s also true.”

  She was wearing one of her favorite dresses, now with his suit jacket around her shoulders. This left him in a button-down that along with his trousers fit him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and powerful long legs. His sleeves were rolled up. Tie loose. His hair was slightly mussed and he could clearly care less, which of course only made him all the more drop-dead sexy.

  He made it hard for a girl to not fall head over heels. “You’re not looking too bad yourself,” she grudgingly admitted, telling herself not to read into his statement. Not that her body got the memo because it was humming with hyperawareness.

  They didn’t speak again. The only reason she even knew where they were going was because she’d read the invitation that day in his office. And sure enough, ten minutes later they were in the financial district, parking in the underground parking lot of a beautiful brick and glass building.

  “The restaurant that’s hosting the party is up on the top floor,” he said as he opened his door. He turned back to her, maybe to ask her to stay while he checked to see if they were even welcome, but she slipped out of the truck too quickly for that. “Guarding your body,” she reminded him.

  “Within reason,” he said, mocking her, but then he surprised her by taking her hand.

  Which she allowed only because of their truce. They took the elevator up with another couple who were lip locked for the entire ride. And not just lip locked but hand and leg locked too, really going to town, running their hands over each other like they were searching for ticks. They got off on the floor before the restaurant and she let out the laugh she’d been barely holding on to and met Archer’s gaze. His mouth was curved into a smile but his eyes were dark and heated. She felt an answering heat in the pit of her belly.

  And south.

  Just before the door closed, the couple stumbled back into the elevator, looking sheepish.

  “Sorry,” the woman said. “We missed our floor.”

  Elle bit her lower lip rather than laugh again. She could appreciate that they’d gotten lost in their lust. Appreciate it and maybe even envy it a little. Because that had never happened to her. She couldn’t imagine getting so lost in someone as to lose track of her surroundings. She was just too aware of herself and others.

  Still, she was overheated when the elevator doors opened and Archer put his big warm hand low on her back to guide her off. He glanced at her, letting his gaze linger. “You’re all flushed.” He paused. “Envious?”

  “No.” She added a scoff. “He probably leaves the lid up and snores.”

  He looked like maybe he wanted to say something to that but the hostess asked him how she could help him.

  “I’m here for the Hunt retirement party,” he said.

  She thumbed through her iPad. “I’m sorry but that was cancelled.”

  Archer was hard to rattle but he looked stunned. “Do you know why?”

  “Uh . . .” The hostess swiped around on her screen for another moment. “There’s only one note here—the retiree decided against a big shindig and cancelled. He had a much smaller dinner party a week ago instead.”

  Archer, still as stone, didn’t answer. Elle slipped her hand in his. “Thank you,” she said to the hostess and she tugged Archer aside so the woman could help the next people in line.

  “I’m sorry,” Elle murmured. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “No. I think he cancelled because he didn’t have any family who RSVP’d.” He paused. “Because I’m his only family and I’m an asshole.”

  She shook her head. “No. Archer—”

  He made a rough sound and turned back to the elevator. This time there were no lovebirds and Archer didn’t speak. Neither did she. The energy was completely different. In the truck, he took out his phone and made a call. To his dad, she assumed, listening to the phone ringing.

  And ringing.

  At the beep, Archer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dad,” he said. “I’m sorry. I should have RSVP’d. Hell, I should’ve called, okay? But I’m calling now.” He hesitated and then ended the call and tossed the phone aside.

  He drove her back to the Pacific Pier Building in a heavy wind, a few drops of rain hitting the windshield. He parked on the street and got out to walk her to the pub but she stopped in the courtyard.

  “It’s not all your fault,” she said.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Communicating is a two-way street and—”

  “We’re not talking about this.”

  “But—”

  “Ever, Elle.”

  The storm broke over them with a boom of thunder, and rain began to fall in earnest as she stared at him. For once she didn’t think of her poor shoes. All she thought about was the pain in her chest. “So much for letting me be there for you,” she said. “And all that other stuff last night about no debt, no price between us.”

  He just looked at her, impervious to the rain. To her.

  “So to be clear, it’s only okay if I need you,” she said. “But when the shoe’s on the other foot, you’re not willing to let yourself need help from me, is that it?” She shook her head, all the bottled-up emotions popping free. “God forbid you be vulnerable in any way or show a weakness, right? You probably faked not being able to use those chopsticks with your left hand yesterday, just to throw me off.”

  “Elle,” he said, sounding to-the-bone weary. “Get out of the storm and go get warm—”

  “No.”

  When he sighed, actually sighed, she narrowed her eyes. “You know what, Archer? You go get warm, okay? Go straight to hell for all I care.”

  “I’m already there.”

  “And that’s my fault?” she asked incredulously, having to squint through the rain now.

  “Yes. Shit. No.” He shoved his hands into his hair, making it stand up on end. “I don’t know. You’ve got me all twisted in knots and all sorts of fucked up.” And then on that rare, shockingly revealing statement, he hauled her up against him, spun them into the alley, and kissed the ever loving daylights out of her.

  And him too, if his heavy breathing counted for anything.

  When they finally came up for air, they were both drenched to the core and she’d completely forgotten the fact that she’d decided to keep her mouth off him. The only thing that helped was that he’d forgotten himself too. He had his hands on her ass, holding her tight to him, nudging her hips up close and personal to what felt like a very impressive erection.

  And she wasn’t much better. She was climbing him like a tree and making needy little whimpers that she couldn’t stop to save her life. They weren’t even having sex, their clothes weren’t off, they were standing in a damn alley for God’s sake, but she’d swear they’d both just nearly come from only a kiss.

  “You’re killing me,” he said, his voice as rough as gravel.

  She felt like she was literally going to die if she didn’t get him inside her, but she managed to give him a cool look. “So walk away then, Archer. You’re good at that.”

  But he didn’t move. Instead, he looked down at himself. “I couldn’t walk to save my own life. Hell, in this condition, I couldn’t even get you upstairs to one of our offices.”

  “This isn’t a booty call, remember?”

  He tilted his head, clearly taking in her flushed face, her crazy breathing, and then there was the fact that her nipples were poking against the material of her wet clothes like two heat
-seeking missiles, which he could clearly see because his jacket was slipping off her shoulders. She tightened it around herself.

  He didn’t make a smartass comment. Instead he shocked her when he said, “At the moment, Elle, I’d get down on my knees and beg.”

  This revealing statement knocked her for such a loop that she was still staring at him when Eddie poked his head into the alley. “Hey, dude. Dudette. Listen, far be it for me to interrupt a melding of the minds and all but I’d like to come through here and—” He caught Archer’s expression and backtracked. “Actually, you know what? You two take your time.”

  When he was gone, Elle touched a hand to her mouth and stared at Archer. “That was not on my agenda,” she said. “You’re not on my agenda.”

  His eyes were dark and unfathomable. “Ditto. Tonight was just an overreaction to an emotional evening.”

  She stared at him some more and then stepped back, her heart thundering in disappointment now. She shrugged out of his jacket, thrust it at him, and then turned and left the alley, only to hear Eddie murmur “Don’t take it personally, son. Women are born crazy.”

  Hard to be insulted by the truth, she thought as she strode across the courtyard through the driving rain, not even feeling the chill as her blouse and skirt stuck to her like a second skin. She took the elevator, heading to her office simply because she needed a moment alone. An immediate moment alone. She’d gotten her key in the lock when she felt the air pressure change as someone came up behind her.

  Didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who. “Overreaction to an emotional evening?” she repeated in angry astonishment, not turning to face him. “Seriously?”

  “I was wrong.”

  “Maybe I should get that in writing, you admitting you’re wrong. It’s like seeing a unicorn and I need to capture the moment.”

  A tanned, sinewy arm encircled her, taking over unlocking the door. Then he nudged her inside, flicked on the lights, kicked the door closed, and pushed her up against it. He was big, hard, and drenched.

  “You know what?” she asked, proud of her steady voice in spite of her trembling legs. “I’m going to have to pass on the caveman act—”

  His mouth came down on hers, fusing their lips in a hot, searing kiss that she felt from the tips of her frozen toes to the ends of her wet hair and every single inch in between. Huh. Turned out she’d been wrong too, very wrong to think she could resist this with him.

  Lightning flashed, followed immediately by a boom of thunder. Her office lights flickered once, twice. An electric surge, she thought dizzily, the scent of rain and sexy Archer making her press into him.

  “I want you, Elle,” he said, voice low and rough. “It’s a goddamn ache, I want you so much. Just like this, dripping wet in every way, blind with need.”

  “Yes.” Mindless at this point, she shoved up his wet shirt. He tore it off over his head and then unbuttoned her blouse and spread it open, a low, muttered oath on his lips as the lights flashed out again.

  And stayed out this time.

  In the far back recesses of her mind, she told herself to stop, that she was going to get hurt, but the part of her in control didn’t care. He needed her. And she sure as hell needed him. His fingers wrapped around hers and he gave a tug. She had to hand it to him, he knew her office as well as she did because in the next beat she was free-falling onto her small, narrow love seat, followed down by a hundred and eighty pounds of highly sexually motivated male.

  The love seat, built for show rather than actual use, complained with a splintering crack and then collapsed beneath them.

  They hit the floor. She saw a brief flash of Archer’s white teeth as he smiled his badass smile in the dark and then rolled, pinning her beneath him, her hands caught in his above her head.

  “Your arm,” she gasped.

  “Worth the pain.” His kiss was hot and deep and she almost lost herself in him.

  Almost.

  She fought the dregs of passion because no way was she going to be passive, not when for the first time in far too long she felt . . . alive, from the tips of her hair to her toes, which were already curling. Yanking her hands from his grasp, she placed them on his chest, unable to see much of anything but needing to touch, slowly sliding them up and around his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips. “More,” she demanded and skimmed a hand down his bare, sleek back and into his trousers. When she then slid that hand around to his front and brushed against a very hard erection threatening his zipper, he growled her name low in his throat, sounding gratifyingly breathless. He had his hands up the back of her dress, each palming a cheek, his fingers dipping in between, and when he discovered how wet he’d made her, he groaned.

  She clutched at him, already halfway gone. “Archer—”

  “I know. Christ, Elle. You feel amazing.”

  “Now.” She didn’t even recognize her voice. “Right now.”

  “My office.” His voice was rough gravel, like he could barely speak. “My couch is bigger and not in pieces on the floor.”

  “No, here. Please . . .”

  His low laugh was sexy as hell, damn him. He knew exactly what he did to her. “I do like the please,” he murmured. “More of that.”

  “Archer, I swear to God if you don’t do me now, I’m going to hurt you.”

  “Mmmm. Bossy too.” His mouth was busy at her breasts, her bra tugged open, his teeth and tongue driving her wild. “You’re a fantasy come true, Elle.” His voice was thick with erotic promise, his hands following through on that promise, his fingers especially taking her straight to heaven. “And we’re going to get there. But not with you on your back on this floor.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  She made an unintelligible sound of objection and he soothed her with a hot kiss before pulling back and tugging her up to her knees. Then he turned her away from him and slid his hand down her back, encouraging her to bend over the coffee table.

  Before she could suggest that he bend over the table and they’d see if he liked it, his fingers were back in play between her thighs and she couldn’t remember why she’d wanted to object.

  He draped himself over her in a protective shell, his chest plastered along her back, his legs encasing hers, one arm around her middle, palming a breast, the other between her legs, those fingers slowly but surely driving her right out of her ever loving mind. His mouth was just as busy, his teeth teasing the side of her throat, her jaw. “Good?” he murmured.

  She nodded and then, to make sure he didn’t stop, gripped his wrist to hold his hand in place as lightning flashed through the window. She jerked but he wrapped himself around her. “I’ve got you,” he murmured.

  And he did. He had her writhing against him as he urged her thighs open as far as they could get with her panties wrapped around them and his long, powerful legs on either side of hers, all while his fingers teased, cajoled, coaxed her into a hot mess, knowingly moving in an oscillating circle that seriously tugged every single thought right out of her head. She felt surrounded by him, completely surrounded in the very best possible way as his hot, wet mouth played over the nape of her neck and shoulders. Her head fell back, her breath coming in short, desperate little whimpers, her entire world shrunk to this, to the pleasure of his body and mouth and fingers . . . God, those fingers. “Archer—”

  “You’re close,” he whispered hotly in her ear. “I can feel it.”

  She opened her mouth to disagree because she didn’t come quickly. Ever. But apparently she did now. She burst, quivering in delicious orgasm and then, before she could process the shock of that, he’d managed to put on a condom and thrust inside her, and she came yet again. Or still . . .

  “Fuck, Elle . . .” His fingers tightened on her hips as he filled her to capacity, reducing her to a puddle of goo. “You feel so good.”

  She bit her tongue hard so she wouldn’t make any noise, but it was almost impossible to remain quiet with him so hot and silky hard in
side of her. She could feel every single inch of him as he slid in and out, thrusting harder and deeper with each stroke, and it felt so incredible that she came again, oblivious to the storm around them or the fact that she was on her knees, bent over the table, begging for more.

  He gave it to her, everything she wanted, and when she cried out his name, he groaned something back, something hot and erotically dirty, and he shuddered and finally let himself go.

  From the dim recesses of her mind she remembered how she’d felt watching that couple go at each other in the elevator like the rest of the world didn’t exist, remembered thinking wistfully that she’d never experienced such a thing.

  She could now check that box off.

  For a long moment they stayed still in that instance in the dark, Archer pressed up against her, the two of them panting for air, muscles trembling, before he finally shifted.

  And she thought, okay, that’s it. He’s going to stand, zip, and walk out the door.