Break the Sky

by Nina Lane

  I parted my lips and let him inside. Heat spread through me, and my head filled with the taste and scent of him. I put my hand against his chest. A shiver ran up my arm at the sensation of his muscles beneath his T-shirt. He was such a man, all hard edges and coiled strength. He cupped his hand against the back of my neck to hold me in place. I let him take the lead, already knowing he would take me somewhere thrilling.

  He edged closer, crowding me up against a tree, enveloping me in a cocoon of heat. He moved his mouth with increasing pressure over mine. Lust swirled through me, pooling in my lower body as he nibbled at my lower lip and flicked his tongue out to lick the corner of my mouth. My nipples budded up against the slopes of his chest. A hot, heady pulse throbbed in my blood and centered in my clit. I wanted to strip down right then and there, spread my legs, and let him…

  He moved his hands down my sides to grasp my hips. Slowly he pushed his thigh between my legs, rubbing it against my sex. A moan escaped me. I squeezed my legs around his thigh, unable to stop myself from pressing against him. A jolt of electricity sizzled in my veins.

  “Come on, storm girl.” His voice was husky as he slid his lips across my cheek to my ear, his breath a warm trail over my skin. “Let’s finish what we started the other night.”

  Excitement and a touch of fear rose in me. Though I knew the isolated trail was deserted, I glanced around nervously. Archer took my earlobe between his teeth. My nerves tingled with pleasure. The world felt dizzying, a riot of colors centering on the sensation of Archer’s hands on my hips and his body against mine. I drove my fingers into the thick strands of his hair, turning my face toward him.

  “Kiss me again,” I breathed.

  His mouth covered mine. He tightened his grip on my hips and pushed me down on his thigh.

  “Christ, I can feel your heat through your jeans,” he murmured, his eyes burning as he lifted his head. “I can’t wait to touch you. To watch you shatter beneath me.”

  A hard shiver rocked me. I couldn’t even muster up any indignation over his arrogant assumption that he would get into my pants one day.

  “Do it,” he ordered, shifting his thigh against me. “Make yourself come.”

  Heat flooded me. The seam of my jeans pressed against my clit. I squirmed, aching, writhing my hips up and down against Archer’s thigh, then around in a slow circle. I wanted to prolong the delicious sensations building inside me, wanted to stay here forever, my body sealed to his, but my urgency spun like a vortex. Archer’s voice was a deep rumble against my ear as I moved faster, faster…

  I gasped. “Oh, I’m…”

  His mouth crashed down on mine again, muffling my cry of pleasure as stars burst inside me, a wave of sensation. He held me against him, rubbing his thigh slowly against me while the wave receded. Breathless, I closed my eyes and let my forehead fall against his chest.

  I could feel his heart pounding. Warmth rose from his skin. I wanted to slide my hand down to the hard bulge pressing against his jeans, but before I could move, he closed his hands around my shoulders.

  “Just in case,” he whispered, tugging me upright.

  “But you…”

  His chuckle brushed against my hair. “I’ll survive. Maybe.”

  We separated reluctantly. I moved away from him, trying to calm the lingering pulses in my blood.

  God in heaven. If he could make me so hot with one kiss and without either of us taking off our clothes, what would it be like when we were both naked?

  If we were both naked. Not when.

  “It’s getting late,” I said, disliking the regret I felt. Regret that had nothing to do with getting sexy with Archer and everything to do with cutting short this impulsive, dizzying time. “I should go home.”

  We walked slowly to the parking lot. As we got back on the Harley, my mind flickered with questions and rationalizations that I didn’t know how to deal with.

  Why shouldn’t I have a fling with him? I was a grown woman. He’d laid it all out on the line. I knew what I’d be getting into. And I’d been so instantly attracted to him, that hot pull of lust like nothing I’d felt before. With all the crap going on at work, I deserved the mindless pleasure of a good time.

  I just didn’t know why I was so fucking scared.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ARCHER

  AFTER A SATURDAY-AFTERNOON BIKE RIDE, I showered and shaved before going to Dean and Liv’s apartment before dinner. I half hoped Dean wasn’t home. Liv was so much easier to deal with. But when I knocked, Dean called for me to come in. Smoke lingered in the kitchen along with the smell of something burned.

  I went into the living room. Dean stood by the bedroom with the squirming baby in his arms. Nicholas was whining and crying.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “What’s burning?”

  “Frozen pizza.” Dean shook his head and shifted Nicholas to his other arm. “Forgot it was in the oven when Nicholas woke up. I can’t get him to stop crying. Usually bouncing calms him down.”

  He looked at the baby and jiggled him. Dean was dressed in torn jeans and a faded, stained T-shirt, and he also looked tired as hell. Not so much the perfect professor.

  I approached and peered at Nicholas. The kid’s face was red and damp. “Is he hungry?”

  “I don’t think so. I tried to feed him. Changed him twice.”

  “Did you burp him?”

  Dean shot me a look. “How do you know about burping babies?”

  “TV.”

  “Yeah, I burped him.”

  “Maybe he’s tired.”

  “He just woke up. He screams louder every time I put him down.”

  “Could he be teething?” I asked, which I also knew from TV.

  “I have no idea.” Dean thrust the bundle of baby toward me. “Hold him for a sec, would you? I’ve needed to take a leak for the past fifteen minutes, but he won’t let me put him down.”

  Hah. Professor West, at the mercy of a baby.

  “Take him,” Dean snapped at me.

  I held up my hands in defense. “I’ve never held a baby.”

  “It’s not rocket science.” Dean grabbed my arms and put Nicholas into the crook of my elbow. Alarmed, I closed my arms around the baby.

  “Bounce,” Dean called as he headed for the bathroom.

  “I don’t bounce, man.”

  “So learn.” The bathroom door slammed.

  I looked down at the kid. He squirmed and squawked like an upset puppy. I tried to bounce him a little. He cried harder. He was loud for such a small creature.

  “Where’s Liv?” I asked when Dean returned to the living room.

  “Working at the café. Allie’s car broke down, so Liv went in to cover for her. I don’t want to call her and bug her.” Dean stopped, his hands on his hips, and stared down at his son. “You think he’s getting sick?”

  I had no idea why Dean would think I’d know if Nicholas was getting sick. I shrugged.

  “Maybe he just has gas or something.” I waited for Dean to take the baby again. He didn’t, only continued looking at him with a frown.

  “Maybe we should take his temperature,” he suggested.

  We?

  “Uh…” I shifted Nicholas to my other arm and kept bouncing him. Even though it was having no effect, I didn’t know what else to do. The baby cried louder.

  I raised my voice above the noise. “You sure you don’t want to call Liv?”

  Dean scowled. “I can handle taking care of my son for a few hours.”

  “Yeah, you’re doing a bang-up job.”

  His scowl deepened. I figured I couldn’t do much worse calming Nicholas down, so I started walking around, still sort of bouncing him.

  Dean went into the kitchen and returned with two bottles of beer. He put one on the coffee table and indicated it was mine before taking a swig from the other bottle.

  A knock came at the door. Dean left to answer it. I opened the balcony door to let in some fresh air. Nicholas was sweating, and I u
nzipped his little hoodie so he could feel the breeze.

  “What?” Dean groaned. “Oh, shit. I totally forgot.”

  “I can see that,” replied a woman drily. “Unless your new aftershave is Eau de Baby Spit-Up.”

  A slightly husky voice that scraped my nerves. I’d have known it anywhere. I turned the second she walked into the room.

  Jesus. She wore a black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and fell just above her knees to show off her incredible legs. A strand of pearls draped to her breasts. Her blonde hair was loose around her shoulders with that blue streak like a lightning bolt down one side. She looked stunning. She was stunning.

  Just the sight of her made me remember how hot and tense she’d felt writhing against my thigh. I tried to shove the memory aside before it overtook me.

  Kelsey stopped, the faint surprise on her face quickly hidden by her cool fire. “What are you doing here?”

  “Getting a key.”

  “What key?”

  “The key to the trailer.” Dean closed the front door and returned to the living room. “Archer’s going to stay in the trailer while he’s here.”

  “The trailer at the Butterfly House? Why?”

  “I’m going to work on the house for a couple of weeks,” I said.

  Kelsey stared at me. I smiled at her. Her face reddened. I knew she wasn’t the kind of woman who blushed easily. She sure did around me, though.

  “A couple of weeks,” she repeated.

  “He’s worked in construction,” Dean explained. “He offered to help us get the place finished up.”

  “Oh.” Regaining her composure, Kelsey turned to him. “Well, are you going to get ready or what?”

  Dean sighed. “I can’t go, Kels. Liv got called into the café, and Nicholas is… well, I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but…”

  He stopped and looked at me. I looked at Nicholas, suddenly realizing he’d stopped crying. His face was still scrunched up, but he was staring outside at the plants on the balcony. Another breeze came into the room. He blinked.

  I glanced up. Dean seemed surprised. So was I.

  “Well, he was upset earlier,” Dean told Kelsey. “I think he might be getting sick.”

  A crease of concern appeared between Kelsey’s eyebrows. She came toward Nicholas and me, reaching out to touch the baby’s forehead.

  “He doesn’t feel warm.” She held out her arms.

  I shifted Nicholas into them. I liked that she wanted to hold a drooling, damp baby even though she was all dressed up. The woman wasn’t afraid to put herself in the line of fire.

  She did some female cooing at Nicholas while rocking him. He gazed at her adoringly and gurgled.

  “Kelsey, I really can’t go,” Dean repeated.

  “I told you about this dinner four weeks ago,” Kelsey said. I could see her feathers getting ruffled as she turned to face him. “It’s to welcome the new head of the Physical Sciences College. I already signed up as bringing a date, and if I show up without you, they’ll put me next to the chancellor but only because I’m a woman in a science department and not because—”

  “I’ll go with you,” I interrupted.

  Both Kelsey and Dean turned to look at me, as if I’d just offered to fly her to the moon.

  Didn’t think I could rescue a damsel in distress, huh?

  “You?” Kelsey asked.

  “Yeah, me.” I narrowed my eyes at her. She’d kiss me and rub herself against me, but had issues with me going to her fancy university party?

  “I can borrow Dean’s clothes,” I said, looking at my brother. “You’ve got a bunch of suits, right? One of them should fit me.”

  “Yeah, but…” Dean glanced at Kelsey. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “I’m not going to eat with my hands and belch,” I told him.

  “He means that I drag him to these things because I need someone who’s good with the faculty and administration,” Kelsey explained. “Professor West can work a university crowd, you know?”

  “What I know,” I said, “is that you’re desperate for a date and I’m the only other guy in the room. You want me in or out?”

  Kelsey stared at me, her eyes darkening over the implications of that comment. I didn’t take my gaze from hers. Her lips parted.

  “In,” she finally said. “I want you… in.”

  I wanted in, too. A thousand ways in.

  “So, Dean, can he borrow a suit?” Kelsey asked.

  Dean still didn’t look as if he thought too much of this idea, but he couldn’t stop me from going. He nodded and jerked his thumb at the bedroom.

  “Take whatever clothes you need.”

  I went into the bedroom and opened the closet, unsurprised to see a bunch of tailored suits all lined up like soldiers. I took out a navy blue suit and white shirt. Glad I’d showered and shaved earlier, I stripped out of my jeans and dressed in the shirt and trousers. They fit okay. I found dark socks in one of the drawers and put on a pair of shoes from the closet. I returned to the living room.

  Kelsey and Dean both looked at me. I stopped.

  “What?” I asked. “You want me to go, you take what you get.”

  “No.” Kelsey cleared her throat, her gaze sweeping over me. “You… you look great.”

  “You need a tie,” Dean said.

  Shit.

  “I hate ties,” I said.

  He shrugged. “You need to wear one.”

  “You look great,” Kelsey repeated, “but Dean’s right. Ties are sort of expected at these things.”

  I returned to the bedroom and grabbed a striped tie from the closet. Embarrassment crept up my chest.

  “Hey, Dean?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Come here a sec.”

  He came in, holding Nicholas. “What?”

  “I… uh, I don’t know how to tie a tie. Never had to wear one.”

  “Oh.” He stopped and put Nicholas in a crib by the side of the bed.

  He took the tie from me and put it around his neck. After going to the mirror, he tied a loose knot with a few quick movements. Then he pulled the tie over his head and draped it over mine, fussing with it so that it was under my collar.

  “You’ve worn a tie before,” he said.

  “When?”

  “When Mom and Dad dragged us to the governor’s mansion. Mom always made us wear suits and ties.”

  “Oh, yeah.” A memory flickered. Dean and I had both hated those political events. We were expected to sit quietly and not touch anything in the governor’s huge mansion. So we sat and fidgeted with our ties and tried to ease our misery by burping and making fart noises under our breath.

  “Turn.” Dean pushed me toward the mirror and got behind me, reaching around to adjust the tie into a perfect knot. When he was done, he nodded. “Good. Thanks for doing this.”

  Thanks was a damn sight better than a warning about treating Kelsey well. I’d half expected him to tell me to bring her home by curfew.

  Kelsey looked me over again when we returned to the living room.

  “Nice,” she said. “You clean up well.”

  “I do other things well, too,” I assured her in a low voice as we walked to the door.

  “I know.” She glanced at me, her cheeks getting pink.

  It was fun to get her flustered. Anything unexpected threw off her balance, and I knew I was unexpected.

  We went downstairs, and she took her keys from her purse. I extended my hand.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I’ll drive.”

  “You will not drive. I’ll drive.”

  “You want me to be your date, fine. But when I go out with a woman, I’m the one who drives. Car, bike, boat, whatever.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Kelsey rolled her eyes, but dropped the keys into my hand.

  “You don’t like giving in, do you?” I asked. “Don’t like giving up either, I’ll bet.”

  “Do you?”<
br />
  “Depends on what it is I’m giving up.” I stopped to open the passenger-side door for her.

  I caught a whiff of her scent, something clean and sweet that made heat pool in my groin. I deliberately didn’t move away as she passed me to get into the car. I could’ve smelled her all night. Buried my face in her hair, pressed my nose against her neck, breathed her in.

  I closed the door behind her and went around to the driver’s seat.

  “So where is this place?” I reached for the lever to push the seat back as she gave me directions.

  We drove in silence for a few minutes. She was tense again. Arms folded, her gaze focused outside the side window.

  “I’m not going to act like an ass,” I assured her.

  “I didn’t think you would,” she replied. “I would just like to establish that this isn’t a date.”

  “The bike ride wasn’t a date, either. Neither was the night at the bar.” I shot her a smile. “But we had fun, right? I know I did.”

  “Why are you staying longer than a couple of days?”

  Good question. I turned onto the road leading toward the university. I wasn’t about to give her all the answers. I didn’t know them myself.

  “Because I need to work,” I finally said. “Because I don’t have to be back in Nevada anytime soon. Because of you.”

  I sensed her turn to look at me, felt the rise in her tension.

  “If that’s supposed to be flattering, it’s not,” she said.

  I shrugged. “Take it the way you want to. I told you I’d be straight with you.”

  “You’ve been more than straight with me,” she muttered. “You’ve also been arrogant, overbearing, and downright rude. If I were a lady, I’d have slapped you ages ago.”

  I laughed. “You can slap me now, if you want. I might enjoy it.”

  A faint smile curved her mouth. “Don’t tempt me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No.”

  I pulled the car into a parking space in front of the red brick building of the university club. Neither of us got out right away. I turned to her.

  In the dim light of the streetlamps, her features were shadowed, but her eyes burned bright blue. Her full lips, red as cherries, were parted slightly. I looked at her face, her thick eyelashes, the straight, narrow ridge of her nose, the slope of her high cheekbones and jaw. She had a regal look about her, like a princess.