Break the Sky

by Nina Lane

  “Are they off?” Archer asked.

  “They’re off,” I said breathlessly.

  “Pull your skirt all the way up to your waist.”

  I did it. “Okay.”

  “Now put one foot on your desk and touch yourself.”

  I sank into my office chair again and rested my foot on the edge of my desk. Before I could second-guess the utter inappropriateness of what I was doing, I spread my hand over my sex and rubbed. I knew what was coming. And I could hardly wait.

  “Imagine I’m watching you,” Archer murmured in my ear. “Spread open that pretty, pink slit and slide your finger inside. Feel how tight you are? You grip my cock like a fist. It’s so fucking incredible when I thrust inside you. Put your other hand under your shirt and play with your tits. Your nipples are hard, aren’t they? Is that why you like wearing sexy lingerie, so it rubs against your breasts and pussy?”

  Heat filled my throat. My veins sizzled as Archer’s deep voice poured a ribbon of dirty talk into my ear. I closed my eyes and imagined his body lined with tension, his hand sliding over his thick erection—aided and abetted by a pair of my panties—the tautness of his muscles.

  “I’m already about to come,” I confessed, sliding my thumb over my slippery clit.

  “Not yet. Tell me what you want.”

  I gripped the phone harder. I couldn’t tell him everything I wanted. Too much of it had never been part of the deal.

  “You,” I whispered. I want you. I want you with me, in my house, in my bed, in my body, in my life.

  My pulse pounded. I pressed the heel of my hand against my clit.

  “I want you inside me,” I said, pressure coiling through my lower body. “I want you pounding into me, hot and hard. I wish I was there right now, wish I could spread my legs for you… oh, I’m so ready…”

  “Fuck yourself with your fingers,” Archer ordered, his voice hoarse. “Like you do when you’re alone at night.”

  I slipped two fingers into my opening and squeezed my muscles around them with a gasp.

  “Feels good?” Archer asked.

  “As a substitute, yes,” I whispered, stroking my inner flesh. “But I want you.”

  “I want you too. Want to plunge into you balls-deep and hear you beg for more. Want to feel your sweet cunt tightening around my cock.”

  I worked my fingers faster, letting my legs open wider, picturing his hot gaze on the juncture of my thighs. Shivers rolled through me as the tension coiled harder.

  “I need you to fuck me,” I murmured.

  “Soon,” he promised, his voice a throaty growl. “Soon I will. Get yourself off now. I want to hear you come.”

  My breathing became faster, quick little pants in rhythm with the rush of my blood. A trickle of perspiration dripped between my breasts. I rubbed my clit harder, gasping as explosions burst through my veins. I closed my eyes and pictured Archer on my bed, his muscular body tensing as he worked toward his own release. And then his deep groan slid through the airwaves and into my heart.

  Right where I was beginning to want him. And right where he scared me the most.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ARCHER

  DEAN HAD HIRED A FEW CONSTRUCTION guys to work two days a week at the Butterfly House, but the rest of the time I worked alone. I’d finished the hardwood in two of the downstairs rooms and had started work on the stairs. With the other guys also working, we’d be done with the floors by next week and could start on the kitchen.

  I worked for a couple of hours cutting and fitting boards, thinking the whole time about Kelsey and what I wanted to do with her next. I should have been rattled by how I couldn’t get her out of my head, but I wasn’t. I liked her there. She was like a guard, blocking out everything else.

  An incredibly hot, sexy guard with honey-blonde hair and lips like cherries and a sleek, gorgeous body that—

  “Archer?”

  I snapped my attention back into place. “Be right down.”

  I took a few breaths and went downstairs to where Liv was pushing through the door with Nicholas in one arm and a book of drapery swatches in the other. I hurried to take the book and hold the door open for her.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’ve got some tile samples in the car, too.”

  “I’ll get them.”

  I brought in the stuff from the trunk and joined her in the kitchen. Nicholas wore a little San Francisco Giants baseball jersey and shorts. He had his fingers stuffed in his mouth again. I picked up his unoccupied hand and gave him a fist-bump. He blew a spit bubble.

  “The floors look beautiful, Archer,” Liv said with admiration. “You really know what you’re doing.”

  “Lots of practice, I guess. Is Dean coming up today?”

  “No, he went to the library over in Forest Grove. He should be back soon, but we’re going on a date tonight so I doubt he’ll stop here to work.”

  “A date, huh?”

  Her cheeks got a little pink, which was cute. “Marianne babysits Nicholas a couple times a month so Dean and I can go out.”

  “Where does he take you?” I asked.

  “Medieval Times. We eat turkey legs, drink mead, and watch a joust.”

  “Really?”

  Liv laughed. “No. Usually dinner, sometimes a movie or play. Probably sounds boring.”

  “No. It sounds nice.”

  “It is nice,” she agreed. “Really nice. Hey, speaking of dinner, I wanted to ask if you could come over one night? I’ll cook.”

  “Dean’s okay with that?”

  “Well, I haven’t given him food poisoning yet.”

  I grinned. “I mean, with me coming over for dinner.”

  “He will be. It’s about time you two sat down and broke bread together.”

  A ringtone chimed. Liv shifted Nicholas to her other arm and reached for her phone. “Hey, Allie… What happened?”

  I stepped into the other room to give her some privacy, but her voice still echoed in the unfurnished rooms.

  “I can’t, Allie. I have Nicholas with me… Dean’s not here, and Marianne is visiting her daughter this afternoon… wait, can you call Rachel?… oh. Okay, okay… I’ll figure something out. I’ll call you back.”

  “Problem?” I asked when she came into the sunroom.

  “Oh, a scheduling snafu, plus one of the girls called in sick,” she said. “Allie says they just got in a party of eight and she needs me to come in until the next shift.” She punched a few buttons on her phone. “I’m going to call Kelsey and see if she can take care of Nicholas just for a couple of hours.”

  “I can take care of him,” I offered without thinking.

  Liv looked at me. “You?”

  “Yeah.” I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Uh, if you want me to, that is.”

  Of course she didn’t want me to. I had no idea what made me offer.

  “I mean, I guess Kelsey would be a better—” I started.

  “That would be great, Archer. Thank you!” Liv plunked Nicholas into my arms without hesitation. “I promise, it won’t be long at all. Let me grab his diaper bag.”

  She went out to the car. I looked at Nicholas. He blinked.

  “Okay, here’s all his stuff.” Liv came back in and dropped a huge cloth bag on a worktable. “Toys, diapers, wipes, a bottle, change of clothes. You have my cell number and the café number, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Call if you have any questions.” Liv dropped a kiss on Nicholas’s cheek. “Two hours max. You’re a lifesaver. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need to, okay?”

  “Sure. We’ll be fine.” I hoped.

  Liv waved and hurried out the front door. With her departure, a hush fell over the house.

  I was alone with a five-month-old kid. What the hell was I thinking?

  At least Nicholas didn’t seem to mind. He pulled his fingers from his mouth and grabbed my ear.

  “Ow. Not cool, dude.” I pulled my ear from his slippery grip. “Come on, let’s
go outside.”

  I took him out to the garden. The kid definitely liked trees and plants. He kept staring at the leaves and branches. I hoped Dean would build him a tree house one day. Nicholas seemed like he’d be a tree house kind of kid.

  After a few trips around the garden, he started getting antsy. I went back inside and entertained him with some of the toys from the bag. Then he got a red, scrunched-up look on his face and farted.

  “Oh, crap.” I’d never changed a diaper before.

  “First time for everything,” I muttered, figuring I could call Liv for instructions if things got really complicated. I dug in the diaper bag with my free hand and found a soft, plastic mat, a diaper, and a baggie filled with wipes. “Okay, kid. Here we go.”

  I went into the living room and spread the mat on the hardwood floor before putting Nicholas on top of it. He whined and wiggled. No wonder. It had to be a bummer to have a loaded diaper.

  I put my cell phone next to him in case I needed to make an emergency call to Liv. I figured out how to work the snaps on Nicholas’s little shirt and shorts and examined the way his current diaper was configured. Then I steeled myself and unfastened the Velcro straps.

  “Damn. Good one, man.”

  Working fast and holding my breath, I managed to take the diaper off him and clean him up before setting him on the new diaper. He squirmed, but overall was cooperative, like he knew I was doing him a favor. I threw the dirty stuff in the trash and washed my hands in the bathroom. I hoped babies didn’t crap more than once in two hours.

  When that task was done, I picked him up and got the bottle out of the bag. We went to the front porch and sat on one of the rocking chairs. Nicholas seemed content on my lap. I pushed my foot to rock the chair a little.

  “Want to listen to some music?” I took out my phone and scrolled my playlist. “The first thing you need to learn is that the Rolling Stones created some of the most epic songs in music history. ‘Gimme Shelter’ is a case in point.”

  I pushed the play button and tapped my leg as the song started.

  “Pink Floyd is a close second,” I continued before playing “Another Brick in the Wall,” then Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone” and a few more.

  “You should always have a top twenty list,” I told Nicholas. “And be sure you have a couple of romantic type songs in there too, for when you want to create a playlist. Girls love that sh… stuff.”

  The sound of a car engine rumbled up the drive. I glanced at my watch. It hadn’t been two hours yet, but maybe Liv had left the café early. I hefted Nicholas into my arms and walked down the porch steps.

  A black sedan came to a stop on the gravel drive. Not Liv. Dean.

  He got out, slamming the door behind him, and stopped when he saw me.

  “Hey,” he said. “Where’s Liv?”

  “At the café. There was some scheduling problem, so she had to go in.”

  He looked at Nicholas then back at me. The pieces clicked.

  “You’re here alone?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” A defensive note hardened my voice. “Liv was dropping some stuff off here when she got Allie’s call. I told her I’d watch Nicholas for a couple of hours.”

  He didn’t say anything. I couldn’t read his expression. I went to hand Nicholas over to him.

  “We just hung out,” I said, backing away. “Listened to some music. He’s fine.”

  “I didn’t think he wouldn’t be,” Dean said.

  “Yeah, you did.”

  Dean frowned. “I don’t think you’re incompetent, man.”

  “No, you just think I’m a slacker.”

  “You never gave me a reason to think differently.”

  “I’m trying to give you one now.”

  Shit. I didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want him to think I was after his approval. I didn’t care if he approved of me or not. I also didn’t like the idea of Nicholas one day thinking of me as his loser Uncle Archer.

  “Liv left some tile samples,” I said, heading toward my bike. “Soon as she decides, you can order the tile. I’ll start laying it as soon as it comes in. It’ll take a few days to set.”

  I put my helmet on and swung a leg over the seat.

  “Archer,” Dean called.

  I looked up.

  “Thanks,” he said. “For helping out. You’re really good with Nicholas.”

  A weird feeling of pleasure and embarrassment filled me. Not knowing how to respond, I nodded and started the engine.

  Over the past week, Dean had complimented me often on the work I was doing in the house, but for some reason, this was different. As I drove away, I almost felt the way I had as a kid whenever I heard my brother’s praise.

  Just… good.

  I parked on Avalon Street and grabbed my notebook from the saddlebag. I walked to a coffeehouse for a large take-out coffee, then went to the outdoor terrace overlooking the lake. A streak of blue flashed across my vision as I scanned the crowded tables.

  Kelsey sat with a younger woman at a table strewn with folders and papers. Since they looked busy, I started to turn away when Kelsey lifted her head. Her blue gaze arced right into me. Filled me with heat.

  She gestured to the empty chair at the table. “Come sit down.”

  “You look busy.”

  “We’re almost done. Archer, this is Tess, one of my grad students. Tess, this is my friend Archer.”

  “Hi.” Tess extended a hand. “Good to meet you.”

  “You too.” I pushed the chair away and sat, putting my notebook on the table. “You’re also a storm researcher?”

  Tess nodded. “Yes, I’m interested in storm genesis. We’re going out next week to chase in northeast Texas.”

  “We?” I looked at Kelsey. “You’re going too?”

  She shook her head. Tess glanced at her.

  “You should go,” she said.

  “I’m not going,” Kelsey replied in a curt, “I’m your professor” tone of voice.

  Tess appeared unfazed by it. “The last several runs of the global models look promising.”

  Kelsey started collecting the papers. “You go and send me the results. I’ll be base support, as always.”

  “Why don’t you want to go?” I asked Kelsey.

  “I have work to do here,” she replied. “Not that it’s your business.”

  I frowned. What was with the attitude?

  “Kelsey doesn’t chase storms,” Tess told me. “Though the guys and I are always trying to get her to come with us.”

  I suppressed a bolt of jealousy. “What guys?”

  “My graduate students,” Kelsey said. “They go out all the time to collect field data.”

  “And you don’t go with them?”

  “I stopped chasing storms years ago.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s grad student work,” Kelsey said. “I assimilate the data and results in the lab and write up all the proposals and reports.”

  “Why don’t you go into the field anymore?”

  “It’s not my job.”

  That didn’t sound right. I’d seen TV shows about storm chasing. Those guys were always meteorologists and professors.

  “Could you go if you wanted to?” I asked.

  “For a limited time, probably,” Kelsey admitted. “But my contract with King’s has clauses about outside work and teaching duties. And it wouldn’t be good for my reputation in the department or with the administration.”

  Though that made more sense, something still sounded off about her excuse.

  “What about the Spiral Project?” I asked. “Doesn’t that require fieldwork?”

  When Kelsey didn’t respond, I glanced at Tess.

  “It’s mostly about getting data on tornados from the field,” Tess said. “But Kelsey has structured the project around the concept of her directing it from a home base while others travel with the field unit.”

  “Why do you want to work from a home base?” I asked Kelsey.

&
nbsp; She shot me a frown that only made me want to dig deeper. Apparently sensing the tension, Tess stood and shoved a few folders into her backpack.

  “Kelsey, I’ll take these back to the office, okay?” she said. “And I’ll have the report to you tomorrow.”

  “Sure. Thanks, Tess.”

  After the girl had left, Kelsey glared at me. “What was that about?”

  I had no idea. “Just doesn’t make sense. You’re in this because you love weather, right? So why aren’t you out in it?”

  “I’m a professor, for heaven’s sake, Archer,” she said. “Yes, atmospheric scientists need to do fieldwork all the time, but my grad students love doing it, and I don’t have a problem letting them.”

  “Then why are they always asking you to go with them?”

  “They’re not. Tess was exaggerating.” Kelsey shook her head. “Even if I wanted to go, I couldn’t. I mean, every now and then I could, but I could never take off for months at a time to travel with the Spiral Project. Even if I did secure funding again.”

  “Does this have to do with tenure?”

  “I need tenure to keep the Spiral Project alive,” she admitted. “If I don’t get it, I’m fired from King’s and have to look for another job. And the Spiral Project would die.”

  “Why?”

  “Because everyone will assume I was denied tenure because of the project,” she replied. “And no other university or agency will want to touch it with a ten-foot pole.”

  She pushed some papers into a folder. “Anyway, I’ll know soon enough.”

  “When?”

  “A couple of weeks, I hope. The university board gave their recommendation to the chancellor, and now the final decision is up to him.”

  “Save a day to celebrate with me.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “And if there’s nothing to celebrate?”

  “We’ll find something.”

  Kelsey nudged me with her foot. “What if you’re gone by then?”

  “I won’t be.” I grabbed her ankle under the table and ran my hand over the arch of her foot. “It’ll take me at least that long to own your body.”

  Even though she rolled her eyes, a flush colored her cheeks.