by Nina Lane
“Say it,” he whispered.
“I… I surrender.”
“Good girl.” His mouth crashed down on my mine again.
I surrendered. I was dimly aware of him pulling his hand away from me, the shifting as he worked the fly of his jeans, the strain of my thighs. But I couldn’t even think past the lust clouding my mind and body, the beat of music pulsing in my blood. I could still hear it through the walls of the club, still felt the sweat trickling down my back.
“Hold on,” Archer muttered, a second before thrusting into me with a grunt.
I gasped, gripping his shoulders, tightening my legs around him. His cock filled me, stretched me, his body slamming against mine as he clutched my thighs and thrust again and again. I let my head fall back, closing my eyes, the bricks behind me vibrating with the noise from inside.
“Archer…”
He plunged into me, thick and hot. A cry broke from my throat. The rough wall chafed against my ass and lower back. I squeezed my inner walls around his shaft. So big. He was so big I felt the blood pumping through his cock, the slap of his testicles against me.
“Oh, fuck…” He groaned, lowering his head to capture my lips again.
I opened, letting him drive his tongue into my mouth in the same rhythm as his thrusts. I was electrified. Consumed. His breath scorched my lips, his stubble-rough jaw abrading mine as he slid his mouth across my cheek to my ear.
“You are so fucking hot.” His voice was as deep and dark as the ocean. “So tight… let me feel you come again… harder than you ever have… come on, baby.”
He surged into me. I cried out and came violently, shuddering and quaking around him an instant before he gave a muffled shout and shot deep inside me. I clung to him, my blood pulsing. Heat drenched the air.
Before the quivers had eased from my body, he lifted me from against the wall, sliding his hands over my naked rear. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and buried my head in his shoulder. I was shaking hard.
The world steadied back into balance with the dizzying, windswept sensation of slowing after a wild roller-coaster ride. Again I had the sense that Archer was the only solid element in the entire world.
His breath rasped over my temple. Music still thumped through the walls. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt his heart pounding against my breasts.
“I need to go home,” I whispered.
Archer didn’t release me right away. I think he might have even held me tighter. He was so strong. I had no fear of falling, not with him holding me, our bodies sealed together like the pages of a closed book.
He slowly lowered me to the ground, steadying me even as he gazed at my disheveled body. He tugged my dress down and smoothed his hands over my waist and hips. He straightened his clothes before we went back into the club. He retrieved our coats, draping mine around me.
As we approached the parking lot, I handed him my car keys without him needing to ask. Part of me was dimly aware how unlike me all this was, turning things over to anyone. Especially a man like him. But I was thrown totally off balance, not even sure if I knew who I was anymore.
And increasingly terrified that I only wanted to be his.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KELSEY
I WOKE NAKED IN MY BED. Gray morning light streamed through the curtains. I blinked. A sheet draped over my body, but I had nothing else on. I shifted and rose to one elbow, shoving my hair out of my eyes. The scent of fresh coffee drifted to my nose.
Oh, no, he wasn’t. Archer West was not in my kitchen right now making coffee. No way.
I stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. I got in the shower, welcoming the spray of scorching-hot water, trying to wash away all the thoughts I didn’t want to think, the feelings I didn’t know what to do with.
I was surrendering. That meant I was giving up, relinquishing control, waving the white flag because I’d lost all hope of winning the battle. At the same time, I wasn’t even certain what winning actually meant where Archer West was concerned.
I stepped out of the shower and pressed a towel to my wet face. I could hardly remember what had happened last night after we’d left the club. I’d closed my eyes in the car, but after that everything was a blank. I couldn’t imagine that Archer and I had engaged in more hot sex and I’d forgotten about it.
I dried my hair and pulled on yoga pants and a T-shirt. I’d be damned if I was going to give up my weekend frumpiness for him. A girl had to hold on to something.
Even so, I quickly brushed my hair and powdered my nose. I found my glasses on the nightstand and put them on before I went in search of him. A delicious, intoxicating smell drifted through the house.
Bacon. The man was frying bacon. I had to get him out of here.
I stopped in the kitchen doorway. Bacon sizzled and popped in the frying pan, and a carton of eggs rested on the counter. Archer stood by the stove, dressed in the same jeans and wrinkled shirt from the previous night.
I leaned a shoulder on the doorjamb and tried to ignore the flutters of awareness tingling through me.
He turned. “Morning.”
“What are you doing here? What happened last night?”
“You fell asleep in the car.”
“I did?”
He nodded. “You crashed pretty hard. I carried you in and put you to bed.”
“Did you, um…” A flush crept up my neck, which was silly considering how raw he and I had been together. “Undress me?”
“I did.” Archer looked at me solemnly. “But I did not cop a feel.”
I narrowed my eyes with suspicion. “You didn’t?”
“Well.” He held up his thumb and forefinger close together. “Maybe just a small one. I couldn’t help myself. You have an incredible pair of breasts.”
My flush deepened. He really couldn’t do the cute Archer thing. Not now.
“Where did you sleep?” I asked.
“Next to you.”
Next to me.
Archer glanced down at his wrinkled shirt. “Gonna have to bring a suitcase next time.”
A suitcase. Something twisted inside me at the idea of him bringing his stuff over. Staying here. In my house.
“Hey.” He turned from the stove, resting his hips against the counter. “You okay?”
I was not okay. I’d gone out last night dressed like a slut. I’d let him finger me in a parking lot. I’d rubbed my bare ass against his erection in the middle of a crowded dance floor. Then I’d let him… no, begged him… to fuck me against the side of the building in a goddamn garbage alley.
My throat constricted. What the hell was I doing?
I rubbed my hands over my thighs. “You need to go.”
He lifted an eyebrow. I shook my head. I couldn’t have him standing in my kitchen making coffee and frying bacon, like we were suddenly some warm and cozy domestic couple. Next thing I knew we’d be going to the hardware store and paying a visit to the fucking mall.
I cleared my throat. “You need to go now.”
He reached back to turn off the stove burner. “You’re going dark again.”
“Damn right I am.” I stalked across the kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator. “Because of you. Because I agreed to whatever the hell it is we’re doing.”
Archer frowned. “Why does it scare you so much?”
“What?”
“Giving up control.”
“It doesn’t scare me!”
Even as the denial burst out of me, I heard the quaver in my voice, the pathetic attempt to sound brave even while I was trembling.
But it wasn’t just giving up control that scared me. It was Archer West. It was the way I felt about him, whether he was fucking me up against a wall or standing in my kitchen frying bacon.
I pressed a hand to my tight chest. My heart raced. He moved closer. I felt him with every step he took in my direction. Next thing I knew, he was crowding me up against the open refrigerator, his body a solid wall of muscle and heat. I tried not t
o go weak in the knees as he put his hands on my waist and turned me to face him.
He studied me for a second and reached up to run his finger across my lower lip. I looked at his beautiful eyes. I had fallen, spinning wildly, into their bright darkness.
“Don’t be scared, storm girl,” he said. “I’ll protect you.”
I knew he would. That was the problem. I had spent most of my life protecting myself. The instinctive pull toward danger might be part of me, but there was no way it would ever fit in my life for good. I knew that. It was the reason I had armor.
And yet with Archer, I could surrender to the wild, impulsive side of me that I’d buried for so long. Even though he was a force of nature I couldn’t control, I wanted to live right in the center of him.
I groaned softly and leaned forward to press my forehead against his chest. I couldn’t figure out if this thing with him was completely fucked-up or the most natural, normal relationship I’d ever experienced.
“God in heaven,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Last night was so hot I thought we’d set the whole world on fire.”
His soft chuckle brushed against my hair. “One day, we will.”
I didn’t doubt it. His lightning-bolt intensity would ignite the first spark.
He slipped his hand under my chin and lifted my face for a kiss. Gentle and sweet, his lips brushing against mine. I spread my palms over his chest. The heat of him was a striking contrast to the open refrigerator behind me.
“My ass is getting cold,” I murmured.
“Hmm.” He reached around to squeeze my rear. “I can think of a few ways to warm it up.”
I smiled, even as a hot shiver coursed through me. I hadn’t forgotten his remark that I was “getting spanked.” Clearly he hadn’t, either.
He lowered his mouth to my ear. “Does that scare you?”
“No,” I admitted, though it did make me a little nervous. “Not with you.”
“Good.” His breath heated my neck.
I was getting all melty and soft again. Hadn’t I just ordered him to leave?
He didn’t seem at all inclined to follow my order as he moved his lips back to mine. He put his hands on either side of my head, angling my mouth against his. I fell into the delicious sensations, letting him overtake me.
After a minute, he moved us both away from the refrigerator and closed the door. He grasped my waist and lifted me onto the counter.
I wrapped my legs around his hips, expecting him to get back to the serious business of kissing, but instead he rested his hands on my thighs and looked at me with that unnerving, penetrating gaze.
“What?” I said.
“Why did you quit storm chasing?” he asked.
Frustration stabbed through me. I looked at his throat so I wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.
“I know you loved it,” he continued. “You loved the danger and unpredictability, even though it scared you.”
“I was not scared.”
“You sure?”
“Oh, for god’s sake.” I shoved his hands away from me and climbed off the counter. “I stopped because I got a job and started doing the work from a university computer lab. That’s it. There’s no big, dramatic reason. I chased storms a thousand years ago when I was young and liked the challenge. Then I grew up. End of story.”
“Bullshit.” Now he was frowning. “Tell me.”
“No. And stop barking orders like a drill sergeant. I don’t like it.”
“Yeah, you do. Because I’m the only person who’s ever ordered you to do anything. And even with all your tough-girl talk, you’re attracted to anything or anyone stronger and more powerful than you. Things that challenge you. Things you can’t control. That’s exactly why you love storms.”
All the air escaped my lungs. It was like he had just opened up a secret part of my heart that even I hadn’t known existed. And I couldn’t figure out if it was exhilarating or terrifying to discover that Archer West was the only person who had ever unlocked me.
“Come on, storm girl,” he said. “Show me how not scared you really are.”
I took a breath. My skin tingled.
“Is that a challenge?” I asked, injecting a note of disdain into my voice.
“No.” Archer grinned. “It’s a triple-dog dare.”
Well, shit.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
KELSEY
“THANKS FOR COMING, MR. CLEMENT.” I pushed away from the computer in the lab and went to greet Harold Clement of Edison Power. “Sorry I didn’t get your message sooner, or I’d have come to your office again.”
“That’s all right.” He gave me a warm smile as we shook hands. “I wanted to see your department anyway. I’ve always been fascinated by atmospheric sciences.”
“Hence the tie?” I asked, glancing at his necktie, which was patterned with lightning bolts.
“Better than a hula-dancer tie, right?”
I chuckled. “Much better. Classier, too.”
“So this is the lab for the entire department?” He glanced around at the computers and equipment. “I’d expected King’s would have bigger facilities.”
“It’s a thorn in our side,” I admitted. “We need upgraded equipment, even another lab entirely, but the university doesn’t have the money right now. We’re submitting a new proposal for it, though. Can I show you around?”
“Another day,” he said. “I know you need to leave soon, but I wanted to talk to you in person again.”
I nodded, and we went to the conference room. I kept my outward composure, though I’d been nervous since he’d called yesterday, asking to meet with me early this morning.
He hadn’t said why, so my mind had been spinning all night. Did he want to invite me to give my presentation to the head brass at Edison Power? Did he need more data? Did he have more questions? Did he want to return something I’d left in his office?
“I always think it’s more respectful to talk to people face-to-face, if you get a chance,” Harold said as we sat at the conference table.
“I agree.”
“So rather than send you an email, I wanted to tell you personally,” he continued, and the expression on his face indicated he wasn’t about to deliver good news.
I steeled my spine.
“I’m afraid the Edison board of directors doesn’t think the Spiral Project is the kind of program we’re looking to support at this time,” Harold said.
I absorbed the rush of disappointment, reminding myself I’d half expected a rejection.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I admitted, glad that my voice remained steady.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you,” Harold replied, his forehead creasing with regret. “I think your project is extraordinary, but Edison wants a program the community can get better involved with and that will help the Edison brand. Tornado research is so specialized, not to mention the board thinks the Spiral Project is too expensive and risky…”
He went on, but I stopped listening. I’d heard similar things from other agencies. Different music, same lyrics.
“I’m genuinely sorry, Professor March,” Harold continued as I walked with him to the elevators. “If it were up to me, Edison would throw a bunch of money at you. It’s an ambitious project, and I’d love to see you succeed with it.”
“You and me both.”
“Do let me know if there’s ever anything I can do to help you.”
I shook his hand and thanked him for his time. After he was gone, I returned to my office, gathered all the project data, and stuffed it in the desk drawer.
I glanced at the clock. Colton had said he would be on campus around nine. I called him to see if he was waiting for me, then grabbed my satchel and went downstairs.
Though Edison’s decision wasn’t unexpected, the rejection still hurt. Every rejection hurt, especially one that might have been another way.
The Spiral proposal was still with the National Science Foundation, and while I had a hard time muste
ring any hope that they would approve funding, they hadn’t yet said no. At least that was something.
I walked to the university parking lot, where Colton was taking some crates out of the back of his van.
“You’re good to go.” He slammed the van doors and handed me the keys. “I’ll call if I see anything promising on the Doppler.”
“Thanks. I’ll be back by Tuesday at the latest. Tess is taking over my classes on Monday.”
Colton nodded. “I’ll give her a hand with grading. Good luck.”
He waved as I got into the driver’s seat. Even before I pulled out of the campus parking lot, my heart started to race. I gripped the steering wheel as I drove to the Butterfly House. I parked by the front porch and let myself inside.
A radio blared. I found Archer in the front room, sexy as heaven and hell in his faded jeans and dirty white T-shirt, his head bent in concentration as he measured a slat of hardwood.
I turned down the radio. He looked up.
“Hi,” I said.
He straightened, his gaze sliding over me. “Hi, yourself.”
“It looks good,” I said, gesturing to the hardwood floor.
“Sure does.” He kept his eyes on me.
I smiled. I was wearing a silk-lined navy suit, a silk blouse, and navy pumps, an ensemble I was accustomed to, and one that made me feel in command. Like I’d been the day I met Archer in Dean’s office. I hadn’t felt quite so in command since then, but I liked that he appreciated how I dressed and looked in real life.
Which meant this thing with him was… what? A fantasy life? That was the only way I could think of it, even though everything about Archer West was more real, raw, and earthy than anything or anyone I’d ever encountered before.
He watched me. Little pinpoints of light glowed in his dark eyes. I tried to muster up my courage, knowing that once the invitation was out there, I couldn’t take it back. I wouldn’t.
“The model forecast is showing some activity moving into western Kansas,” I said, the words coming out fast. “Instability, lift, wind shear. I borrowed Colton’s van. I have a travel bag, food, my cell, a camcorder, an emergency kit, laptop, weather radio and scanner, and a full tank of gas. I need to make one detour, but if we leave now and drive through the night, we could be in Kansas by tomorrow morning.”
