by Jayne Rylon
Just like that, her amusement evaporated. “Not your business.”
“I feel like an idiot out here.” He tried to pry the door open from the outside. It only cracked more. “Would you please let me in? If you don’t feel safe alone with me, then maybe could I have a few minutes of your time somewhere public? It’s just that…I think you’d rather not have anyone overhear what I’d like to tell you.”
Waverly dropped her clothes and picked up one of the other items inside her suitcase instead. Without warning or hesitation, she spread her legs, raised her arms, and aimed her pistol slightly off from his face. Enough to scare him, but not actually on target. Besides, he didn’t have to know it was unloaded at the moment. “I can take care of myself these days. Why don’t you start talking?”
“Jesus Christ!” He ducked behind the ruined door, as if that would stop a bullet when it hadn’t been able to handle the impact of his fist. “Waverly, chill out. I’ll stay in the hall. I just thought you deserved to know what happened that night, okay?”
That made her pause.
It had eaten at her, not knowing all those years.
And he didn’t have to enlighten her. Hell, he hadn’t had to confess to being her attacker either.
There it was. The thing that had been bugging her all morning.
Why had he done that?
Guilty conscience? Maybe, but if so, spilling his guts obviously hadn’t worked because here he was, looking as distraught as he had when he’d confessed to her.
“Waverly?” he asked again, probably expecting her to turn him into Swiss cheese any second.
Instead, she crossed the room, straightened the door as best she could, then yanked the handle.
It was a teensy bit fun to see him jerk in surprise. Evil, yet satisfying.
“You’re responsible for getting this fixed. It’s not going on my bill.” She shook her head at him as she wandered back to the rumpled bed and plopped down, placing the gun within easy reach on the nightstand. It might not have any ammo in it, but she could always hit him with it, if it came to that.
“I’m good for it.” He shrugged. “I told Banks to give my money to charities, but he keeps finding ways to squirrel away emergency funds here or there for me and forgetting to mention it until later.”
“He’s a good man.”
“The best.” He nodded.
Since you’ve officially lost the crown, she added mentally.
“So…you want to kick me out of a chopper at five thousand feet above shark-infested waters or something?” He cursed then. “I don’t blame you, honestly. But you should know that I hate myself enough for both of us because of what I did to you.”
“Nah. The US military doesn’t condone torture, Archer. I’d take you out quickly.”
“Are you actually cracking a joke right now?” He groaned, “Waverly—”
“Stop. Get to what you came here to say. I don’t have a lot of patience left.” She rubbed her shirt between her fingers, nervous as fuck that he might be about to impart knowledge more deadly than her pistol.
He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. When he opened them again, he went straight to the point. “My father drugged you with some designer libido-enhancing substance. I didn’t know. You showed up at my door and morphed into a fantasy come to life. Telling me you wanted to get with me, and that you were legal now. All I could think was how beautiful you were, how untamed under all your shyness. I was kind of drunk, though I’m not saying I shouldn’t have realized something was off. I—”
He swallowed hard, his eyes turning glassy.
A flash of memory blazed to the front of her mind. She grabbed her skull and folded in half, putting her head between her knees. Her dreams. They weren’t dreams at all.
It had happened like that.
“Waverly!” he shouted then ran to her, dropping to his knees at her feet. His hands reached for her, but he stopped before making contact.
Would he be so considerate of her boundaries if he was some kind of sexual predator?
She might have wondered more about that if his explanation hadn’t unlocked something subliminal. It was like trying to watch TV when the signal was nearly non-existent. All she could make out was the faintest of images through the static. “We fucked on your entryway floor.”
“Yeah. Then the stairs. And a few other places as I tried to get us to my bedroom.” He rested his forehead on her knee then.
Automatically, her fingers sank into his hair, soothing him, though the gesture also brought her comfort.
He kept going, describing the whole night, in detail, painting a picture of everything she’d missed that matched the glimpses she’d gotten while sleeping. She hadn’t said a peep about them, so there was no way he could have lied and yet described everything she had recalled—not knowing that’s what she’d done.
Things were finally beginning to make sense.
When he got to the end of his story, he cringed. “I didn’t know what I was doing to you, that you weren’t yourself. Until you slipped into unconsciousness.”
“You took me to the hospital.”
“Of course! You almost died in my arms!” He lifted his face toward hers then, his eyes bloodshot.
This time her heart found an entirely new way to break.
For them both.
Because it was painfully obvious what had happened. Like a lightning strike, the pieces of the puzzle he’d given her aligned, lighting up her world in an instant. “Archer, your father used you. To hurt my father. It was ruthless revenge. You and I, we were both pawns. Well, maybe weapons is a better way to put it.”
“I know. I realized that after you told me about what had happened between them.” He groaned. “All that time, I had no clue.”
“That means, Archer, that you were violated as surely as I was.”
He froze. “Huh?”
“They made you do something against your will. Worse, something that violated the core of who you are. I’ve had years of counseling to help me cope with what happened. You haven’t been able to come to terms with it at all, have you?” When he didn’t respond, she reached out and cupped his cheek, brushing away the single drop of moisture trailing down the strong bones. “I can’t imagine what that’s done to you. Or how you’ve survived.”
“You…you don’t hate me?”
“I hate your father. And mine.”
“That makes two of us,” he snarled.
“It’s going to take me a while to think all of this through. Rewrite history again in my mind. But how could I blame you, Archer? I can’t. Not after what you’ve shared, the tiny bits I can remember, and what my gut is telling me. You know what’s pissing me off more than anything right now?”
“Hopefully, not me for once.” He smiled faintly at her.
“No. Well, not really.” She shook her head and he frowned. “I mean, it’s that not only did they use us, but they also stole my memories of my first time. Something I’d looked forward to sharing with you for a really long time. Was it awesome?”
“Right up until I realized you were in some kind of coma, barely breathing.” He looked like he might break more shit then.
“But before that…”
“It was incredible. You were incredible.” Archer brushed his thumb over her lower lip and she couldn’t help but suck it into her mouth and nip the pad before he withdrew.
“That fucker made me believe some fiend took my virginity, when I’d hoped to give it to you all along. They erased the knowledge that it was you I shared that night with and replaced it with horror. Bone-deep terror. That I might have been exposed to diseases. Violated by someone I’d never consent to a relationship with. They spoiled my joy and made me afraid of something that probably was magnificent. That’s what’s making me furious.” Waverly’s hands shook and she got more fired up by the second. “I hate what they did to you. And that they ruined any chance the two of us had of getting together.”
Archer changed
before her eyes. His grief took on a bitter edge. Then pure fury hardened his features. “You’re right. They robbed us of that, too. All these years we spent apart, it hasn’t changed the chemistry between us. We might have been happy together. Had a family. Made a life. And now we’ll never know if we could have.”
Another thing she would mourn forever.
Waverly put her hands on his shoulders, then skimmed down his arms until she clasped his hands in hers. He squeezed in return, giving her the courage to say, “We can’t go back. But maybe sometime you’ll give me an instant replay of what I missed?”
“You’d want that?” Undiluted sexiness. That’s the only way she could think of to describe the look he shot her then. His eyes blazed and his lips parted. His pupils dilated as he leaned closer.
“Uh huh.” She nodded.
“I need to hear you say it. Clearly, Waverly. No mix-ups this time.”
“I would love to finally know what it feels like to have you inside me, Archer. Where you’ve always belonged.” Well, there was no going back from a statement like that.
Except he didn’t say anything. Didn’t even seem to breathe.
The stress of the week hit her then, sapping the last of her strength and energy. She thought longingly of the Divemaster and his circular bed, surrounded by all those windows. A place of light, and beauty, and safety.
And food.
Courses and courses of gourmet chow.
She cleared her throat, but he was still staring at her with that powerful gaze, processing her statement.
“Can we go now?” The sooner they left here, the sooner they’d be back there.
They could stay locked up there for the next week, fooling around, sleeping, making up for lost time, and gorging on desserts prepared by the pastry chef she’d been standing next to at their staff meeting, which seemed like a lifetime ago.
It sounded like heaven to her right then.
“Nope. We’re staying a little while longer.” He launched to his feet, then crossed to the door in two long strides. Without straining, he grabbed the dresser next to the entrance and heaved it in front of the broken wood, propping it into place while barricading them inside.
Then he strode back toward her, whipping his T-shirt over his head as he did.
Waverly’s heart somersaulted in her chest. “Does that mean you’ll show me what I missed? Give me that, at least.”
“Hmm…” He wiggled his brows. “Yes. I think I will. If you’ll agree to come back to your job as soon as we’re finished with this demonstration.”
“Done.” She shoved out her hand.
He shook it, but didn’t let go.
The warmth of his palm on hers had her melting already.
Archer used their connection to tug her up and into his arms, nuzzling the side of her face as he whispered, “I hope you know I’m only teasing if you decide you don’t want the position anymore. I’d do anything to make this up to you. To set it right, as best I can. Making love to you would be an honor. One I don’t deserve. Except I’m not a good enough man to turn you down.”
“Then let’s do this.”
Fourteen
Waverly wasn’t about to wait for Archer to change his mind.
Or for her to lose her nerve.
She wrapped her arms around him, stroking the exposed skin of his back as if she were petting some powerful animal. It probably would bum him out if she admitted she was imagining something along the lines of the jaguars prowling through the jungles surrounding them rather than one of his beloved sea creatures.
Although he did seem to have something in common with a swordfish at the moment. Maybe she’d share her nickname with him some other time. One not so incredibly crucial for them both. Laughing now would probably bruise his ego. The fact that she could even loosen up enough to have thoughts like those amazed her.
And reinforced her belief that this was absolutely the right thing to do.
The two of them had always meshed. Had fun together. Been attracted to each other from the first moment she’d been capable of experiencing those feelings for another human being. It had been him she measured other men against. And they’d always disappointed. Not their fault. He was just…special.
Archer surprised her, seeming to be caught in the same current she was. Instead of ridding her of her clothes immediately, he cradled her against his chest for a minute, swaying in time to some slow music only he could hear while he stroked her hair, and then kissed the top of her head. She felt cherished and protected.
Two things that only turned her on more.
“Kiss me,” she murmured against his collarbone. “Like you used to.”
“How about if I do it better than back then?”
“I’d like to see you try.” She grinned, or would have if he hadn’t curled an index finger below her chin, tipped her face toward his, then descended, fusing his mouth to hers.
Softly at first, with tiny sips that left her room to suck in breath between them. Quickly, though, their tenderness morphed into something more urgent. He cupped the back of her neck and held her in place so that he could situate his mouth to allow it to fit tighter to hers. His tongue fluttered over the seam of her lips and she opened to him.
One of his hands dropped to her ass, pulling her flat against his body so she couldn’t ignore how turned on he truly was. His cock impressed her—thick and long between them.
“Is that okay?” he paused to ask.
“No,” she gasped.
He froze.
“More,” she demanded, tired of waiting for the real thing. “Take your time later. Right now I want it like you said it was. Wild. Frantic. Desperate.”
Because that’s how she felt knowing she was about to have something she’d dreamed of for as long as she could remember.
“I’m not normally a slow-and-steady-missionary kind of lover. Though sweet sex doesn’t sound half bad when I’m thinking of doing it with you.” He balked. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for all of me to come out and play right now?”
“Absolutely.” She smiled then went onto her tiptoes for one final sweet taste of him. “I want you for who you are, Archer. Not for who you think I need you to be.”
He nodded at her as he evaluated her sincerity close up.
Then he walked until the backs of her knees hit the bed. He kept advancing, pressing her backward until she bounced onto the mattress and he followed her down.
That’s when clothes started flying—his shorts, her shirt. Archer toed off his sneakers, letting them drop to the floor, followed by his socks. Finally, she wormed out of her pajama pants.
Good thing she hadn’t bothered to put on a bra or panties yet today.
Saved time.
“You’re even more beautiful now,” he rasped before he sampled her exposed body. First a lick on her collarbone, then a suck on one breast, followed by a pet between her legs. It was as if he didn’t know where to start first.
She could understand. Because while he lit up nerve endings all over her body with his random introductory touches, she was studying his body.
Yes, she’d seen nearly all of it the other day.
But it was different to observe him in motion, hovering over her, about to devour her.
Of all the things it made her feel to watch his power, grace, and strength, frightened was not one of them. Not even close.
Waverly returned the favor, groping every inch of him she could reach, wanting to catalog it in case she never got this lucky again. It was frenetic. Fevered. And honest.
When Archer rose, she took the opportunity to surge forward and crash their mouths together for another round of making out. This was no clandestine peck, though. Nothing like the innocent kisses they’d shared as teenagers.
It seared her from the inside out.
He groaned into her mouth and dropped lower, squashing her in the best of ways. She spread her thighs so his hips could rest between them. The rest was magic.
&nb
sp; His erection aligned with her center.
A swing of his hips had the tip of his cock prodding her entrance. It was as if he was knocking so she would admit him.
“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, his head tipping back to expose the tendons in his neck. She couldn’t resist taking a love bite out of one. Until she registered his regret and the slight shift of his lower body.
Away from hers.
Fuck that.
She arched up to maintain contact, though it wasn’t as steady a pressure as she needed.
“Waverly. Wait,” he commanded between gritted teeth. “I don’t have protection. Definitely didn’t expect our conversation to go like this.”
Oh. Well, at least he’d thought of it. All her common sense had flown out the window around the time he took his shirt off. There was no way she was stopping short of the goal here. “Banks made each of the crew members get a full physical workup. I’m clean. And on birth control.”
“I’m clean, too.”
She nodded. “Then why are we wasting time talking?”
“Seriously, you trust me?”
“Would I be letting you fuck me in the first place if I didn’t?” She gave him a pass since there was some serious diversion of blood flow from his brain to his cock at the moment.
He gave her a curt nod. “Right.”
Then he didn’t waste another moment. He took his erection in hand and rubbed it over her mound, making her moan and writhe. Especially when he used the fat head to separate her pussy lips and rode the furrow up until he prodded her clit a few times for good measure.
He went one step beyond when he grasped his shaft then slapped his dick on her pussy, the vibrations making her mewl and forget about attempting to say anything coherent. Even more thrilling was the way it made her feel…owned.
“Inside. Now.” She planted her hands on his hips, loving the flex of his ass beneath her fingers, which rested on the upper swells of his tight muscles. Using her grip on his slim waist, she drew him closer, taking initiative in driving his cock within her the barest bit.
