Monica Murphy

by Crave

  I’m in a total no-win situation with Ivy and I know it. Yet here I am, her naked body in my arms, her lips leaning in close to mine, her breasts coming into contact with my chest . . .

  “Hey.” I squeeze her hips, my fingers pressing into her flesh, and she glances up at me, her eyes wide, her lips damp. As if she’d just licked them. Fuck, everything she does unravels me. But I need to know where we stand—where she stands. I can’t risk making this a bigger mess than it already is. “What are we doing here?”

  A perfectly arched brow lifts. “Do I need to explain it to you?”

  “You know what I mean.” I’m not taking this any further until I’m assured we’re both on the same page. “What do you want out of this?”

  Ivy reaches out and starts unbuttoning my shirt, her fingertips brushing against my chest with every button she slides out of its hole. “One night of mind-blowing sex?”

  I ignore the one-night comment for a moment, absorbing her words. I shouldn’t want more. I never want more.

  With Ivy, I think I could.

  Well, isn’t that fucking terrifying?

  “And that’s it.” My voice is flat, though I suck in a harsh breath when her fingers brush my stomach with that final button she undoes before tugging my tucked-in shirt from the waistband of my pants. “That’s all you want from me.”

  “Isn’t that all you want from anyone?” Her gaze locks on my chest and she exhales loudly. “I knew you were bigger than the last time I saw you, Archer, but oh my God.”

  I smile, loving the way she’s looking at me. Like she wants to eat me up. “And when was the last time you saw me without a shirt on?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugs, her gaze lifting to meet mine. Her eyes are full of hunger, full of want, and I reach out, settle my hand on her cheek, and caress her soft skin. It’s like I can’t resist touching her. “When we were teenagers?”

  “Well, I’ve changed a lot since then.” Leaning down, my mouth is at her ear when I murmur, “So have you.”

  She slides her hands up my chest, her touch causing sparks to ignite along my skin as she pushes my shirt from my shoulders. I shrug out of it, settling my hands back at her waist, pulling away a bit so I can drink her in.

  Jesus, she’s gorgeous. I’m hard as a rock just looking at her and I start to back her toward the bed, pushing gently at her shoulders so she falls onto the mattress with a little huff of annoyance. Her long hair falls around her shoulders in tousled waves, the ends barely covering her breasts, tempting me to rake my fingers through the silky strands. Without warning she hooks her finger through the belt loop of my pants, pulling me forward and tipping me off balance so I fall onto the bed.

  Fall onto her.

  “Now I have you where I want you,” she murmurs just before she lifts her head and kisses me deep, her tongue immediately sliding against mine. She skims her hands down my back so lightly I shiver.

  Damn, her touch feels good. She feels good beneath me, her hands on me, her legs winding around my hips. I still have my pants on but I can feel her. My erection nudges against her heated sex and she tilts her hips, grinding against me as she devours my mouth.

  She’s turned into a wildcat, rubbing against me, her mouth on mine like she wants to consume me and I willingly fall under her spell. Let her take completely over, as I’m lost to her delicious taste, the way her tiny hands are all over me, at the front of my pants. Undoing the snap, sliding the zipper down until she’s reaching inside and stroking my cotton-covered cock.

  “Wow, Archer, you’re packing,” she murmurs after breaking our kiss, her fingers curling around my erection and giving me an agonizing squeeze.

  I burst out laughing at her comment. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

  “Oh yeah.” She slides her hands around my hips, pushing my pants down until they bunch up about mid-thigh. “Take these off. Take everything off.”

  “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” I whisper against her mouth just before I swipe at her plump lower lip with my tongue.

  “I never act like this,” she says when I climb off her to shed the rest of my clothes. Her greedy gaze never leaves me. “I think it’s all your fault.”

  “My fault?” Her admission shocks me. How can she blame me for her crazy behavior? “How so?”

  “It’s you or the champagne I drank earlier.” Her gaze drops to crotch level and she’s checking me out, her eyes widening the slightest bit once I shed my boxer briefs. “Um, wow.”

  “Scared?” I rejoin her on the bed, grabbing her by the waist and hauling her over until she’s lying beneath me. “You should be,” I whisper before I kiss her. Devour her. It grows wild in an instant, my hands roaming her skin, mapping her curves, her hands just as busy as mine, diving straight for my cock. I’ll blow if she keeps touching me like that, and I’m not about to go that route, so I grasp hold of her wrists and pull her arms up above her head. Holding her captive and she wiggles against me, making little noises full of frustration.

  Driving me fucking insane.

  She breaks the kiss first, glaring at me as she jerks her hands against my grip. “I want to touch you.”

  “You keep on touching me and I’m going to explode all over your fingers,” I growl.

  Ivy laughs, arching against me so her breasts brush my chest. I can literally feel the hard points of her nipples press into my skin.

  This woman is going to kill me. I just know it.

  Chapter Five

  * * *

  Ivy

  ARCHER BANCROFT HAS a body like no other man I’ve been with before, let alone seen live and in person, up close and in my face. All solid mass and smooth skin, defined muscles and broad chest and shoulders. He’s all I can see and hear and smell and taste while he lies on top of me, his long fingers curled around my wrists, holding my arms captive above my head.

  What we’re doing is so completely unexpected, so unbelievably exciting, my entire body is shaking in anticipation. He’s kissing me like he’s a starving man and I’m the only thing he craves. I can feel his erection nudging between my legs, and I’m so wet for him it’s almost embarrassing.

  But I don’t care. I’m drunk on the sensation of his body pressing into mine, his hungry mouth, his insistent tongue, those big, rough hands pinning me to the bed.

  I had no idea being held down would arouse me so much, but oh my God, I’m so hot for him I feel like I’m going to burst.

  “Promise not to go straight for my dick?” he whispers in my ear after breaking our kiss.

  I want to laugh. I also want to moan. His blunt words turn me on too. “Maybe I really want to go straight for your dick.”

  His eyes lock with mine. They’re dark and full of smoldering heat. “I already told you what might happen if you did that.”

  Oh yes, he sure did. I might want to witness that too. In fact, the idea is amazingly hot. Me stroking him, Archer losing all control and coming all over my fingers . . .

  Restlessly I rub my legs against his, and he chuckles as if he can read my mind. “Promise me you won’t make a grab.”

  “I can’t promise you that,” I whisper.

  “Then let me touch you.” His voice lowers as his fingers loosen gently around my wrists. Until they’re slipping away and he’s nuzzling my neck with his face, his hands skimming along my sides. “I want to explore you.”

  I’m not going to protest. That’s exactly what I want him to do. So instead of making a grab for his dick—as he so kindly says—I sling my arms around his neck, my hands in his hair, gently guiding him down as he rains kisses across my collarbone, my chest, the tops of my breasts, the valley between my breasts . . .

  He’s teasing me. My nipples ache for his mouth to wrap around them and his lips are everywhere but my nipples. I don’t know if I can stand this exquisite torture, his hands gripping my hips, his mouth all over my sensitive skin. I tighten my hold on his hair, tugging hard until he mutters a curse word against my flesh before he
licks one nipple.

  Then he licks the other.

  The ragged moan that escapes me is nothing like the usual sounds I make in bed, and I clamp my lips shut, momentarily embarrassed. But then he does it again, his velvety damp tongue flicking back and forth over my nipple, driving me absolutely wild. Another shuddery moan leaves me, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, holding him to me as he licks and sucks and edges his teeth on my flesh, gently nipping. Testing me.

  It feels so good I want more. Oh God, I’m crazed with wanting his teeth on me, his hands all over me. “Harder,” I whisper, my request shocking myself and he bites my nipple, hard.

  Between my legs I go loose and damp and when he glides his fingers through my soaked folds, his thumb sweeping over my clit, I shake my head frantically. “No, not like this. Please.”

  “Want me inside you?” He whispers the heated words against my breasts, and I crack open my eyes to find him watching me. His gaze is dark, full of forbidden promise, and I nod, a whimper falling from my lips. His answering smile is deliciously wicked. “Good. Because I can’t fucking wait to be inside you.”

  No man has ever talked to me like this. I love it. I want more. So much more . . .

  Moving up, he leans over me, his chest in my face as he reaches for the bedside table and pulls open the tiny drawer. He withdraws a condom from inside, and I’m momentarily stunned.

  Though I shouldn’t be. Everyone knows how Archer operates.

  Pushing the worry from my head, I lean up on my elbows and press my mouth to the center of his chest. His scent surrounds me, the warmth of his skin, his salty taste. I’m licking a path down to his abs and he pulls away from me, hissing as if I’ve burned him.

  “You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, tearing open the wrapper and rolling on the condom. The sight of him entrances me and my heart rate accelerates, my mouth going dry when he catches me staring. He shakes his head with a slight smile curving his perfect, swollen lips. “I want to take my time but I doubt I’ll make it, Ivy. I want you too damn much.”

  Again, he stuns me, this time with his words. If I think about it too hard, the entire situation is mind blowing. I’m naked with Archer Bancroft. We’re about to have sex. If someone told me a month ago—heck, a few hours ago—that I would end this night having sex with Archer, I would’ve laughed in their face.

  I’m not laughing now, though. More like I’m grabbing for Archer, bringing him down on top of me, his big body pushing me into the mattress. I wrap my legs around his hips, curl my arms around him so I can stroke down his smooth, damp-with-sweat back as our mouths find each other, lazily kissing, nipping at each other’s lips, tangling our tongues.

  He tastes amazing. I love the sounds he makes, the way he holds me. And when he slowly slides inside my body, inch by excruciating inch, a shudder sweeps over me, my eyes shutting against the intensity of emotions swirling within. He doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as breathe, and I’m breathless too. I’ve never felt so connected to another person before.

  It’s frightening. Exhilarating.

  “Christ, you feel so good,” he whispers close to my ear as he slowly begins to move. I shift with him, lifting my hips, tightening my legs around him. He’s thrusting faster, almost as if he can’t help himself, and I’m fine with it. More than fine with it. I rock against him, sending his cock deeper inside my body, and he’s groaning, straining above me, already close. I can see it in the tension in his face, across his shoulders.

  He warned me it would be fast but I don’t care. I’m close too. I’ve been on edge since he made me come on the terrace. There’d been no relief with that orgasm. More like it ratcheted me up, helping me realize what I was missing, not being with him like this.

  “Say you’re going to come,” he whispers, his ragged voice sending a shiver over my skin. “Say it.” He reaches between us, his fingers slipping over my clit, rubbing circles around it, driving me straight out of my mind.

  “Yes,” I moan. “So close.”

  Archer rears up on his knees and grasps hold of my waist, pulling me closer as he pounds into me. I watch, breathless at the brutal way he’s handling me, truly fucking me, and I wonder if any man I’ve ever been with has done this. Fucked me like Archer is at this very moment.

  That would be a firm no.

  The men of my past always handled me gently, as if I were made of glass and might shatter at any moment. Not Archer. He’s all macho, primal fierceness, his hands gripping me, his cock pounding inside of me, his mouth brutalizing mine. It’s as if he’s completely overcome.

  I love it.

  Closing my eyes, the familiar sensations threaten to wash over me, and I try to hold them off. Whimpering, I shake my head, pant his name and then I can’t hold back any longer.

  I’m coming. Lost in the deliciously warm pulsating sensation as the second orgasm of the night takes me completely over the edge.

  He collapses on top of me seconds later, his warm weight comforting, yet making it all feel far too real. His mouth presses to my neck, wet and hot as he whispers unintelligible words. I smooth my fingers down his back, feel the shivers still trembling through him, and I kiss his cheek, murmuring, “You should probably go soon.” I wince the moment the words leave my mouth. I really don’t want him to leave.

  But he needs to. If he lingers . . . I might want him to stick around. Then I might do something stupid. Like admit how much I care for him, how much I wish he were a permanent part of my life.

  Yeah. He’d flip out and run like a scared little boy if I ever said something like that.

  Lifting up so he can meet my gaze, he studies me, his brows furrowed, his mouth curved in a frown. “What?”

  Uh oh. Did I say the wrong thing? Come on, Archer isn’t one who lingers in a woman’s bed, is he? “You um, you should probably go, don’t you think? I don’t want my brother to see you sneak out of my room.”

  “He’s probably asleep. That guy sleeps like the dead.” Archer’s studying me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “Yeah, but . . .” He’s right I’m sure. I don’t want to risk the chance. Besides, I need time alone. I need to process what just happened between us.

  “So you’re kicking me out.” He sounds incredulous, looks angry.

  “No . . .”

  “Yes,” he cuts me off, his voice tight. “I get it, though. Don’t want Gage to find out. I agree with you, actually. He’ll hang me by my balls from a tree, and I happen to like my balls, thank you very much.”

  He climbs out of bed, snatching his clothes off the floor impatiently, giving me an unintended eyeful of those very balls he happens to like so much.

  Crap, I’ve made him mad. I didn’t mean to but I can’t have him lingering. It’s bad enough what we just did. I don’t do one-night stands, especially with guys I know and run the risk of seeing again. Worse, I don’t want to get attached. Or put expectations on us that this sort of thing might happen again.

  Because no way should it happen again. That would be a big mistake. Huge. No more fooling around for Archer and me.

  Even though I want to. I hate that I’m pushing him away. His reaction is confusing. He acts like he’s hurt by my denial.

  I’m hurt too. More than I would ever dare admit. Deep down inside, I think . . . I want more. For once, I’m ready to take that risk and go for it. Do something so completely out of character just to see what would happen.

  “You still want to see Hush later today?” he asks, his voice quiet, his back to me. He has on his underwear, nothing else, and I let my gaze wander over him, drinking in all that pure masculine beauty.

  He is beautiful. I wish we had more time. I’d explore every inch of his skin with my mouth, given the chance.

  Your chances with Archer just expired.

  “Yes,” I answer after I clear my throat. “I would love to see Hush.” We can handle a mistaken sexual encounter between friends, right? Of course we can . . .

  “Great. Well, it’s been real,” he sa
ys after he slips on his pants, still sounding sort of huffy, and I watch him go without saying another word. He quietly shuts the door behind him.

  I flop against the pillows and rest my arm over my eyes, groaning out loud. What the heck is wrong with me? I had amazing sex with a man I’ve known almost half my life, and then I push him out like he’s some sort of stranger I secretly banged.

  I can’t help it. I start laughing.

  My life has turned completely surreal.

  Archer

  DAMN, COULD I feel any cheaper?

  I’m skulking down the hall of my very own home, shirtless and shoeless, my clothes and shoes clutched in my hand, my pants unbuttoned, for the love of God, and ready to fall from my hips. My footsteps are light as I’m literally sprinting across my house. If Gage came out at this very moment, he would take one look at me and know exactly what I’d just done.

  His baby sister.

  Grimacing, I shake my head and head toward my bedroom suite, which is on the other side of the house. I’m breathing a little easier now that I’m out of the guest wing, but I could still get caught. That I’m even thinking like this makes me feel like an absolute jackass.

  This is my house. I’m twenty-fucking-eight years old. I shouldn’t have to sneak around like some sort of teenager out screwing around with my secret girlfriend.

  But here I am. Sneaking.

  I’m still shocked over how Ivy kicked me out of bed before the come dried on her skin; she was that ruthless about the entire encounter. Crude, I know, but true. I’d been ready to wax poetic and go on and on over how amazing that entire experience had been. Because as quick as I’d come—embarrassingly quick, I’ll admit, but damn I was overwhelmed with the fact that I was actually inside her—sex with Ivy had been mind blowing.

  I wanted to tell her how much I wanted to do it again. Clutch her close and cuddle for Christ’s sake. I don’t fucking cuddle. I’m the one who kicks them out of my bed. I’m the one who says, Hey, it’s been real, but you need to get your pretty little ass out of here.

  Always, I sleep alone. For once, I wanted to sleep with someone else. Really and truly sleep. Hold her close, feel her skin on mine, smell her. I can still smell her. Feel her. Taste her.