by Kade, Teagan
I don’t know if this is where she’d go for sure, but it’s my best shot.
You should have left her a cell, I think, a way to reach you.
I skip around a mother walking a stroller and mutter an apology, bolting across the road in front of a blue sedan.
I’m surprised how off-kilter I am. There are plenty of chances for an adrenaline rush in the day-to-day of a lifeguard, but after a while you learn to suppress it. My stint in the Army helped. Nothing gets the blood pumping like bullets pinging into the wall beside you, the imminent threat of death, but it’s different out there in the water. It adds an extra element of unpredictability that can be addictive if you let it. That’s when it gets dangerous. That’s when you push yourself too far.
It’s what I feel now—that unpredictability and the flood of strong emotions that follows, plenty of which I know is because I’ve developed feelings for this girl. I saved her life and now I feel tied to it somehow, like it’s my job to safely guide her on.
But you want more, don’t you? my head intervenes. You want her.
There’s some truth to that, thrill in the chase, but again, I suppress it and try to rein my focus in to concentrate on the task at hand: Fucking finding her.
I’m almost at the bus station, the flow of peak hour pedestrians and traffic making things close to a nightmare. I round the final corner and clip someone’s shoulder, throwing my hand up in apology and stopping when I realize I’ve seen this individual before, at the tower with Robbie, the one who came asking if we’d seen anything the other day, the fucking dude with the teardrop tatt ripped right out of a comic book.
He sees me and slips away back into the flow of pedestrians.
I shake it off and continue to run on, moving as quick as I can for the bus stop we were at the other day. I remember pointing out to her exactly how it all worked, which number to take and how to navigate once you're in Miami proper.
I glance up and notice the security cameras dotted around the station, but they’ll be little use. It’s not like I can storm into the security office, flash my board shorts and expect an open book.
I circle the station once, twice, standing there with my hands on my head, grinding my teeth in frustration.
“Shit,” I grunt.
I’m about to move on when I spot a girl who looks like Winter exiting the women’s bathroom to the right.
Pushing people to the side, I try to get over there, but a procession of tourists cuts in front of me, walking around like garish zombies. By the time I get past them she’s gone again.
“Fuck!” I yell aloud.
“Archer?”
I spin around and there she is, my missing bag in her hand.
I rush forward and take her into my arms. “Winter. Jesus. What were you thinking?”
She pushes away from me. “I was thinking you went to that cop friend of yours when I explicitly told you not to.”
I’ve been concentrating so hard on finding her I hadn’t considered what I was going to say when I did.
I rub my chin, people swirling around us. This is far from the best place or time for this, but if I don’t say something now, she’ll walk.
“You’re right,” I tell her. “You’re completely right, but you’ve got to understand it wasn’t pre-orchestrated. We bumped into each other and got talking. I didn’t mention any details, didn’t tell him how I found you—none of that.”
I see her soften, but she’s still unconvinced. She drops the bag, speaking with her hands. “I still don’t know who to trust.”
I jab at myself, ignoring the curious looks of bystanders. “You can trust me. I promised you I’d keep you safe and I fucking well mean it.”
I take her hands. Again, they’re far more delicate than I expected, feathers in my fingers. “I. Will. Keep. You. Safe. Got it? I don’t know how I can make it any clearer.”
She nods quietly. “And you didn’t go to your friend deliberately?”
I place my hand on my heart. “On my mother’s life.”
She sighs and looks around but doesn’t let go of my hands. A tear runs down her face. “I just want to go home.”
I hang my head. “I don’t know where home is for you, but here, in Miami, I can give you one, for as long as you want. So, tell me, do you want to go home?”
She looks up at me with glassy eyes, nodding.
I smile and pick up the bag. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
CHAPTER TEN
WINTER
I collapse into his arms the moment the front door of the apartment closes. I can smell his dark mussed hair, hyper-aware of the hard warmth of his body against mine.
I know I’ll have to tell him soon what happened. He deserves to know the truth, but right now all I want to do is stay in his arms.
He’s breathing down my neck. It’s warm and ticklish, a strange mix of sensation pooling at the private space between my thighs.
I don’t know what I was thinking. I could have been taken out there… or worse.
I shiver and he holds me away from him.
“Are you cold?” he asks, ocean eyes all concern.
“No,” I reply simply.
It’s the best feeling in the world being held by him, supported by his strong arms and muscular frame, to take in the fresh, saltwater-and-surf wax scent of his body. I can hear music down below in the street. It provides a distant soundtrack, a pulsing beat to the music that’s already thrumming through my body.
I don’t know why, but I reach up to touch his face, fingers dancing on his jawline, his stubble ticklish where it passes beneath my skin.
His hand moves up to cover mine, pressing it against his face. It’s hot, smoother than I expected.
His voice is a deep rasp when he speaks. “Are you sure about this?”
My breath catches and I’m unable to reply, forced to nod instead because I know this is the moment. We both want this, need this.
We’re so close. His mouth has to be less than an inch from my own. It’s so inviting, his lips so soft…
I swallow hard, wait a second, and then he’s kissing me.
It starts firm, a press of lips to lips, his hand gliding over my lower back. It’s incredible, the sun breaking through storm clouds, light beaming out left, right, and center. His mouth moves over mine and I can’t hold back the new pleasure that spirals down my spine.
I bring my hands around his neck and deepen the kiss, allowing my tongue to slip past his lips and into the fruity cavern of his mouth. He groans at that—a small, delicate sound in strong juxtaposition to his bulky form. I gasp in turn, the kiss becoming more and more intense, his lips moving frantically against my own.
Our tongues tangle together, chests heaving as one. We press tighter and tighter until there’s no daylight between us, nothing to identify where Archer starts and I end.
I shift my hips slightly, ever aware of the growing bulge in his pants.
But this is more than a simple kiss. It feels right. What seemed fragmented and split before has been pieced together. In his arms, his mouth on mine, I am whole.
I have to break the kiss to breathe, drawing air deep and long into my lungs, my body buzzing.
He licks his lips, his mouth finding mine with fresh hunger.
My heart’s pounding against my rib cage, galloping along faster and faster. I want to feel this way forever. I never want it to end.
I break away again, locking eyes with him. “Take me to the bedroom,” I say.
He nods, scooping me up under the legs and carrying me swiftly towards the master bedroom.
The shutters are semi-open, a mesh crisscross of light spread across the room—an Escher drawing come to life. People are celebrating outside, but it’s nothing compared to the energy in this room.
He lets me down at the edge of the bed, pulling my skirt all the way up, bunching it around my waist while his mouth continues work over mine above.
One hand goes between my legs, rubbing me t
hrough the wet cotton of my panties. No man has ever touched me there before, the bold sensation that follows forces me to suck in a cold lungful of oxygen.
My body tenses, releases—a coil of need building.
He slips his hand down the front of my panties, the tip of his middle finger dipping into slick heat there and forcing an expulsion of sound from between my lips, new and alien.
I have to break away to breathe, leaning against his shoulder and muttering “Oh, God” over and over, a quiet prayer against this onslaught.
He stops when his finger comes up against my hymen.
He pulls back. “Holy shit. Are you…?”
I nod, embarrassed. “Is that okay?”
He smiles. “It’s perfect,” he whispers kissing me again, removing his hand.
He cradles me in his arms, lowering me down onto the bed and taking hold of my legs, dragging me to the edge of it.
My skirt bunches around my torso, my breath hitching again when he slowly brings my legs together, peeling my panties away. He unhooks them from my ankle and lets the warm ball fall to the floor.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my nerves getting the better of me when he begins to spread my thighs, kneeling there at the edge of his bed, his breath a hot apparition against my bare sex.
I’ve never let anyone look at me so intimately, shamed and embarrassed until I see that animal hunger in his eyes again, the way his body tenses drawing closer to my core.
“Arch—” but my words are caught when his mouth presses against me.
He starts slowly, kissing the insides of my thighs, holding me tight while I squirm and moan above in anticipation.
The tip of his tongue flickers over my clit and my eyes snap closed, spine bent towards the ceiling. I feel him all the way from my sex to the tight pillars of my nipples.
He sucks at my clit, his masterful tongue bringing me closer and closer to something I’ve never felt before only that I know it’s great and large and utterly terrifying.
I moan and rock my head from side to side, reaching out and finding him, slowly grinding against his face. His stubble brushes the bottom of my sex, his chin working there as he laps and licks, bringing me quicker towards the inevitable.
I’ve never had an orgasm, never come, but even so I know what’s about to happen, can feel the way my body flushes from head to toe, that tightness pulling inwards, tighter and tighter until there’s no going back.
He spreads me with his fingers and groans, dipping his tongue into the slick mouth of my sex.
I purr and moan aloud. I’m louder than I should be, unrestrained, but I don’t care. All I can think about is Archer—his lips, his tongue, the beautiful texture of it all against my wanton flesh.
He brings his attention back to my clit, strong hands spreading my thighs further, the sensation ratcheting up and up until I can almost see it there behind my eyelids, the end result, the ‘little death.’
Just when I’m about to crest over, my entire body tight as a piano wire, he pulls away and stands.
I sit up on my elbows breathing hard and labored, watch as he works at his belt and zipper, each movement quick and calculated, the animal hunger never leaving his eyes as he watches me, the aquamarine of them switching between my lips and the hot space below.
His cock comes free hard and long, far bigger than I remember from the other day. I’ve never really seen one up close before, appreciated the sleek look of the glans and shaft, the velveteen length of it all.
Archer moves to the drawers beside the bed. I hear a wrapper being undone and know he’s sheathing himself, returning to edge of the bed and pressing me back, climbing over me with his cock in hand and cool eyes above.
I take his face and press my lips to his, tighten further when I taste myself on them.
I gasp against his lips when he positions himself against me, spreading my legs wider so he slips in a fraction of an inch, poised there to take me.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I take in a deep breath and nod.
For a moment he stops and we stare at each other, spellbound.
The world passes between us.
Need.
Fear.
Desire.
I hold his gaze, hold it as he slowly sinks into me with a single, fluid push.
I yelp, eyelids fluttering closed momentarily as my virginity is taken.
He holds himself there, one hand moving to hold the side of my face. “Are you okay?” he asks, his concern in such contrast to what I expected.
“Yes,” I whisper, reaching for his hips. “Keep going.”
He draws back and rocks forward again, running deeper into my wetness.
I let out a faltering breath and grip him tighter, urge him on with my hips.
He starts moving and the pain begins to subside and give way to pleasure. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced, the shift from one to another, the pleasure building the more he moves, the more of his manhood that is swallowed up by my body.
He moves slowly at first, the urgency growing until I’m begging him to take me harder, deeper, rocking against his cock as it runs into me.
A fever builds between us, a waiting eruption simmering under the surface of my skin. I push my hips back and he thrusts forward hard, almost to the end of me, fresh moans coming from my mouth, my fingers dipping deep into his sides.
“Yes,” I moan, smiling against it all, “yes.”
He places a hand on my hips and pounds into me with abandon, fucking me hard and showing no remorse for it.
My body adjusts slowly, stretching to accommodate his cock, softening and reshaping itself around him.
I do my best to relax, to shift deep into a total and complete calm, but it’s useless.
He forges into me deeper and deeper. I can feel his cock twitching inside me, his own release imminent. I swivel my hips, lock my ankles against his back, a whole new slew of sensation following as his cock finds a new angle inside my aching pussy.
Embers of that coming firestorm fan into flame, rising higher and higher until he pulls back to the slackened mouth of my sex, holding himself there, teasing me until I beg him to continue, thrashing below.
He runs into me long, deeper than before, his shaft lightning, nerves set alight inside the hot channel of my sex. He brings his full weight against my body, driving me deep into the bed. It all merges in my periphery, the neon colors of the streets below, the ocean, the cut light of the apartment.
With every thrust his hard body presses against my clit. My focus shifts to that small spot of sensation and I know my first climax is imminent. I bring my hands up to his shoulders, bear against him with everything I have.
His neck drops, his lips against my ear. “Come,” he says.
I do, soaring higher and higher until there’s nowhere else to go. I scream, I think, and convulse, exploding with new pleasure that clutches my entire body, my sex gripping and releasing his beautiful cock in quick contractions, forcing his orgasm.
He stiffens against me, a long, guttural groan following as he thrusts one final time and finds his release.
His lips cover mine and our tongues meet. We laugh and smile, Archer collapsing sideways, his cock coming free to slap against the side of his leg.
He holds my thigh over him, the two of us staring up at the bands of light on the ceiling, the celebrations continuing outside.
He looks over.
“What’s this?” he asks, fingertips running over the brand on my shoulder, the one his friend mistakenly thought was a tattoo.
“Just something silly I did when I was a teenager,” I lie.
He studies it. “It looks familiar.”
I silence him with a kiss.
“That was my first orgasm, you know,” I tell him, changing the subject.
He plays with a long strand of my hair, looping it around my finger. “How do you know if you’ve never had one?” he queries, one eyebrow raised.
I can still
feel where he was inside me, the afterglow of his cock. “Female intuition, I suppose.”
“Well, you did. I felt it.”
“You did?”
“Sure. So fucking hot.”
Silence falls. I feel compelled to fill it.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” I ask cautiously. “I mean, I know you’ve had,” unable to find the right way to phrase this, “women… but has there been anyone special?”
He kisses my forehead. “Like you?”
“Come on,” I tease, walking my fingers over the tight tessellations of his abs. “Tell me. I want to know everything about you.”
He draws in a breath. “Actually, I was engaged once upon a time.”
I sit up a bit in surprise. “You were?”
“We met when I was working at this marina during college, had a whole future planned out together.”
“What happened?”
“I joined the Army and she cheated on me while I was on tour, screwed another guy while I was out,” using air-quotes, “‘fighting for freedom’.”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“It was a long time ago. I’ve moved on.”
But I can still see the echo of hurt sketched into his features. Whatever this woman did scarred him for life.
And I want to tear her eyes out.
He holds me tighter, pulling me into the warmth of his side. “It doesn’t matter, because now I have you. Who could want anything more?”
I smile, lay on his chest, but it fades when I think of the lies. Because breaking someone’s trust, especially someone who has been burned before, is like crumpling up a perfect piece of paper. You can smooth it over, but it’s never going to be the same again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ARCHER
You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you? You’ve fallen for her hard.
My head, usually the point of irrationality, is spot-on for once. How has this girl who washed up into my life suddenly taken it over? A girl who I still know so little about yet feel like I’ve known forever.
I had a process, a system of quick and dirty hookups that would leave me satisfied, albeit briefly, before the next. I was living the dream.