Archer~Ex-Bachelor_Ex-Club Romance

by Camilla Stevens

  Thankfully, I never catch sight of Simone again.

  Chapter Thirty

  …but now she’s here, pressed against me, and feels so damn perfect.

  I feel it coming faster now, taking over every part of me as I press into Simone. I feel her leg come up around me and my hand that isn’t still tangled in her hair slides down to glide across the satiny smooth skin of her thigh. I realize just how much I’ve been longing to feel her, taste her, kiss her, and hell yes, fuck her.

  By now the taste of whiskey is gone and it’s all her on my tongue. It only makes me hungry for more. I press in closer, feeling the soft give of her breasts against my hard chest.

  Suddenly, she pulls away but I follow her with a guttural growl of protest.

  “Not here,” she whispers. “Stuart…we—we can’t….”

  I don’t even bother responding. Instead, I pull myself off the couch, lifting her with me. Her eyes go wide with surprise, drawing me in with those dark brown pools. Then she gives in, her legs wrapping around my waist. She pulls my head closer, digging her nails into my hair and grazing across my scalp.

  The kiss is resumed as I blindly carry her to my bedroom, following the steps I’ve taken many a time before, but never so eagerly. The only sounds are the heavy gasps of air we manage to grab in between devouring one another.

  The contrast of the dark, sensuous atmosphere of my bedroom to the bright, family friendly decor of the rest of the house is like a switch for both of us, a switch that is flipped as soon as I quietly close the door behind me.

  Simone slides down my body and rips at my dress shirt, tearing it open. The five hundred dollars that has just been torn to shreds is lost in the feel of her fingertips burning like white hot fire against my chest. I rip the remnants off my shoulders and arms almost angrily, leaving me in nothing but my socks and pants.

  I bring both hands up, holding the sides of her face so that I can soak up the look, that for once isn’t filled with contempt or suspicion or taunting.

  “Tell me you want this,” I say. I don’t need the verbal reassurance, I can feel it radiating off her. I just want to see it in her eyes as she looks at me and says it.

  “I want this.”

  The heat and hunger come raging back and I crush my lips into hers, backing her toward the bed. We fall down into a heap, tangling our legs and bodies into each other.

  Now there’s laughter. The feel of her chest vibrating against mine reminds me that there’s so much more of her I have yet to explore. One hand creeps down that flimsy cotton of her tank top and crawls underneath the bottom, not stopping until one soft mound is firmly in its palm.

  “Mmm,” she murmurs, smiling against my lips. “That feels good.”

  I run my thumb over her hardened nipple and the smile evolves into a gasp of pleasure.

  “Stop,” she says, nibbling on my bottom lip. “You’re teasing. Let’s—”

  “No,” I whisper, taking her mouth again. “I’ve waited this long, I want to savor every moment.”

  My dick would happily oblige her. Hell, it would probably let me go fast and hard one time and then be ready for action ten minutes later to savor it all over again.

  But every other part of me wants this to last forever. I could drown in this moment, letting every thought that’s ever lingered at the back of my mind, however fleetingly, about the sister of the woman my brother married finally play out.

  I know why each visit to London was strictly business with Kevin. I couldn’t stand to see the similarities between Bette and the maid of honor who blazed like sunshine. The girl who left nothing but happiness and longing in her wake. The girl who was filled with so much carefree liveliness and warmth that it practically burst out of her. The girl whose light I had singlehandedly managed to dim with one stupid comment.

  It could have been you.

  Now I know why she plied herself with champagne at the rehearsal dinner. Now I know why she happily indulged the advances of that photographer’s assistant. Now I know why the anger consumed me when I caught them making out in that hidden spot of the terrace while everyone was dancing inside.

  It could have been you.

  “Hey,” she whispers, smiling as she brings one soft hand to my face. “Where are you?”

  I let the regrets drain from my mind and replace the void with the way she’s looking at me right now.

  “Right here,” I reply with a smile.

  “Good,” she whispers, her smile matching mine.

  “In fact…,” I continue. I shift my arm so it makes her tank top rise up past her waist. She takes the hint and brings her hands down to pull it up further, wriggling her body until it’s up over her head and she’s left just as topless as I am.

  The result is absolute perfection. I slide down the bed, covering her in kisses until I reach one soft mound, taking the puckered nipple in my mouth.

  “Archer,” she sighs, lifting her back. I slip my arm underneath the space left below her and pull her closer into me. I want to sink into every part of her, tasting her, smelling that fresh after-shower scent of whatever it is she uses to wash with.

  Having my feel of her breasts, I slide lower and lower, tickling her stomach with my mouth.

  “Archer!” she laughs, causing the taut skin to vibrate against my lips. The laughter stops when I nudge the edge of her shorts down with my chin. Already I can smell her heated scent that’s a sharp contrast to the innocent floral aroma covering the rest of her.

  With one quick tug, I have the shorts and the panties underneath down past her hips. I lift my head, taking in the view of that sweet promised land between her soft thighs.

  She looks down at me across the naked expanse of her body, smiling wickedly as she helps me take off the last stitch of clothing. I fling them away and slide off the bed, falling to my knees before her. My strong hands take one ankle and drag her to the edge until her sex is pressed against my face.

  I don’t bother teasing her with tender kisses and teasing licks. I want to hear her scream my name, filled with pleasure. Her clit is easy to find, already swollen and exposed. After one quick dart of my tongue, causing her to gasp, I suck it into my mouth. My tongue goes wild, like Morse code, tapping out the years of longing and lust I’ve bottled up inside of me.

  “Archer!” And there it is, my name on her lips.

  I want more.

  My tongue circles and flicks to some crazy rhythm that has no sound. My fingers come up to test the waters deep inside of her. She’s so fucking wet and tight that my dick is practically breaking through the zipper of my pants, eager for its turn to play.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” She screams, grabbing my hair, pressing her thighs against my face, digging her curled toes into my back.

  “Please,” she begs over and over. I keep going until the ‘please’ is urging me to stop rather than keep going.

  Oh no you don’t, Simone. I’m not even close to done with you yet.

  I pull away, licking the remnants of her juices from my lips. It’s the ultimate aphrodisiac.

  I pull myself up until I’m standing before her. She’s still recovering, her body shuddering with heavy pants, but the sight of me brings her around. She stares up at me with hunger in her eyes.

  “You sure you want this?” I say with a teasing smile.

  She just laughs and kicks my thigh with her foot. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now.”

  “Not even close,” I say quickly then I unbutton and unzip my slacks. I shove both my pants and my underwear down my legs, letting my dick spring to life.

  I keep my eyes focused on her, as I do my best to step out of them and shove my socks off as well. I know I must look ridiculous with my erection bobbing up and down as I try to strip, but her gaze tells me that the nine inches I’ve got to offer more than make up for it.

  “Jesus, Archer…” she murmurs with awe. “If I’d known you had that monster between your legs six years ago, I wouldn’t have….”


  “It seems we have a lot of catching up to do,” I interrupt. I don’t want any mention of that asshole from the wedding ruining this moment.

  She just gives me an impish smile, sliding back on the bed so her legs are no longer hanging off the edge.

  Now that I’m done dealing with the hassle of my clothing I walk over to the night stand and pull out one of the condoms from the stash I have handy there.

  “You’re certainly prepared,” she muses, eyeing me with a taunting smirk.

  “We could always try going for that baby,” I retort with a smirk of my own.

  Simone laughs, then reaches out a hand. “Let me. I don’t want you getting any silly ideas of poking holes in it.”

  That gets a chuckle out of me, but I hand it over anyway. The thought of those delicate hands sliding down my cock as she unrolls the condom is something I’m suddenly very much in favor of.

  She twists herself into a kneeling position which is just obsequious enough to get my already hard dick twitching just a little bit more. Instead of biting into the corner and ripping it open the way I usually do, she gracefully tears the edge open and plucks the round ring of rubber out of the casing. It’s like some performance and I have to strain to keep from covering the face that’s right at cock-level with my seed.

  “You should probably move a little bit faster,” I urge.

  She gives me a kittenish smile. “Don’t tell me you can’t hold out just a little bit longer.”

  Before I can respond she has it on the tip of my cock and uses long firm strokes to roll it down, causing me to exhale with frustration and excitement.

  “Woman…” I groan in a warning growl.

  When she’s done, I reach my hand under her chin, lifting it so she faces me.

  “Tell me you want this.”

  “More than ever, Archer.”

  That’s all I need to hear. I let go and she takes the cue, falling back on the bed and spreading wide for me.

  When I first brought her into my bedroom I wanted nothing more than to savor every second of this moment, drawing it out so that it lasts all night.

  Fuck all that.

  The subtle lift of her hips, tells me that my dear, sweet wife is of the same mind. I accommodate her, filling the space between her thighs and nudging my cock against her lips to fill her pussy.

  With one thrust, I’m deep inside as far as I can possibly go. It’s like sinking into heaven. She immediately clinches around my shaft, milking the first bit of pleasure out of me. I’m not that quick on the draw. Instead I hold back, pulling out of her only to sink back into her warmth again. One hand falls on my shoulder, gripping it harder and harder with each thrust.

  “Oh God, yes,” She moans, closing her eyes.

  “Don’t,” I order. “I want your eyes on me. I want you to see how much I want this too.”

  She smiles through the heavy breathing as her body rocks with mine. But her eyes stay open, hypnotizing me with that brown haze of lust. It builds and builds until I feel her body shift, taking me along with it. I ride the wave of her building orgasm and when it crashes, I sink into her letting her pulsating walls suck me dry.

  We stare at each other when it’s over before succumbing to laughter. I roll over to the side and stare up at the ceiling, enjoying the feel of her only inches away from me.

  “I suppose that was worth the six-year wait,” I tease.

  She pinches my arm, which makes us laugh again. “Jerk.”

  It’s an odd sensation, feeling so much lighthearted joy in the wake of release. Usually, I’m finding ways to finesse my partner’s departure from my apartment. The last thing in the world I want is for Simone to leave.

  When she curls into my side, digging her way into the crock of my arm and draping one leg over mine I finally know what it feels like to be home.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “So what’s the deal with the watch?”

  We’re both staring up at the ceiling, Simone’s head lying on my chest. She twists around onto her stomach to look at me. Her breasts press into my chest as she reaches over to lift my left arm up and inspect the vintage Rolex I’ve been wearing since I picked it up in London.

  “Why was this the only thing Kevin left to you?” she asks, still looking closely at it, wondering what is so special about it.

  I look at it and exhale a soft laugh. “This? It’s a long story, goes back pretty far.”

  Her fingers trace the wristband of the watch and come around to circle the face. I follow her pink nails, enjoying the slender, smooth contrast of her hand against the sharp cords and dark hair that cover my forearm.

  Her eyes slide down to mine and she gives me a playful smile. “I think we have at least a few more hours before Stuart wakes up. Unless that was your way of kicking me out of bed?”

  I smile back up at her. The last thing in the world I want is for her to go. “I guess I’d better spill then.”

  I roll my eyes up, remembering how it all began. “It was my granddad’s,” I say, still looking up at the ceiling. I feel one side of my mouth pull down as I continue. “My mother’s father. He liked to gamble, usually backroom stuff where the stakes were higher. He liked the thrill of it I suppose.”

  I twist my wrist to get a better look at the watch. “He won this in a game.”

  I pause before going on. Simone settles her chin on my chest and looks up at me, waiting for the rest of the story.

  “He used to encourage the same sort of competitiveness in Kevin and me.” I frown up at the ceiling, letting my hand settle on my stomach. “In fact, I can’t remember a time when he didn’t spur us on. Even when Kevin was in pre-school and I was already in elementary school, he’d offer up pieces of candy or a dollar bill to see who could run the fastest, jump the highest, or compete in any other thing he set his mind to.”

  “Hmm, that explains a lot.”

  I bring my gaze down to her with the frown still on my face. I’m about to ask her what she means by that but we both already know. Instead I shrug with acknowledgement.

  “You probably have a point,” I say. “In the beginning, when I was too young to know any better, I loved how easy it was to win. I suppose it did something to me, getting off on being the best.”

  I lift my hand again to look at the watch. “This came about when I was about ten or eleven. Kevin was only eight. This time it was a card game. Hearts? Gin? I don’t even remember. It wouldn’t have been poker, our mother drew that line early on.

  “My granddad, pulled this off his wrist and threw it right down on the table between us offering it up as a prize. Naturally, that upped the stakes between Kevin and me. It was like we weren’t even brothers at that point.”

  Even though I can’t remember the finer details about that day, what we were playing, or wearing, or even our exact ages, I do remember the fierce animosity I felt toward Kevin during the game…and the bitter resentment when he won.

  “Kevin won, which was still a rare thing in those days, and I—I was so angry.” I can actually feel the tension in my muscles as I remember throwing my cards at him, Granddad laughing at it all before handing Kevin the watch. I leave that part out.

  “I didn’t talk to him for days until finally one day he knocked on my bedroom door. When I refused to answer, he simply opened it and, without a word, left it on my dresser and walked out.”

  I swallow as I stare up at the ceiling, not wanting to see the disappointment and disgust that might be written all over Simone’s face. I was only a boy at the time, but now more than ever it haunts me how I reacted that day.

  “Of course, I gave it back to him, purely out of spite. Nothing so noble as honor for Archer Bennett,” I say with a rueful grin, still toward the ceiling. “In the end, he was the one to come up with the truce—naturally. We simply traded it off every year, switching out on the same day he won it, October tenth. This was his year to have it.”

  And now it’s mine.

  I’ve spent more time than I
care to think about wondering why Kevin left this to me in his will instead of Stuart. I’ve psychoanalyzed it from every angle and in the end all I can think is that he felt that I rightfully deserved it upon his death. Even if he was the one to win it fair and square all those years ago.

  “He was a good guy,” her voice whispers.

  I quickly bring my attention to Simone for the first time since starting this story. Her eyes are calm and soothing, completely without judgement. A smile grows on her face and it’s like butter melting on toast, comforting and…mouthwatering.

  “You knew him that well, did you?” I ask with a smile.

  “Yeah, kind of. I mean enough to think of him as something more than just Bette’s husband.”

  Her eyes roll slightly up and to the side as her smile fades into a small grin. “Like this one time I managed to make it to London. I think Stuart was only three at the time? Anyway, both he and Bette had some kind of awful bug, so Kevin offered to play tour guide with me. Before then we were friendly I suppose but not very close, certainly not as close as I was with my sister. Anyway, he took the whole day off work just for me—”

  “He took an entire day off?” I interrupt, unable to stop myself.

  “And yet, the company managed to survive,” she says, pinching my nipple.

  “Ouch!” I growl, flinching. Then settle back into the bed. “Sorry, old habits.”

  She just rolls her eyes, but not without a smile. “Anyway, he was taking me here and there and then out of the blue he breaks out into this posh British accent.” She starts giggling “I mean it was, like, really over the top.”

  She stiffens against me and her face molds into a snooty pout. “‘I dare say, old girl’ and ‘that’s an exceedingly brilliant idea’, and so on and so forth.” She laughs before continuing, and I joining her. “I don’t think they had lived there long enough to entirely pick up on the lingo so he was pulling most of it out of his ass. He didn’t even care that everyone was looking at him like he’d lost his mind.”

  She settles down, her chin on my chest again with a smile above it. “I guess we both lucked out when it comes to siblings.”