I need him inside me, now. I need us to be joined as one again. Together in the most intimate way. I’ve needed it for a year — every minute of every day since we parted last summer. Every second since he walked out of my life and left me a hollow shell.
“Archer,” I beg, winding my legs around his hips. My hands slide across the broad planes of his back, where muscles ripple. “Make love to me. Please.”
We both cry out as he pushes inside me. I tense. It’s a tight fit — for a moment, I brace myself for the initial pain I felt the first time we did this. But the pain never comes. Instead, a wave of pleasure sweeps through me — a ripple of need that builds and builds with each thrust, cresting into a tsunami that sweeps through my entire body. A relentless tide.
“There are no words for what you make me feel, Josephine.” He grunts out the statement, each word timed to another thrust. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”
“Archer!” I cry, lost in a current of rapture.
“Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I gasp. He’s so deep, it’s making me delirious. “I’ve always been yours.” My fingertips dig into his shoulders. “And you’re mine.”
“Damn right, baby.” His tongue strokes mine, a brutal kiss that steals my breath. “I’m yours. Now. Then. Always.”
Our mouths connect and, this time, refuse to break apart. There are no more words to exchange, no more thoughts to share. We are beyond that, now. I can only cling to him as he fucks me harder, deeper, his hips moving faster and faster. Driving me beyond the point of logical thought, to a place of pure sensation.
Him.
Me.
Our spot.
Skin on skin.
Heart to heart.
Our hands lock together, flat on the floorboards above my head. Our gazes are magnets, never shifting as we both ride the wave all the way down to the depths.
Drowning in one another.
Never wanting to resurface.
I cry out his name as the orgasm shatters through me, sending me crashing. And I hear mine on his lips, an exultant shout of release, as he spills his passion into me with desperate pumps.
I love this man.
Beyond thought.
Beyond sense.
Beyond reason.
And as I hold him close, breathing hard from the efforts of our lovemaking, my head still awhirl with aftershocks of desire, I only have one thought.
He is mine, surely as I am his.
I will never let him go.
After, we lay in the darkness — a tangle of naked limbs sprawled across the wool blanket. Dawn is breaking in the distance, the first rays of the day lightening the horizon. We do not move. We stay exactly as we are, breathing each other in. Savoring the moment.
“Sleep,” he murmurs, kissing the crown of my head. “You must be tired.”
“I… I’m scared to fall asleep.”
“Why?”
“The last time we did this…” I press my eyes closed at the memory of prom night. The ache in my heart when I awoke that day alone. “You were gone.”
His arms tighten around me, holding me firmly against his chest. His mouth presses harder against my hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Jo. I’m not going anywhere ever again.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” His body shudders beneath me as he inhales. “And I’m sorry. You’ll never know how sorry I am, about that day. If I could take that memory away, I would. If I could go back and change things…”
I tilt my head to catch his eyes. “I know. And you don’t have to be sorry. I forgive you.”
His lips brush mine gently — a kiss so sweet and so soft, tears fill my eyes. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”
We’re quiet for a few moments. I trace patterns on the bare skin of his chest, mimicking the carved letters on the wall.
AR + JV
4EVA
He chuckles sleepily, his lips curved in amusement. “That’s right. 4EVA. Forever. Knew it even back then.”
I snuggle closer. If I could burrow under his skin and disappear, I would do it. I appease myself with listening to his heartbeat instead, each steady thump a reminder that he’s really here. Holding me. Loving me.
Mine.
“Archer?”
“Mmm?” He sounds drowsy. His eyes are closed.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“You said Jaxon is on the run…”
“Mmm.”
“And you came here because…”
“He knows I betrayed him,” he murmurs. His voice is thick with sleep, teetering on the edge of consciousness. “He’ll lash out at me however he can.”
“Right…” My mind turns over the details, trying to make sense of this unexpected turn of events. “But… why would he come here, of all places? If he was hunting you down, wouldn’t he go to your apartment? Or your boat?”
“Because he knows…” He pauses carefully. His eyes sliver open, staring up at the rafter ceiling. When he speaks, it’s with such quiet conviction, such stalwart purpose, there’s no denying the truth in his words. “I love you, Jo. More than anything. He could trash my apartment, he could sink my boat. I’d recover. But if he ever hurt you, I wouldn’t survive it. If he took you from me…” His arms are so tight around me, I can barely breathe.
I don’t care. I hug him back, just as hard.
“I don’t want to live in a world without you, Josephine Valentine. Even when we weren’t together… the only thing that kept me going was the thought of you out there somewhere, lighting up the room — lighting up the damn world — with your smile.” His chest expands and contracts, a rattling breath. “Even when I’d lost everything else… you were my reason to carry on. To keep breathing. To keep hoping that, someday, things might get better. I meant it when I said you were my dream. My hope. My whole heart.”
For a moment, I can’t say anything at all. A tear drips down my cheek — I watch it pool on his skin. I trail my fingertip through it, tracing the shape of a heart. My voice comes out thick with emotion as I lay my head against his ribcage and close my eyes.
“Archer?”
“Yeah, Jo?”
“I love you too.”
THIRTY-SIX
archer
The smell of smoke wakes me.
My eyes snap open. It takes a few seconds to shake off my confusion; to remember where I am. The naked girl in my arms is a pretty big clue. We’re in our spot in the old stone boathouse, bodies curled together beneath a scratchy wool blanket. I smile at the memory of last night.
The smile flattens as another wave of smoke — astringent and bitter on the wind — hits my nostrils. Something is burning. Something far bigger than a beach bonfire or a backyard BBQ grill. The smell is so strong, for a terrifying heartbeat I think it might be up here with us, in the wooden rafters. When I look out over the water, I see a massive black plume drifting across the cove, noxious and roiling against the pale morning sky.
“Jo,” I murmur, shaking her gently. “Jo!”