Page 8

8

ARCHER

T he fire crackles loudly, pouring off heat, and it’s not long before the main room is toasty warm. I can’t stop thinking about unzipping Carlotta’s dress and how soft her skin felt against my knuckles. The temptation to do more was almost my undoing. But, I held it together and didn’t rip the dress off like I so desperately wanted to do.

She is Miceli’s baby sister, I remind myself sternly. For fuck’s sake, the man would have my balls ripped off and shoved down my throat for doing half the things that have gone through my mind. Dirty things that would make her scream in pleasure and end with us both coming so damn hard.

No! Forget about it.

Christ, I’m starting to sweat it’s so damn hot in here already. Tossing my suit jacket, I yank my tie off, unbutton my sleeves and roll them up, exposing the crossed arrows inked on my left forearm. My ghost ops team all got the same tattoo. It’s where our nicknames came from—there was Arrow, Bow, Fletch, Bolt, Pierce and me, Archer. Our team’s name was Sagittarius and we specialized in killing the enemy silently. As if we were a bow and arrow, we’d slice through the night, find our target and take them down swiftly.

Those days seem so long ago and I miss those guys. But after we parted ways, they met women, started families and began truly living their lives. While I, on the other hand, stayed in the shadows.

“It’s so warm.”

I glance up and see the object of my lusty desire walk back into the living room. She carefully lays her dress over a chair and now wears my T-shirt and jogging pants. And, fuck me, she barely looks twenty years old. The makeup is gone, all washed away, and she’s so fresh-faced and exuding such a beautiful youthfulness, it makes my chest and groin tighten simultaneously.

“Too warm?” I ask, forcing my attention to the fire now raging. Just like my out of control hormones. “I can take a log off.”

“No, it feels wonderful. I’m just surprised how quickly it warmed up.”

She moves closer and I swallow hard. My body is already reacting to her, wanting her, and this isn’t good. But, she’s utterly stunning and I’m just a man. One who hasn’t had sex in a while. It’s a combustible situation and I feel like the fire and she’s hot, dry tinder. And, goddamn, I want to light her up in every possible way.

Clamping my jaw, I grind my teeth together and try to ignore the growing heaviness in my pants. “I’m sure you’re tired,” I force out. “The bed is up in the loft. So…goodnight.”

I know it’s a brush-off, but I’m not sure how much more I can take. So, yes, please go up there so I can disappear into the bathroom and jerk off. But, instead of heading up to the loft, she moves closer to me. Her sweet candy scent infiltrates my senses and I curl my hands into fists.

“Archer,” she says softly, shyly, “I don’t mind if you join me.”

What? My eyes lock onto hers and she’s right in front of me now, her gaze drifting down my body like a caress, and it’s almost more than I can take. I’m remembering how her lips tasted, how eagerly she kissed me back when I had her up on that conference room table. How good it felt to grind against her wet panties then sink my fingers in her hot, slick pussy.

On the verge of overheating, I throw all common sense out the window, grab her wrist and yank her against my hard, desperate body. My mouth crashes into hers, needy and demanding, and I force my tongue past her lips. She’s so damn eager, her tongue meeting and dueling with mine, pushing up onto her toes and giving as good as she’s getting. Of course, her excitement gets me even more revved up and I walk her backwards toward the couch.

I can’t think straight when it comes to this woman. At least my brain can’t and it lets my dick take over. Big mistake, but I’m a goner, lost in sensation. It’s crazy, and before I can comprehend what’s happening, I have her down on the couch and I lower myself on top of her, kissing her sweet mouth as though my very life depended on it. Kissing my Queen of Hearts into sweet, fucking oblivion.

Deepening the kiss, I feel her wrap her legs around my waist, drawing me right where she wants me. Slowly, seductively, she rubs her hot center against my hard dick and I groan into her mouth.

“You’re driving me crazy,” I growl, thrusting against her needy pussy, unable to forget how wet she got for me earlier. So tight, so drenched, so responsive.

“I wasn’t sure you liked me,” she murmurs, circling her hips harder and breathing faster.

I lift my head so I can look down at her, look right into her pretty brown eyes. And I hate the doubt I see there. “Are you kidding me?” I rasp. “I wanted to fuck you since the moment I laid eyes on you at the dessert table.”

She blinks, mouth opening slightly, as though not quite sure she heard me right. “Really?”

“Sweetheart, I want you so badly it hurts,” I admit.

“Then take me,” she says, arching beneath me, offering herself up.

The reality of our situation makes me stop the descent of my hand which was headed down to cup one of her luscious breasts. I’ve been entrusted to care for her and protect her, not take advantage of her. It feels like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head and I force myself to pull back. To rein my lust in and get myself in check. Everything in me rebels, but I know I don’t have a choice in the matter.

Carlotta Rossi isn’t mine to take and even though I’d like nothing more than to enjoy this sweet body of hers, I can’t.

“Fuck,” I hiss and pull away. I’m not sure where this sudden crisis of conscience is coming from. Or, maybe it’s just the uncomfortable thought of Miceli killing me. I roll off her, stand up and rake a frustrated hand through my hair.

“Archer?”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I do the only thing I can—push her away. “Go to bed, Carlotta.”

I hear her sit up, but I don’t dare turn around with the massive erection I’m sporting.

“Did I…do something wrong?” she asks, voice laced in doubt.

I hate how timid she sounds now and I mentally berate myself. “I need to text your brother. Go up to the loft. Now,” I grit out far more harshly than I intend.

I hear her scramble up off the couch and see her head up the steps from the corner of my eye. Battling my lust and loyalty, I turn and stalk into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. Throwing my clothes off, I turn the shower on, step beneath the falling water and grasp my stiff cock.

Yeah, it would’ve been much better finding relief inside Carlotta’s soft, willing body, but that would be crossing a line that I’m not yet willing to cross. Realistically, I can’t say I won’t eventually. Never say never, right? Right now, however, I’m going to keep my distance, relieve this ache then let Miceli know we’re safe.

Well, I’m not sure how safe Carlotta is from my dirty thoughts but, for the moment, no one is going to hurt her. I’ll make damn sure of that. Not on my watch.

Standing beneath the spray, I pump my steel length until I erupt, shooting thick ropes of semen against the tiled wall. Groaning through my release, I drop my head against the cool tile and wonder how much longer I can avoid fucking Carlotta. She’s far too tempting.

Sure, I was a gentleman tonight. Well, as much of a gentleman as I can be. I restrained myself from taking what she freely offered. But if she does it again, I’m not going to be able to say no.

And here’s the thing. I don’t do relationships after what happened with Caitlin. So where does that leave me and Carlotta? It leaves us in one-night stand territory. Or two nights, more than likely…and that’s not something that can happen. Well, it can, but it shouldn’t. If I have one shred of decency left, I should respect Miceli’s baby sister, right?

I’m not a good guy, though. Never have been, never will be. And that puts me in quite the predicament.

After finding a semblance of relief, I get out of the shower, towel off and pull on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. Although I much rather sleep in my boxer briefs or nothing at all, I put the bottoms on because the last thing I want is to run into Carlotta and be naked. That wouldn’t end well.

Technically, it would end up with us probably having sex on the floor. Or up against the wall. Or, maybe on the table.

“Christ,” I hiss and shove a hand through my wet hair. Why the hell did I tell Miceli I could bring Carlotta up here and keep her safe for a few days? Because the truth is, she isn’t safe with me. Not at all.

Despite that fact, I wander back into the living and look up to the loft. It’s dark and quiet, so I assume she’s in bed. My bed. And she’s leaving her cotton candy scent all over my sheets. Fucking torture.

Yeah, it’s really important that I stay down here where I can’t touch her or smell her or reach for her.

Grabbing my phone, I pull up Miceli’s name and shoot off a short text, letting him know we’re here and we’re safe. He really doesn’t need to know I’m a second away from seducing his little sister.

After I hit send, I set my phone on the coffee table and stretch out on the couch. My legs hang over the edge, but it’s not too uncomfortable. It’s so warm right here in front of the fireplace that I don’t even need the blanket laying on the back of the couch. Besides, I’m still too hot for Carlotta.

With one hand tucked behind my head and the other resting on my chest, I think over the last few hours. Damn, I wish my Queen of Hearts hadn’t turned out to be a Rossi. It’s not that I’m scared of them or anything, but Miceli and his brothers and I have a relationship that I don’t want to screw up. Because if I screwed Carlotta, everything would go to hell fast.

And I wouldn’t blame them for getting pissed at me.

I know I can be a dick and when it’s time to be ruthless, I have no problem doing it. But, as a general rule, I don’t like to lead women on or hurt them. The simple truth is I tried a relationship once and it ended in more than just disaster. It ended in her dying.

Who I am, what I do…it’s fucking dangerous. Always has been. So the best thing I can do is stay far away from Carlotta Rossi. It’s going to be hard, but it’s for the best. When I hook up with a woman, she needs to understand all I can give of myself is one night. It’ll be a damn good time, but I’m not going to hang around for anything long term. I always make that crystal clear and certain women also enjoy that kind of relationship. One where pleasure is exchanged and then we both go on our merry way.

But Carlotta is a whole different breed of woman. She’s a lady and deserves to be treated as such.

With a curse, I punch a fist into my pillow, turn onto my side then lay my head back down and stare into the flames. I wish things could be different, but they aren’t. Except…

There’s one scenario that might make me change my mind about sleeping with Carlotta. If she would agree to only one night and she fully understood the rules and ramifications then things might be different. I’d need us both to be on exactly the same page and have the same expectations. Plus, we’d need to keep it a secret.

One glorious night of fucking each other’s brains out. Then we go our separate ways once we return to the city.

I suppose it’s possible, but I’m certainly not going to suggest a one-night stand no matter how epic I know it would be. However, if she brings it up and agrees to my stipulations then there’s no way in hell I’d be able to resist.

Ball’s in her court, I think, my eyes growing heavy, the crackling fire lulling me to sleep.

And the asshole part of me is really hoping she tries to seduce me again.