Page 87 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House

‘No more,’ she gasped, grabbing his forearm. She couldn’t take any more. It was too much. She’d never in her life of quick hook-ups and frantic, festival fucking felt like this during sex. It was like she’d spent her entire sexual life playing in the minor leagues and she just got called up to the majors. And she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

He stopped, his hand sliding from between her legs.

‘Okay, sweetheart. No more,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘You did so good.’ Heat coursed through her already overwrought body. And there were those damn tears again. What was wrong with her today?

He was still inside her and it suddenly felt very important that he feel half as good as she did right now. She pushed back against him, taking him deeper and he groaned.

‘Iris, you said you were done. I can take care of it…’

‘No.’ She clenched around him, eliciting another cracked moan from his lips. ‘I saidIwas done. It’s your turn. I want you to come, Archer. Please.’ She sounded desperate and half crazy, and maybe she was. Maybe she’d finally lost it, but her body was still humming with everything he’d done to her, and she wanted him to feel it, too. She wanted him to feel good.

‘It’s not going to take much,’ he said, thrusting into her again. Pleasure immediately started to build again with each shallow thrust, and as his breathing increased so did hers. She could feel his heartbeat racing against her back and when he came, gasping and moaning into her hair, she came again too, fast and hard and perfect.

They lay there, melded together, limbs tangled, and Iris could feel every bit of blood flowing through her body, every fast thump of her heart. Eventually, Archer pulled out and Iris rolled to her back, she was sweaty and sticky and she couldn’t stop smiling. Archer kissed the shoulder that was peeking out of his T-shirt. She’d never taken it off.

‘You okay?’ he asked.

‘Mmm-hmm,’ she murmured. ‘You?’

He was looking down at her now, propped on an elbow, and there was something warm and tender and dangerous in his expression. And all the reasons this was a bad idea came flooding back in. She was going to hurt him and that little girl.

‘I’m good,’ he said with a soft smile, the one that poked that tender place in her own heart and Iris knew she was in so much trouble. ‘Want another shower?’ And Iris was so thankful in that moment that he was offering a practical thing to focus on instead of the crazy feelings swirling around inside her.

‘Yes, definitely.’

She got up and let Archer pull the T-shirt over her head, let him get in the shower with her, let him shampoo her hair, scrubbing those magic fingers over her scalp. She let him help her out and wrap her in a fuzzy towel and escort her back to bed. She let him tuck her in and wrap his body around hers again.

But she didn’t let herself think about any of it.

About what it meant.

About why she liked it so much.

About what she was going to do next.

* * *

It was morning and a bright spring sunshine was streaming through the windows and Iris was still in his bed. And this time she was here on purpose.

She was snoring lightly, her hair spread across his pillows. Archer’s heart constricted at the sight of her. He liked this girl. A lot. And last night had been incredible.

But she’d been honest with him. She wasn’t sure she wanted anything beyond the physical. So he was just going to have to be content with that for the moment.

Iris was still naked from last night, soft and warm next to him. It wouldn’t be that hard to keep things purely physical. It should be ideal, actually. Archer ignored the voice in his head claiming that it wasn’t ideal at all. That voice needed to calm down. Iris wasn’t a Michelin star, she wasn’t a head-chef position, she wasn’t an immaculate kitchen. He couldn’t just set his mind to this goal and achieve it. All he could do was be here and hope she chose him.

But, in the meantime…

He kissed her and she stirred in her sleep.

‘Iris,’ he whispered. ‘Wake up.’

She frowned, a little crease forming between her eyebrows, but didn’t open her eyes. ‘Why? Don’t you have the day off?’

‘I do. But I need your consent before I go down on you.’

Her frown flipped into a slow grin.

‘Okay, I’m awake. I consent.’ Her eyes were still closed, but he’d take it.