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Fall For Me Page 7
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“What do you mean?”
“In most states, your parents have to consent to you having your license. It took me six months to earn it back. I never did that again. Hell, I was afraid to speed after that.”
“Do you speed now? Because I’m usually driving at least five miles an hour over the limit,” I offered.
Archer rolled his eyes. “Maybe about that much, but that’s it.” I giggled. “And what's the craziest thing you did?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I don't know. I guess fighting fires is pretty crazy.”
“Is it?” Archer pressed.
“I mean, it's definitely risky. There's an adrenaline rush to the job, and we jump out of helicopters and airplanes into the wilderness.”
“I bet you're good at it,” he said confidently.
“Why do you say that?”
I really wanted to know his answer. Not to stroke my ego but I was curious to understand how he saw me.
“Because you were always a bit of a daredevil when we were kids. Whenever we did something crazy, you did it first. Like the cliff diving at that river.”
I laughed, recalling the river where we’d gone to a few times to dive in from the rocky ledge above. “Oh, yeah? You called me the test case.”
“Exactly. You've got nerve. I can't imagine you getting rattled about much of anything. Do you like your crew?”
“I do. It’s a solid group. It's nice not to be the only woman at the station.”
“How many women are hotshots?”
“Three, including me. You met Paisley, and you probably remember Susannah Gilmore.” At his nod, I continued, “She’s on the town crew, and she’s married to Ward, who’s a superintendent for another crew.”
“I bet you intimidate the guys on your crew,” Archer said with a dip of his chin. He lifted his beer to take a swallow, and my eyes snagged on the motion of his throat.
Gah! I could go gaga over this guy's throat. Jesus, I needed to get a grip.
“Phoebe?” he prompted.
Whipping my eyes up to his, I hoped he couldn’t tell I was salivating over his throat. I could smell him from here. We were only sitting a foot or so apart, and he had this kind of clean, crisp, ocean-y sent to him. I scrambled to try to remember what he had said. “Oh, you think? I don’t think they’re intimidated by me.”
“I do,” he argued.
I shrugged. “Actually, Russell used to be intimidated by Paisley.”
“I haven't connected all the dots, but aren't Russell and Paisley together?” I nodded. “So why was Russell intimidated by her?”
“Because he had a crush on her, which is exactly why none of the guys are intimidated by me.”
Archer gave me a long look, his eyes darkening to charcoal. I swallowed, trying to ignore the heat spinning through me.
“I like my job, but I definitely won't be there forever. Physically, it's hard. The pay is decent but not amazing.”
He nodded. I could tell he wanted to say something about money, so I couldn't help but prompt, “Go ahead. Say it.”
“Say what?” He took another swallow of his beer, distracting me again with his throat.
When he set the bottle down, I lifted my chin and narrowed my eyes. “You know what. You wanted to remind me again that I don't need to worry about money.”
“Well, you don't, Phoebe. You're doing me a big favor.”
I opened my mouth to say he was doing the same for me, but I held back. Initially, I'd been feeling petty, and I’d wanted to get back at my friend. Even though I was over my ex, I didn't mind making him squirm. But I didn't have that feeling anymore.
I shrugged lightly, not about to divulge any of my emotional confusion to Archer. “Hey, it's all about saving the environment. You know how they talk about ripples and things?” He nodded. “It'll be a good ripple in the world to close that mine for good.”
His chuckle was low and husky and made my insides feel funny.
“We'll save a few salmon runs while we're at it,” I offered.
This time, he threw his head back with a deep laugh. “I'm all about making sure the salmon can spawn. Maybe we should have a salmon-themed wedding?”
I burst out laughing, and he laughed along with me. By the time we sputtered out, we were both gasping for air and swiping tears from our eyes. There was nothing like a good belly laugh, and I'd forgotten how often I shared those with Archer. You tend to laugh more like that when you’re young, but we’d also had that kind of friendship. Apparently, we still did.
As we stared at each other, something shimmered to life between us. Perhaps it had been there all along. Certainly, the attraction, but this wasn’t any old attraction. It was fiery hot, sparking like electricity and heating the space around us. I could hear the rush of blood in my ears. My entire body was combusting, and I couldn't think. Of all the men I'd have guessed could make me forget myself, I would never have thought it could be Archer. Never.
Gulping in air, I knew my cheeks were flushed because I was hot all over. I lifted my wine glass, rolling it between my palms. For the life of me, I couldn't look away from his gaze. Thank god I wasn't standing. I was certain my knees would’ve given way, and he would’ve had to catch me to keep me from falling.
I cleared my throat and meant to say something. Anything sensible would’ve done the trick. Instead, I whispered, “Archer.” Even to my ears, it sounded like a plea.
He gave my hand a little tug. “Come here, Phoebe.”
I was practically hypnotized as I slipped my hips off the stool. On wobbly knees, I took two steps until I stood between his.
He lifted a hand, his fingers sliding through the ends of my hair just over my shoulder. I felt his knuckles brushing along my collarbone and underneath my jaw. My pulse was racing so fast, I almost felt as if I couldn't be contained in my own body. Sensations zinged around inside, colliding and creating more and more heat and electricity.
Apparently, all I could say was his name. “Archer,” I whispered again.
I watched as he lowered his head, his silver-smoke gaze on mine. I let out something like a whimper the second his lips brushed over mine. I swear, sparks flew in the air between us.
I whispered his name into his mouth. Our kiss went from that subtle, almost testing point of contact to hot, deep, and wild. His hand slid to cup my nape, and I moaned shamelessly. He adjusted the angle of my head and fit his mouth over mine, taking full command of our kiss.
I didn't know if what I was doing was considered surrender, but that's what it felt like. I simply surrendered to the sensations, to the need, to the pure, fierce want roaring inside me. It felt as if a dam had broken loose. My need was a river, rushing and sweeping me in its current, and my only choice was to let it carry me away. Anything else was impossible.
Chapter Thirteen
Archer
Phoebe moaned into our kiss. Every sound she made sent a sizzle of lightning through my body. Holy hell. She tasted so good—sweet with hints of plummy wine on her tongue.
This being our third kiss, I discovered something about her. Each one started with her slightly tense. Then the second she let go, it felt as if something snapped loose inside her. She threw herself into kisses with abandon once that happened. The stiffness eased from her as her body softened against mine. With one hand half-tangled in her hair, I slid my other down her back, gliding over the sweet dip of her waist and the lush curve of her bottom.
Satisfaction sizzled through me when she let out another moan as I rocked my arousal into the cradle of her hips as I drew her closer to me. I was hard. Fuck, so hard. She probably felt like she was being prodded by a hot tire iron.
This wasn't supposed to be complicated. It was, and it wasn't. If I didn't let my thoughts get in the way, nothing was difficult with Phoebe. Everything felt good with her, including losing myself in the warm sweetness of her mouth, savoring the way her tongue teased against mine. The feel of her hand slipping under my shirt was cool against my warm skin.
I meant to control this encounter, to keep it from spiraling out of my reach, but that was nearly impossible.
We were here alone with no convenient interruptions. One kiss tumbled into the next, and I breathed her in, absorbing the imprint of her curves against my body. I slid my palm up, letting it slip under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was silky soft, and she trembled slightly when I broke free from her mouth. Pressing hot, open kisses along her jaw and neck, I savored the feel of goose bumps rising on her skin.
“Archer!” She gasped when I let my palm graze over her breast.
Her nipple was a tight bead under the silk of her bra. “Hmm?” I murmured against her throat, just over the wild beat of her pulse.
Her reply was a whimper, followed by a moan. She arched her back, pressing into my touch. I cupped her breast fully. The weight of it was heavy and fit perfectly in my palm. I was feeling greedy and nipped her neck when I flicked the clasp loose between her breasts.
She breathed, “Yes, yes,” when I rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
It wasn't enough. I leaned back, just enough to tug her shirt up. She gave me an assist, reaching for the collar and bringing it up over her head in an arching swoop to one side, where it tumbled to the floor in a rush of air.
We stared at each other for a moment, and I simply absorbed her. Her honeyed locks were in a messy tousle around her shoulders. Her skin was flushed everywhere, a pretty pink. Her lips were kiss-bitten, and her eyes were deep pools of blue. Her breath came in sharp little pants, and her breasts rose and fell with each gasp.
“You’re beautiful,” I rasped, meaning it in more ways than one.
Objectively speaking, she was beautiful. To me, she was fucking stunning. If I'd been standing, I would’ve fallen to my knees in worship. But it wasn't just that. It was Phoebe. My friend, the girl I knew so well. Certain friends came along in life where the connection was just easy. You knew each other in a way that others didn't, and the trust ran like a river, so deep that the supply was endless.
And now, to have all of that and have this blazing-hot chemistry striking lightning bolts into the air around us, everything became extra.
Her lips parted on a breath, and I dipped my head again because I had to taste her. I leaned down and captured one of her dusky pink nipples with my mouth. She cried out, her fingers spearing in my hair as I swirled my tongue around it. My teeth grazed over it with a light nip before I lifted my head. I transferred my attention to her other nipple. “Wouldn't want to leave anything out,” I murmured when I lifted my head again.
Her lips were parted for a beat, and then we were kissing again, and I lost myself in her mouth as I took deep sips. I couldn't get enough. Mapping her with my hands, I learned every inch of her and savored the way she flexed under my touch. I quickly discovered she was sensitive just above her collarbone and shivered all over every time I touched her there.
I finally couldn't hold back anymore and let my palm coast down over the sweet curve of her belly, unbuttoning her jeans swiftly and sliding my hand inside to find her silk panties drenched. She let out an inarticulate sound in her throat, her hips rocking into my touch.
Then it became messy and fumbling with very little finesse. I needed to feel her. I hooked my fingers under the edge of her panties to caress her silky folds, her arousal slicking my fingers. I dipped into her core, finding her clit swollen and needy.
I watched through heavy lids as her hips bucked against me. Her orgasm came fast, her pussy clenching around my fingers. I pressed over her clit and watched when her eyes flew open, and her whole body shuddered as she cried my name sharply.
I kept one arm wrapped tightly around her waist as the trembling slowed, pressing kisses on her neck.
Chapter Fourteen
Phoebe
I was nearly melted against Archer and dragged my eyes open when I felt his touch withdraw. His eyes were on me as he lifted his fingers and licked them. Right in front of me! If he hadn't been holding me, I would’ve collapsed.
Another aftershock rippled through me when he did that. I had no idea how long we stood there as pleasure reverberated through my body. I felt profoundly sated on a bone-deep level I'd never experienced. Adrenaline was racing through my body in circles. I saw the same sense of wonderment and near shock in Archer’s eyes.
“You’re cold,” he murmured.
His hands curved over my shoulders and down my arms, and I felt the goose bumps under his touch. I was shirtless with my jeans unbuttoned and shoved halfway down my hips. I felt in utter disarray.
Archer was still fully clothed. I was abruptly bashful, leaning over to scoop my shirt off the floor. When I straightened, he caught me by the shoulders again. “Hey,” he said softly.
My cheeks were hot and not just from desire.
“You don’t need to panic.”
“I'm not panicking,” I lied.
“I might be,” he said flatly.
A hysterical laugh bubbled out of my throat as his arms slid around my waist. I let my forehead fall to his chest and took several deep breaths, trying to marshal my composure.
This was Archer, and just as I knew him well, he knew me so very well. There was no sense in trying to hide. Lifting my head, I brushed my hair off my shoulders as I clutched my shirt with my other hand.
“I don't know how to play this cool,” I whispered.
“I don't either. So maybe we don't try. That's not what we're about anyway.” His lips curled in a slow smile, and my heart flipped in my chest as butterflies spun in my belly.
A few minutes later, I had my shirt on and my jeans buttoned. I still couldn't play it cool, but at least I was dressed and felt a little more like myself. To be clear, it wasn’t as if I hadn't felt like myself with Archer, but rather a wild, wanton, out-of-control version of myself.
“So where are you staying?” I asked. “Are you at your house yet?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Where have you been staying?” I prompted.
“A hotel in Anchorage. Janet offered me the place across the hall from you, but she said it wasn't furnished because she was redoing it.”
“You can stay here.” I heard myself offering before I could think better of it.
What the hell are you thinking? I immediately chastised myself.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Heat flared hot and fast in my cheeks, but I managed to nod. “It seems silly for you to drive all the way to Anchorage every night and come back. Do you know when the furnishing situation will be dealt with at your house?”
“Sometime next week.”
“Oh.”
“Oh,” Archer repeated, his eyes glinting with a slight smile. “Good timing, I figure. We can move in once they take care of a few basics.”
I took a shuddering breath, and his hand reached across the counter to curl over mine where it rested. The moment he touched me, I felt both soothed and lit by a fire.
“Don't panic,” he repeated.
I let out a shaky laugh. “It seemed so easy before you kissed me. Maybe it's more than we thought.”
“And maybe that's a good thing.”
When my eyes widened, he repeated, “Don't panic.”
“Is your stuff at the hotel in Anchorage?” If I focused on the practical, maybe I could get a grip inside.
He shook his head. “I just keep it in my car. Between the work Amelia and Lucy are doing to get the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen being updated and the furniture people bringing things in, I’m checking in every day. So, I’m never sure if I’ll be there or here.”
“Here?” My voice squeaked.
“Not here at your apartment, but here in Willow Brook. I wasn't banking on you inviting me to stay with you.”
My heart got the best of me, its loud demand rising above the din of anxiety and uncertainty clamoring in my mind. “Just stay here.” A nervous giggle escaped.
Archer’s gaze darkened. “Can we make a deal?
” he asked.
“Um, sure?”
“Let's save sex for our wedding night.”
My mouth fell open as I stared at him. “Seriously? It's not like I'm a virgin, Archer. And I'm pretty sure you're not either.”
He shook his head slowly, his lips quirking at the corners. “No, but I don't know. It's a way to keep something special.”
“Do you think we can live together without that happening?” Since I’d already lost myself with him, I figured I might as well be blunt.
He shrugged. “Maybe. It's taking all I have not to pick you up and carry you into your bedroom right now to finish what we started.”
My breath drew in sharply, and my heart lunged like the patter of hooves on hard ground, striking sparks.
“This week will give us time to get used to each other. It'll make it seem more real,” I managed to say.
“It is real, Phoebe.”
After that, Archer helped me tidy the kitchen.
“What do you usually do at night?” he asked when we settled into the couch in the living room.
I smiled sheepishly. “Watch TV until I get sleepy. Sometimes I read.”
“You always did love to read.”
“I still do.”
“What do you read now?”
“Just about everything. Romance, mysteries, literature, sometimes nonfiction.”
“The whole gamut,” he murmured. His smile was warm. “What do you like to watch on TV?”
“Let's pick a show. Something relaxing,” I insisted. “Parks and Rec? I love that show.”
So that was how I found myself with my legs thrown over Archer’s lap and his palm curled around my ankle. Somehow, I relaxed. I fell asleep later with him curled up beside me, his palm warm on my belly and the sound of his breath lulling me to sleep. I almost couldn't believe we were there.
Chapter Fifteen
Archer