“Yeah, I do.”
That’s my guidance. Life is short. So travel to a tropical island. Swim in the storm. Sleep with your cocky hot boss…
Goddamn my tongue.
Or not.
Because in a moment, Archer steps into me and his hands cup my face as his mouth crashes into mine, wiping any other thoughts from my mind.
Archer kisses like he hasn’t done it for the longest time. And thank God for whatever kept him away from women, unless he is that invested every time he kisses a girl.
Bossy cocky guys like him can be rough. Archer’s lips are anything but. They are just the right amount of hard and soft, and his tongue, stroking into my mouth, makes me whimper and thank the sound of the heavy rain that disguises this moment of my weakness.
His hands let go and wrap around my waist.
My mind is dizzy.
He is leaning into me. His body is pure taut muscles, bending me backward, his hands sliding under my shirt and up my back.
I’ve never had this much want for any guy. Like we took some drugs—granted, I did that before many times and know how it can override your natural hormones.
But we are sober, yet I feel high as we devour each other’s mouths.
The kiss escalates in seconds.
Our hands start grabbing at each other.
Mine slide up and down his torso.
His are doing the same, hiking my shirt up and squeezing my breasts through my bra.
In a minute, there’s no control or calculation.
Fuck it.
I want him.
We can totally do this and pretend back at Ayana that nothing happened. No one will find out.
I pull away abruptly. “Cameras?”
His pupils are dilated, the water droplets on his face so sexy that I want to lick them off.
“No. Not on this shack,” he blurts out and crashes his mouth to mine again.
While my brain is out, my hands go for his zipper, undo his jeans and push them down.
He frantically undoes my cargo pants. And we struggle for a moment, the wet clothes unwilling to go lower.
The rain pounds in sync with my heartbeat. The smell of wet jungle and sand tightens my senses. Waves crash at the shore. The storm is all around and inside me as we madly kiss with our pants and underwear around our thighs.
Desire shoots like a spear through my core when Archer’s hand slides between my legs.
I moan into his mouth. I don’t care. I’m not even sure if his touch is expertly good or I’m just too horny.
I can feel him tense with need too. My hand finds his erection, and—holy fuck!—even to the touch he is perfect, thick and heavy.
He groans, letting go of my mouth just for a moment. His hand grips my ass, his other starts rubbing my clit, and I match the speed, stroking his cock, my other hand cupping his balls.