Page 59 of Loving at 40

Reaching down, I struggle with his belt until he quickly stands, catching me at the hip, and one-handedly, he works his belt, button, and zipper. I take over, shoving down his briefs and jeans until he steps out of them. We stand facing one another, body to body, just breathing each other in. His hand comes to the back of my head again, and he kisses me—tender, soft, sweet.

Slowly, he lowers to the mattress and takes me with him, keeping us attached by our mouths. Once my body covers his, we still.

“Condom?” I’d spent years being the provider or the one to remind my partner of such a thing, but this . . . feels uncomfortable. “I’m not on the pill.”

My head dips, embarrassed to admit the truth. “I haven’t been with anyone in three years. Not since . . .” I hadn’t considered I’d have sex again, and I never renewed my prescription after Rosie’s birth. I didn’t think I’d ever be in this position again. I shrug, dismissing the awkwardness of this conversation.

“Jenna, baby,” he whispers, tightening his hand in my hair. “I’m clean. I’ve been triple-checked since everything.” Since he’s been shot. “But we should still be careful.”

He reaches over to a small drawer in the nightstand and pulls out a small foil square. He’s quick to cover himself and guide me back over him. With his hands on my hips, we line up, and he pauses, eyes meeting mine. There are so many questions in those dark eyes, and I lean down to quickly kiss his lips.

“Archer,” I whisper, answering all his concerns.

Yes, I’m okay with this.

Yes, I want him.

Yes, I could love him if he’d let me.

He enters me with a slow, measured pace when I expected him to rush. Then again, nothing has been as I expected with this man. A man I’ve misjudged, misread, and almost missed entirely in my life. We come together, him filling me in a way I haven’t been in far too long. For a second, my eyes lazily close at the sensation.

When he’s full to the hilt, he pauses again, and I swallow around the lump in my throat. It’s too much. The way he’s looking at me. The way he feels inside me. The way my heart wants to burst. His eyes seek mine, searching my face. I’ve never felt more alive, more beautiful . . . more loved.

“Move, babe.” With his rough voice, the strain in it has me sliding up his shaft, teasing him at the edge before slamming back down. Holding this position, we move together with me riding him until he jackknifes upward and flips me over. Remaining inside me, he brushes back my hair, taking another moment to get his fill of looking at me. Then he drags back but thrusts forward. Short jabs. Sharp rushes. He takes over, and it’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before.

My hands climb his chest and curl over his shoulders, feeling him everywhere as he rocks into me. Gradually, his pace increases, and my palms cover his shoulder blades, slipping down the dip of his back until I cup his firm backside. Holding him, I press my heels into the mattress and buck upward, losing myself in the thrill of him filling me.

“Archer,” I whisper a warning. I’m so close. This never happens. I can’t get there without attention to my clit, but the way he moves, the drag of him, the rush of him, his length hits me in a way my orgasm ripples up my legs and across my belly. I brace for impact. The eruption bursts, and I clutch his backside, squeezing him inside me, groaning his name. I never want it to end.

“Jesus, Jenna. Just. Fuck.” He moves faster, driving harder, letting loose a little more as my release teases his from him. Propped on an elbow, he lowers his hand, touching that trigger point on my body. “Give me another one.”

The command is too much. He’s too much. “I can’t.”

“You can, ’Locks. Do it again for me.”

We’re two bodies out of control as I thrust upward, and he surges inward. Eventually, the climb tosses me over the edge a second time, and Archer joins me with soft encouragement.

“Never knew it could be like this,” I groan. With him pulsing and pumping inside me, my release drags onward. My lids flutter closed as if I can capture this feeling like a snapshot. My hands roam his body, touching him everywhere I can, as much as I can, memorizing his body over mine, in mine. Our hearts race, and my hand pauses on his chest, covering that sacred spot.

“It beats for you,” Archer whispers, and my breath catches.

“Same with mine,” I whisper back. His mouth takes mine, drawing us together while he’s still inside me. Our heads tilt, and lips move, holding this sensation of togetherness as long as we can.

Archer pulls back first, rubbing his nose along mine as I do with my girls.

“Give me twenty minutes, and we’re doing that again,” he warns in his growly rough voice. I giggle until I see the spark in his dark eyes.

I’ll be with him as many times as he’d like. I want to just be. With him.

23

[Archer]

“Let me take you to dinner tonight.”

Jenna is making breakfast for the girls, and my hand sweeps up her spine. I want to pull her to me, press her body to mine like we did three times last night. I haven’t had a workout like that since I was in my early thirties, and I’m not as young as I once was, but damn, this woman. She keeps me rock hard and wanting.

Her eyes shift to the girls sitting on the stools at the counter before answering me, and I read her thoughts.