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I continue finger-fucking her until the orgasm dies. She lies on her back, her chest rising and falling. Her whimpers echo between us as I study her.
“That was unexpected,” I say with a chuckle. “And so fuckin’ hot.”
“Sorry, I tried to warn ya, but—”
“I didn’t mind.” I bring my fingers to my mouth and lick them clean.
“Your sheets are a mess.”
“I’ll put them in the wash, and we can sleep in yours tonight,” I offer.
“Sounds good. I’m gonna take a quick shower.”
Everleigh crawls off the bed, but before she can walk out, I quickly catch up to her and pin her against the door. “I meant what I said,” I say. “That was a one-time thing.”
She sucks in the corner of her lower lip. “You sure about that?”
“Everleigh,” I warn. “I’m battling a million demons in my head. Please don’t make it harder for me.”
She lowers her gaze to my cock that’s been hard since she came into my life.
“You can force me away all you want, but in the end, your body always gives you away,” she says with confidence. And she’s not wrong.
I growl out my frustration.
“Feel free to join me. We can take turns cleanin’ each other.” She winks, then leaves me with the most tempting offer of my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY
EVERLEIGH
For the past two weeks, I’ve been in party-planning mode, and tonight’s finally the big event. Though his birthday was technically two days ago, we’re celebrating this weekend, so we don’t have to get up early the next day. I plan to drink my weight in tequila and maybe seduce Archer until we’re both naked and sweating.
Against my wishes, Archer has stayed true to his promise he made the night he finger-fucked me. So far, it has only been a one-time thing. That doesn’t mean I haven’t wished he’d change his mind. One time, he shoved a pillow between us and said if I didn’t stop tempting him, it’d stay there permanently. I hated the thought of not being close or touching him, so I promised to behave.
But tonight, all bets are off. Though he doesn’t buy into the whole “a year older, a year wiser” mantra, I don’t mind being the one to prove him otherwise.
“Birthday boy! Get up, sleepyhead,” I call out from the kitchen. I woke up early to make breakfast before the festivities began. I also need to finish decorating before tonight.
“It’s not my birthday anymore,” he says with a groan, greeting me in only his boxers.
“It’s your birthday month,” I emphasize.
“Oh, man. You’re one of those.” He laughs, reaching for the coffee pot.
“Did you really expect anything else?” I flash him a wink, then hand him a plate of French toast, sausage, and bacon.
“Nope.” He happily takes his food and mug. “Thank you. Let me cook for you tomorrow night. I want you to try my meatballs—”
I arch a brow, then lower my gaze down his happy trail that leads me to his…
“—in homemade marinara sauce,” he adds with a sly smirk.
“Oh. Damn. But fine. I still owe ya that deli date too. Let’s aim for next week so I don’t keep forgetting.”
“Right. What’d you say I had to try again? Turkey something?” he asks, taking a seat at the table.
“Upside down turkey and gravy sandwich,” I confirm, sitting across from him with my food and coffee.