Page 33 of Shots Fired

I refocus when his tongue spears inside me, cleaning me up so precisely.

He swallows us down and goes back to eating me out, pulling another unexpected orgasm from my body.

I overheat and thrash around, but Archer keeps his mouth firmly clamped around me. He isn’t moving from his spot until he’s had his fill and I’m a writhing, withering mess.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against me, taking a few last licks. “So perfect. And so fucking mine.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ARCHER

My eyes are dry from staring so hard, and my throat is thick with emotions and feelings I’ve never had before, never mind while sharing my bed with a girl. My lips are sore from the number of kisses I peppered across her shoulders while she slept.

Darcy Thompson is not a light sleeper.

I smile into her hair when she releases a little snort into the room—her version of a snore.

Like I promised, we went at it for most of the night before I let her sleep—or more like she passed out—and I wrapped myself around her, covering us both under the duvet.

And that’s where we’ve remained, the sun now rising and filtering into my bedroom, casting a glow on her long hair. She’s like Rapunzel or something—and up until last night, just as mythical. Since the second I laid eyes on this girl, I’ve been in a tailspin. Knowing I can’t touch her because she’s off-limits, but falling deeper under her spell regardless.

I should probably feel guilty for going behind my friend and coach’s backs, but that would mean I had a choice to walk awayfrom Darcy, which was something I could never do, especially not after I saw the look in her eyes when Jack spilled about Abbie.

That night in the bar, when I came between her and Harry, I was making steady progress, moving out of the friend zone and easing into flirting with her. Then in came her brother with his big size nines, blowing everything up with an announcement that I had a girlfriend. I wanted to scream right there that it wasn’t true, that I’d gone along with the lie to spend time with the very person I just crushed with it.

The only good thing to come out of the mess? That was the catalyst that pushed me to pin her against Jack’s spare bedroom door and confess that I wanted to take her home. I knew if I didn’t, then she’d eventually go searching for “fun” with the wrong guys, and there’s only so many times I can get away with punching them before they lay a finger on her.

I know there’s no going back now that she’s lying in my bed, and I wouldn’t want to. Last night was incredible, and this morning feels even better. I might be the first guy she’s been with since her asshole ex, but she’s the first-ever girl I’ve woken up next to.

Darcy makes me think about things I could never foresee myself wanting. She elicits a feeling of home I haven’t experienced since before the time my parents started fighting. Whenever I’m with her, my active brain is calm. I’m not searching for the next hookup. I’m right where I want to be. There isn’t another woman I want to talk to, lie beside, or draw soft moans from for hours at a time.

Last night only solidified those feelings.

Moving her hair to one side, I expose the nape of her neck, and she exhales a soft yawn into the room. With her back to me, I can’t be sure if she’s awake, although she’s definitely stirring.

“Stay with me today, here, in my bed,” I whisper against her skin, unsure if I’ll get an answer.

Darcy stretches out and then rolls toward me, still in my arms. Her blue eyes are sleep-dazed and satisfied, and when she offers me her sunshine smile, I melt further for this girl.

“Did you say something? Or was I dreaming?”

Full-on fucking giddy, I pull the duvet back over our heads and form a cocoon around us. The now-bright sun penetrates my white bed linen.

“You weren’t dreaming, Doll. I asked you to stay here with me, in my bed. I’ll bring you food in between sex.”

She suppresses a yawn, bringing a hand to her mouth and rolling onto her back. It’s then I notice the white gold bracelet she was wearing at the party, but never removed last night.

“I really can’t,” she replies, looking genuinely disappointed. “I’m actually out for lunch.”

She reaches down to her wrist, spinning the bracelet around a couple of times, and I wonder if it’s nerves. I’m not ashamed to admit the pang of jealousy I felt when I first saw her wearing it last night. And now that she’s talking about meeting a friend and playing with the bangle, I’m powerless to stop the words tumbling from my mouth.

“Do you have another guy, Darcy?”

Her head whips up to me, big eyes narrowing. “Okay, firstly, what do you mean by another guy? Because last I checked, I didn’t even have one.”

I go to reply, but she continues over me.

“Secondly, if I did, I wouldn’t be lying here, in bed, with you.”

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