“No I don’t.” But she’s nodding as I lean into her, and when I brush my mouth with hers, the shuddering exhale she breathes against my lips twists up my insides. “Archer . . .”
I love hearing her say my name, even if it’s in protest. Because really she’s not protesting. She wants this just as bad as I do.
“Just one kiss,” I murmur against her lips, darting out my tongue to lick. The soft moan that escapes her is my answer, and I settle my mouth fully on hers, our tongues meeting, circling, tasting. I rest my hand on her hip, stepping into her, wanting to feel her.
The breeze sweeps over us, a shiver moves through her, and I slip my arms completely around her waist, tugging her lower body close to mine. Fuck Gage. Fuck anything else. I want to pull her into that bedroom, slam the door and keep her in the bed pinned beneath me for the next twenty-four hours.
It wouldn’t be enough. But when it comes to Ivy, I’ll take what I can get.
A buzzing sound rings through my head as I continue to kiss her, lose myself in her. I slide my hands over her ass, groaning when she grinds subtly against me. The buzz gets louder, more insistent, and I break the kiss first, staring down at her, my breath coming in pants. “What is that?”
She blinks up at me, looking as wrecked as I feel. “I think it’s your phone.”
Shit. She’s right. I can feel it vibrating in my jeans pocket. Yanking it out, I see it’s a text message from Gage.
I gotta get back home. Meet me at the car.
“It’s your brother.” Damn it, I’m not ready to send her back to the city with Gage. I want to keep her here with me.
Like she’d ever go for it. She has a life. A relatively new career, friends—she probably has little time to spare, especially for me.
I’m delusional if I think I can make something between us work. Not that I want something real or lasting. A fling. That’s all I want. And then there’s the bet to consider.
You’re really going to let a bet guide your decision?
I ignore the shitty little voice in my head.
“What did he say?” She licks her lips as if she’s trying to get one last taste of me, and my c**k twitches as I reluctantly step away from her.
“He’s ready to leave.”
“That’s probably best.” She pushes away from the railing, glancing to her left, looking at the tub that sits outside near the deck. “You never did explain the reason for the tub being outside.”
“It’s built for two. The decks are all private; none of the guests can see each other.” I smile, imagining the two of us in that tub, our naked skin slick and soapy, Ivy sitting in my lap, her long legs wound around my waist. “It’s, uh, one of our most popular features.”
“I’m sure.” The sarcasm is thick and I take another step away from her, surprised. “Archer, what happened between us last night . . .”
“Was a mistake. I totally agree.” I finish for her, needing to be the first one who said it.
Weird thing, though, is the look on her face when I did. Like I slapped her when she least expected it.
“A mistake,” she says slowly as she nods. “That’s what you think?”
“Absolutely. I mean, come on. We could never work. I don’t do relationships. You know this.” I sound far more confident than I feel. Maybe it’s because I always say this sort of thing to women, or really more to myself. I’ve never been in a relationship. I know I would fail at one. I would most definitely disappoint her. Ivy.
But secretly? I wish she would give me—give us—a chance.
“And I do.”
“You most definitely do,” I agree a little too quickly.
“And you’re yet another Humpty Dumpty.” She sighs.
“What?” Okay, that made no damn sense. Why is she calling me Humpty Dumpty?
“The kind of guy who’s all broken up and can’t be put back together again.” She smiles at me, but it’s sad and the sight of it makes me feel like a complete jerk. “I have a type. And I think you top my type list.”
“I’m on your type list?” I never believed Ivy had any sort of crush on me. Not beyond the push-pull-we-hate-each-other-maybe-we-should-tear-each-other’s-clothes-off thing we’ve been suffering through for years. Though I always figured that was more one-sided on my part.
“I never realized it until now. You’re so right. We could never work. I’m too nice. And you’re too . . . you.” She drops that bomb like it makes all the sense in the world.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I rub my palm against my chest, irritated with myself. I’m acting butt-hurt over a woman. This is crazy.
“Do I really need to explain myself, Archer?” She doesn’t let me answer. “Let’s go meet Gage. I need to get out of here.”
Without a word, I follow her out, trying to ignore the disappointment settling over me like a heavy wet blanket.
But I can’t. Her rejection, her words hurt far more than I care to admit. And I’m the one who rejected her first.
We’re quiet as we head back to the car, Gage waiting beside it with his arms crossed in front of him, tapping his foot impatiently. We all get inside, Ivy taking the back seat this time, and the mood is dark as I make the quick drive home.
They both hop out of my car as if they can’t wait to get away from me the moment I pull up in front of my house and I climb out, chasing after them.