A Hideaway Wharf Holiday by Laurel Greer

Author:Laurel Greer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2023-06-21T21:52:55+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Archer was lying on the living room floor stretching and doing energy work when Franci stomped down the stairs. She’d been touchy with him since their almost kiss earlier today. Made a man want to claim her mouth and feast until he kissed her fears away.

He got it, though. His skin was electric and he’d been walking around half-hard all day. The mere thought of kissing her again pushed him close to making the poorest of decisions.

She tromped into the kitchen and started opening and closing drawers, each one with a louder bang than the last.

So much for fitting in a bit of self-administered Reiki. He liked to do it daily but hadn’t had the chance yet today between work and hanging out with Iris. He wouldn’t be able to finish so long as he knew Franci was unhappy. He stood and went into the kitchen.

“What do you need?” he asked, leaning a hip against the counter.

“Batteries,” she said sharply.

“What for?”

She paused, eyes flashing. “Things.”

Oh, Christ.

Things.

“My hand would work as well as a vibrator.”

He said it at, like, 1 percent volume. Couldn’t even call it a whisper. But her spine went as straight as the flagpole by the walkway to his dock. Damn.

“Valuable information if you were, in fact, offering.” She nearly spat the words. “You’re being a tease.”

Closing his eyes, he groaned. “No, I’m being reasonable.”

She poked him in the chest, and he blinked them open, soaking in her frustration—the pink blush on her cheeks, the deep brown of her eyes.

“I’ll show you reasonable, Archer.”

He caught her wrist before she could poke him again and lifted an eyebrow.

“Reasonable would be having a supply of triple-As in the house!” Her chest rose and fell and with it, her lush breasts, full and tantalizing.

“Your things still take triple-As?”

“My backup does,” she seethed.

Had she run out of juice with her other one, or forgotten to charge it?

The skin on the inside of her wrist was so smooth. Her pulse thrummed against the pad of his thumb. The rhythm called to him, stoking the flame between them. The tangible tattoo of her need, the teeth biting the inside of her lip, the pinch of worry at the corners of her eyes.

He could ease her plight.

Not anything permanent, or ongoing, even, but...right now.

Her pink plush mouth begged silently for relief.

His own lips—his entire being—craved the same.

He curved her body into his, backing her against the counter. Digging his fingers into her hips, he dropped his mouth to hers. Coaxing, teasing until she opened, until she gasped and clutched at his shoulders.

“I thought you didn’t want...” Her words dissolved into a soft whimper.

“Of course I do.” Another long sip at her mouth, savoring the sweetness of her tongue, her taste. “I think—I know—it’ll go sideways on us, but, Franci...”

“Yeah?”

“Can’t talk myself out of it right now.”

“Mmm, ’bout time.” Her fingers trailed up his neck and delved into his hair, pulling his face closer to hers. Her kiss threw him off-kilter, tilting his world until he felt less balanced than if he had one foot on his dock and one on his boat.

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