Sworn to Be His (The Archer Family Book 3) (6 page)

H
is kiss consumed her
. Commanded her in a way she’d never felt before.

This wasn’t the chaste kiss of a man who didn’t know where he stood. Nor was it the overly tender kiss of an admirer.

This was all need, all passion, and before she could process how to feel about who and what and where she was, she was responding to him, breathing in his earthy masculine smell. Wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him closer to her aching breasts.

But no.

This was Derrick, Derrick Archer, her best friend. Her partner.

And more than that, was this how she wanted things to be between them? If she was going to be with him—and she definitely wasn’t committing to that one way or the other—than did she want it to be now? When she was barely dressed and in the middle of a strip club?

She stepped back, then stumbled and fell onto the U-shaped leather couch behind her. It was buttery soft, and she leaned her forearms on the fabric to catch her fall, and then to catch her breath.

A single Edison bulb hung from the ceiling, but the light was enough for her to see the hunger in Derrick’s dark eyes. Enough for her to make out the way his jaw ticked as his gaze raked over her.

“What’s going on? You’re going to get us—“

“I don’t care.” He bit the words out one by one, like each was harder to say than the last.

“But—“

“I don’t care,” he said again, and then she noticed the way his hands were clenched at his sides, his knuckles white.

“Derrick—“

“I want you.”

She felt like the wind was knocked out of her. Slowly, she stared back at this man—her friend—and took in the way he stared at her chest, at the tiny silk panties covering her from his view.

A jolt of awareness shot through her and for an instant she wanted to spread her legs apart, let him get a better look at her panties, let him imagine what was underneath.

With a quick glance, she flicked her gaze to his crotch and assessed his hard arousal. There was no denying it was there, long and hot and waiting for her.

Derrick.

“I don’t know what to say,” she choked out.

“Don’t say anything.” He took a step toward her, then settled onto the couch beside her. Leaning closer, he wrapped a tendril of her hair about his finger and then cupped her neck, bringing her closer to him.

She could feel the heat of his minty breath on her cheeks, and instantly her eyelids fluttered closed and she readied herself to taste him again. Too quickly, all thought of Zac, all thought of their jobs, all thought of the strip club was disappearing. They were just a man and a woman in a darkly lit room with nobody to interfere. Nobody to see.

She didn’t care about the clink of glasses or the sound of the raunchy music on the other side of the curtain. She only cared about the way his hand scorched the back of her neck, of the way his touch made her scalp tingle, her toes curl in anticipation.

He was only a millimeter away now. His lips would be on hers any second.

“Derrick,” she breathed.

“Yes?”

“What if everything changes?”

“I fucking hope it does.” And just like that, his mouth found her again.

His kiss was soft at first, then harder, deeper, and before long his tongue coaxed her mouth open so that he could taste her further, so he could push and pull along with her until she whimpered for more.

Whether she was shaking from anxiety or pleasure she didn’t know. All she could say for certain was that she didn’t want it to stop. That this man, who was her friend—her best friend—was making her feel like no man had ever made her feel before.

And it was pure, unadulterated bliss.

Before long his mouth found her neck and he sucked the hollow below her ear until she arched into him, wrapping her arms around his back and dragging her nails lower so he could feel her pleasure.

He groaned softly, kissing her deeper and licking his way down to her collarbone and back again.

Come on,
she wanted to say.
I want you. Please.

But she couldn’t bring herself to end the foreplay, either. Convinced somewhere in the back of her mind that the second she pulled away their senses would return to them and she’d be forced to turn him down. To never feel his thick need inside of her.

Still, the urge to feel his skin was too strong to ignore. With a quick pull, she tugged his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. Then, just as quickly, she wished she hadn’t.

How had she never noticed that Derrick had a body like that before? How on Earth had she been walking around side by side with this man who looked like he’d been chiseled from marble?

His rippled muscles shone in the dim light and as he bore down on her again, she had to fight the urge to push him back so that she could stare at his impressive form.

“Jesus,” she whispered, but he didn’t hear her. He was too busy burying his head in her hair, trailing another row of kisses all the way down her neck until he reached the top of her cleavage.

He kissed the small space just above her breasts, then looked down at the clasp of her front-closing bra and up at her face. Heat rose to her cheeks and she knew what he was thinking, what he was asking.

Shakily, she gave him a single nod.

Then, just like that, his teeth were on the clasp pulling it down over her breasts, her stomach, until it snapped and she was laid bare to him, the thin scrap of her panties the only thing keeping her from complete nudity.

Derrick reared back, then in a throaty voice, he said, “You’re fucking gorgeous. Nobody deserves to see you like that. Nobody but me.”

She blinked, not sure what to say, but just as quickly the moment had passed and his hands were on her chest, tweaking one nipple between thumb and forefinger while he took the other into his mouth and sucked.

His teeth scraped over her sensitive cherry tip, and she shivered, arching into his chest, willing him to travel lower or, at the very least, to pull his pants away and let her see what she was longing for.

But no. Instead he focused on pleasuring her chest, massaging her breasts with his palms and flicking her stiff pink peaks until she wondered if a woman might be capable of coming without a man going anywhere near her vagina.

But no, it wasn't enough. She needed more. Needed him to feel the raising ache between her thighs, to quell the need that was quickly becoming rapturously insistent.

"Derrick," she gasped, and he looked up at her, one dusky nipple still between his lips, and smiled.

Just like that, her heart melted and she writhed beneath him, giving over the last shreds of doubt until her hands were buried in his hair, following him as he moved lower still, to the space she was longing for him to explore.

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes rolling back in her head as his rough fingertips caressed the insides of her thighs.

"Derrick, she rasped his name again, and then the thin fabric was sliding down her thighs, past her knees, past her calves, and a cool rush of air filled the space between her legs.

She parted her legs easily, and though she waited for the warmth of his touch to consume her again, it didn't.

Instead, he paused, gazing down at her like she was the most beautiful piece of art he'd ever seen.

"Is everything okay? If it's too fast we can--"

He held up his hand. "Everything is perfect," he said. "I just have no idea how you were in front of me this entire time and I never saw you. I must be the biggest idiot in the entire world."

Heat rose to her cheeks, and then his fingers were trailing along the inside of her thigh, back and forth from her knee to the space she longed for him to touch. With every stroke, he got closer, teasing her until she rocked into his hand, begging for him to make his move.

"I've never seen a more beautiful woman in my entire life," he said, and then, finally, his thumb flicked over her sensitive bundle and he added, "Or a more beautiful pussy."

She moaned as his finger traveled lower.

God, who knew a single finger had the power to make her body convulse and fall apart? That a single touch would have her squirming for more, have her breasts aching to be touched again, to be savored.

"It's so pink and pretty. And wet." He pushed a single finger inside and she gasped, careful not to scream.

"Oh, Jade, I'm going to need to have you again. Somewhere we can be alone. Somewhere where I can hear you begging for my cock."

"I..." she tried, but no words came out. Her head was too fuzzy to string them together. It was simply too filled with him. With what he wanted. With what he might do next.

With when he'd finally poise himself over her and take her.

But then, if this was what a single finger did to her, what would happen when she had all of him? When he was buried to the hilt?

She could only imagine that she'd become completely and utterly undone. And still, she couldn't bring herself to mind.

Without another word, he lowered himself to her sex, lavishing her with his tongue up and down until she bucked against him. A fresh rush of heat rolled over her sensitized skin and his hands pressed into her hips, she rocked against his mouth, willing him to taste her deeper, to circle her clit. To suck. To have it all.

"I need, I need," she gasped but the words wouldn't come. "Derrick," she tried again, but then his mouth was on her sensitive bud at last and, just as quickly, he thrust a finger inside of her and she splintered apart, thrusting against him as he moved in and out. She wanted more, wanted everything, and still the world was falling apart around her.

With one hand she caressed the back of his neck and with the other she tried her best to hold on to the sofa, the floor, anything that might tie her down to reality.

She closed her eyes tight, as another roll of pleasure washed over her body and she whimpered, needing him more than ever before. Maybe if she could just get him to sit back, get him to let her pleasure him, she could get ahold of herself. Or maybe she should stop all together.

But no, it was too good to ever think of stopping.

"Jade," her voice was a deep rumble and she felt the burst of his breath against her skin.

"Yes?" she whispered.

"I'm going to take you now," he said, and then he was standing in front of her, unzipping his pants and pulling a condom from one pocket. Slowly, he rolled the rubber over his impressive length and she shivered just looking at him. She'd never been with a man that big before. Hell, she couldn't remember the last time she'd been with a man at all.

"I'm..." She tried to find the words. "I'm scared it might..."

"I'll be gentle with you. Don't worry, love."

Hearing the words alone was enough. She relaxed against the cushions, waiting eagerly for him. For the weight of his body against her chest. For the heat of his flesh against her own.

But when it finally came, it was even more than she could ever have imagined, like an sizzle of electricity passed over her with every inch of his skin, overloading her circuit board until she shook and shivered and writhed.

“Yes,” she hissed, and then he took himself in hand and teased her opening.

“Jesus, you’re so wet for me.”

“Just for you,” she whispered, and he cupped her chin again, pulling her into another long, deep kiss as he slid into her waiting heat. Inch by inch, she stretched to accommodate him, but even with his length she was surprised that it didn’t hurt.

Far from it, every little bit of him ratcheted up her pleasure until her toes curled and she spread her legs wider, needing to feel him as deeply as he could go.

“Derrick,” she sighed his name against his lips and he answered with another stroke, this one even deeper than the last.

“Oh, oh,” she choked out, and he smiled against her mouth as he kissed her again, taking her bottom lip between his and nibbling ever so gently. She swept her tongue out to greet him and he answered in kind as he pushed into her again and she arched her back into him.

He was so hard, so deep, and she longed to hold onto this moment when she could take in every little inch of heat, of breath, of passion. Soon, she knew, it would be gone, swept away by her need to feel him harder and faster, by a reckless abandon that was already building inside of her and threatening to consume her whole.

But it seemed as though Derrick knew that, too. Though she could feel him grow impossibly harder inside her with every stroke, she could feel his restraint, too. He was holding back, desperate for something neither of them could name.

“More,” she breathed, unable to help herself, and he answered her with a kiss and a long, deep thrust.

“Soon,” he whispered against her hair, but soon wasn’t good enough. The need inside her was taking over, and she raked her nails down his back as she arched into him again, meeting him now thrust for thrust and urging him faster and deeper.

“Jesus,” he rasped, and then his fingertips dug against her hips as he pulled back and shoved inside her over and over, pounding harder with every thrust until her breasts bounced from the sheer force of him.

“Yes,” she moaned, not caring who heard her. This was what she wanted. What she needed. This was Derrick, full and forceful and not holding back. She only wished that she could feel him spurt inside her, that he could fill her up with his hot need.

“Jade,” he called, and with one hand he pinched her nipple, spurring her onto a whole other plane. She pushed herself over the edge, closing her eyes as the need and want and greed devoured her at last and she bucked into him with reckless abandon, gripping and grasping at anything and everything as her walls shuddered around his rock hard shaft.

She wanted to scream, to yell his name so loud that everyone in the place discovered them, but instead she bit down on her bottom lip and rode him fast and hard until the fissions of pleasure coiled around her every extremity and lingered there.

W
hen Jade woke
up the next morning, she had two things on her mind: the irritating, insistent pounding of her head and Derrick Archer.

For a second, she thought it might have been a dream, the way he'd commanded her body and taken control of her. The way he'd made her come in a way no man had ever managed in her life. But she knew it wasn't a dream. It couldn't have been.

The awful truth was that she'd slept with her best friend.

And worst of all? She'd liked it.

Now she just had to go into work and...what? What could she possibly say to him?

She didn't have the option of walking up to his desk and making a joke of it. Nor could she imagine bringing it up at all, not when they were supposed to be pretending to be deeply and passionately in love.

Or were they?

Would Derrick still want to go through with her plan now that things had gotten so serious between them? Or was it even a serious thing? Did people ever just do it and then get on with their regularly scheduled relationship?

She had certainly never operated that way, but that didn't mean it wasn't possible. She could walk into work this morning and Derrick could knock on her desk and make fun of her like nothing had ever happened.

Like he hadn't completely rocked her world.

"Shit," she rolled over in her bed and stuffed a pillow over her face.

Lisa pounced on top of her and landed on her stomach with a soft thump, but Jade didn't have the energy to swat her away. Instead, she snuggled the cat close to her and said, "What am I going to do?"

Okay, first things first.

How was she feeling about all of this?

She took a deep breath, trying to put words to the swarm of feelings raising in her chest and swirling in her stomach. It felt like an excited glow, in a way, though there was a nervous energy there too. Like she wanted to run a mile and also lay in her bed for the rest of the day.

"I've got nothing," she mumbled, then, like a flash, she remembered Zac.

Zac with his perfect muscles and his history of making her knees buckle. What was she going to do about Zac? What was Derrick going to do about Zac?

After all, she was still trying to win him over, right? Wasn't that still the plan?

Before she had the chance to torment herself with any further questions, there was a pounding on her front door and Lisa slipped through her arms and slinked from the room.

Following suit, Jade tugged an oversized T-shirt over her head and wriggled into a pair of yoga pants before rubbing her eyes and making for the door. She swung it open easily before checking the peephole, and then her breath caught.

There he was. Derrick Archer. Tall, dark, and sexy. Except not sexy. He wasn't supposed to be sexy, not to her.

"Great minds think alike," she mumbled, then ushered him into the tiny living room off of her foyer. As she led him, she swallowed hard, suddenly all too aware of the heat rising in her cheeks and the uncomfortable swirling in her stomach. She felt like a little kid waiting for her crush to notice her on the playground. Somehow, that made it that much worse, too.

"So, I came by to apologize," Derrick said, then sank back onto her bright red sofa.

"Oh, um, you don't need to apologize. It takes two to tango, you know, and—"

"I'm not apologizing for that." He looked up at her and suddenly there was a hunger in his eyes, a fire she hadn't noticed before. "I'm apologizing for blowing the case. I shouldn't have let my feelings get in the way of an investigation. No matter how good you looked."

Her mouth went dry and suddenly she couldn't look anywhere but him and the way his legs spread wide and casual as he surveyed her. She knew what lay underneath his jeans now. She knew exactly how impressive he was. How big and strong. How powerful.

An ache rose between her thighs and she sank into a chair opposite him, if only to have something to do.

"You..." She started, but even that was a strain. She had no idea what to do, what to say. Had he just said she looked good? And why did that make her heart do jumping jacks?

"I fucked up and I shouldn't have." He sighed. "I called Crystal this morning to see if we could schedule another officer to go undercover with her help."

Jade perked up, her brows furrowing. "Another officer? But I—"

"I never want to see you dressed like that again unless it's a private viewing. Those men don't deserve to look at you that way. You're too good for them."

"And you think you're just good enough?" She wasn't sure what made her say it, or why every word sounded so coated with lust. Maybe she just needed an answer. Or maybe she was fishing for the answer she wanted.

Even now, looking at him, he wasn't the same old Derrick. Not anymore. He was memories of laughter and joy and adventure...and ecstasy. His mouth was full and sweet and tender and his arms looked warm and strong. She longed to feel them around her again, to have him press her up against the wall and—

"I never said I was good enough either," he said.

Her heart fluttered inside her chest. "So you're saying..."

"Nobody is good enough for you, Jade. But I want you. I think you want me, too." His dark eyes took her in and she licked her top lip almost unconsciously.

"I don't know what I want," she admitted.

"No?" He didn't sound bothered or surprised. Just vaguely curious. Like he'd found something out from a crossword puzzle.

"No...I...This is so confusing." She shook her head and let out a deep breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Because you can't choose between me and Zac?" he asked.

"No." The answer came out so fast she couldn't believe it, and yet she still knew it was the truth. "Because you're my best friend. What if...what if we ruin everything?"

"But what if we don't?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"But what if we
do
?"

A faint smile touched his lips. "I only know a few things. The first is that you're fucking gorgeous. The second is that I like you. And the third is that I'd be willing to do just about anything to feel your body against mine. I could barely sleep for thinking about you and I can't bring myself to think it was a mistake."

She blinked, then bit down on the inside of her cheek as she took in the words, playing them back over in her mind.

"You're all I've got," she whispered. "I don't have Andy and Matt. I don't have Army buddies. I've just got you. It's not the same risk for you."

"Then tell me you don't want me. Tell me you want Zac."

"I don't want Zac." She said, and this time she didn't feel anything at all. Like stating a fact.

"Tell me you don't want me." Derrick said, his tone gruffer than she'd ever heard it before. More raw. More sexy. Almost like he'd sounded when he'd whispered against her hair the night before.

Another ache swelled between her legs. "I can't say I don't want you."

"Then take a risk with me," he said. "Take a risk, Jade."

T
here was a pause
, just the slightest moment of silence, and then her body responded before her mind had a chance to.  She met him quickly until her chest was flush with his and her aching nipples pressed against the hard planes of his abs.

He  met hers hungrily, devouring every last ounce of her insecurity.

"I want you," she said. " I want you right now."

"I'm right here." His lips were only a millimeter from hers, and his warm breath fanned against her cheek tempting her to kiss him.  This, she knew, was the point of no return. Whatever they'd done the night before it would be nothing compared to this. If he took her now, there was no turning back.

She'd be his.

But somehow at the moment that didn't scare her. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but him. All she had to do was close the space between their lips.

But she didn't.

Instead, she sank to her knees in front of him, unzipped his pants, and pulled them down along with his underwear until his cock sprang out, hard and thick and ready for her.

He stumbled back, then whispered her name. Not as a warning or in surprise, though, but like a reverence.

Still on her knees, she guided him back into a chair and once he was settled against the cushions, she took him in her hand and worked up and down, watching the tick of his jaw as she pleasured him.  She studied the way he jerked as she pleasured him with her hand, the way his eyes dilated as he took her in, waiting for more.

And he'd have it. In time.

"I want to see you. All of you," he said.

"You will, but first..." She didn't know how to finish, so she figured she’d let her actions do the talking.

Gripping the base of his shaft, she closed her lips over his sensitized head and swirled her tongue around the tip, catching the bead of precum already leaking from the top. A gentle moan, and she swallowed it, then took him deeper into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat.

"Jesus, Jade." He closed his eyes and she stared up at him wishing she taken his shirt off so she could see the rippling of his muscles as he moved lower into the chair.

With one lazy hand, he raised his fingers between the strands of her blond hair and tugged gently. She worked him up and down over and over again. Pulling away, she laved him with her tongue until he let out a tortured little groan and she sucked him again, harder and deeper.

"Let me see you."  It was less a plea than a command, but she ignored it all the same until at last he leaned forward and jerked her shirt over her head.

"I need you," he rasped, and another thrill shot through her at the words.

"Let me—" She tried, but he was done indulging her. He pushed her back into the floor, then pulled her pants off with quick decisiveness before pulling off his own shirt.

For an instant, she simply stared up at him. His tense muscles, the hard plane of his stomach, the square ruggedness of his jaw. This wasn't the face of her best friend any longer.

This was the face of her lover, and as he sank onto the floor, bracing himself above her, she knew that she'd made the right decision.