Compassion (13 page)

Sharply I snap, “Merrick!”

Instead of pushing the subject nature, Archer gives me a simple glance, smiling brightly this time. Nonchalantly he nods. “She's putting one on mine too.”

“You must really mean something to her if she's skipping work for you,” Merrick continues to sell me out. “From my understanding and word on the street girl doesn't miss work for anything shy of death.”

“You're one to talk,” I fuss back. “You don't miss work for anything either.”

“I love my job,” he shrugs. “Besides I can do it any time day or night as long as the buildings empty or damn near empty anyway.
You
hate leaving those kids without books or books read to them for any long period of time.”

My body slides down on the bench.

God he makes me sound like a workaholic with no life outside of books....Oh, shut up.

“She loves her job too,” Archer kindly defends. “It's one of the things I love about her.”

Before Merrick has a chance to throw me under the bus again, I ask, “Why aren't you at work? Or in class?”

“I've got class in about an hour. I'm gonna meet my girlfriend for a quick bite.” Archer's entire body seems to relax as soon as the word girlfriend is said. “I was on my way to grab her some flowers first.”

“I love you flowers or I'm sorry flowers?” Archer questions.

Merrick smirks. “This time, I'm sorry flowers.”

Curious I lift my eyebrows. “What'd you do?”

“Forgot we made plans and agreed to work late. It was just a mix up. She's not mad or anything, but I feel like an asshole.”

“Red tulips,” Archer suggests. “They're better than roses. In poems they've be associated with declarations of love. Tied to imagery and proclamations of passion, heat, and desire running so hot it scorches the heart of the flower.”

To my surprise, Merrick smirks. “Red tulips it is.” He slips his hands in his jacket pockets. “I'm gonna get going so I'm not late for lunch too. Thanks for the tip, Archer.”

“Anytime.”

Merrick playfully looks at me again. “Enjoy your day off.” When I let my jaw slip open to comment he adds, “Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. Relax, Jaye.”

He strolls away and the second he's out of ear shot I ask, “You like poems?”

Archer turns to face me, green eyes softening. “Some.”

“Modern or classic?”

“Both.” Without waiting for me to ask for further information, he offers, “Always have. I enjoy the complexity of some and the simplicity of others. The themes of a spiritual paradise, the products of war, and unmistakable passion sometimes bordering obsession are what I prefer, but I'll give almost any type a chance.”

Excited that he really relishes some form of literature, I try to calm my voice. “Have you ever tried to write one?”

Archer sides steps the question. “You ready to go? I used to be a kick ass bowler.”

“Is that right?”

He stands and slides his hands in his jacket pocket. “Yup.”

“Well just so you know, my daddy used to take me bowling with his league and I know a thing or two about knocking down pins.”

“Sounds like you might be a challenge.”

Mimicking his action, I stand up and bury my hands as well. “Think you can handle me?”

His face lowers closer. “I think I wanna try...”

Are we still talking about bowling?

The rest of our day together is amazing. After bowling for a few hours, we enjoy a late lunch at one of my favorite sandwich shops, before checking out a local art exhibit that spurs more laughter than philosophical conversation. By the time our evening is wrapping up, we grab a couple of fast food burgers and head home, exhausted from the outing.

“I honestly don't remember the last time I spent the entire day having fun like that,” I sigh, leaning against the railing.

Archer smiles leaning against the wall opposite of me. “Me either.”

“Are you doing okay?” I toss a nod to his leg. “Was it too much for your body?”

“Nah,” he denies immediately. “It doesn't hurt. Most of the time I don't even realize I've got a limp. But I appreciate the concern.”

A warm feeling takes hold of me. Casually I grip the ends of my long sleeve shirt, stretching the material with my fingertips. “Of course I'm concerned about you.”

“Of course?”

“Of course,” my repetition, pushes my body towards his. “I've been worried about you since the first time I saw you by my trashcan.”

Restraint of his movements is clear. Archer's body tightens as his feet stay in place. “Why?”

Letting my body drive itself closer, I whisper, “I don't know. There was just something there. Something in those green eyes of yours that I couldn't get out of mind no matter how hard I tried.”

Somehow my body has bridged the short distance, which has us the closest we've been since the theater this afternoon.

Apparently my brain and body aren't working in tandem. Should I fix that?

“You look like you needed someone. You looked scared and alone.” I carefully run my fingers down his chest. It tightens further on contact. His breathing seems to cease. “You looked like part of you was hiding from the world, afraid to just be you, whoever that is. I saw something in your eyes that I had seen in my own morning after morning.” When Archer's green gaze looks like it's heating, I bare the remainder of my feelings. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wasn't. Either way, I don't care. I'm just thankful you're here with me now.”

His head wavers back and forth while his lips plead, “Jaye...”

Some unknown source pushes me up on the tips of my toes. “Yeah?”

With my face too close for anything else than the inevitable, I observe the turmoil tumbling through his eyes at the temptation I'm begging he gives into. “Promise me you'll lock your door tonight?”

Confusion climbs onto my face. “Why?”

“Because once I taste you, I know it won't be enough.” He wets his lips but remains still. “And I can't promise I'll have enough self-control not to have every fucking bit of you.”

Holy hell...What am I supposed to say that?!

Rendering me basically speechless causes him to growl, “Promise.”

“Promise.” The word barely has time to roll off my tongue before Archer's is on top of it with a forceful greeting. One of his large hands is gripping the nape of my neck while the other is planted on my hip. Effortlessly he leads me backwards, tongue feverishly exploring every inch I'm offering and even the ones I'm not. The kiss overpowers my ability to breathe as it sucks the life from me. When my body is lowered onto the stairs, I toss my arms around his neck, desperate to take him with me. He follows suit while one of his hands slips under the edge of my thin shirt. Lost in the overwhelming euphoria, a moan divulges from me without consent.

Archer unexpectedly pulls away, the glowing of his gorgeous green gaze enough to make another heated exhale seep out.

What is wrong with me?! I never made these kind of sounds with Chris! I was so quiet and hardly ever vocal. What? What do you mean he wasn't doing it right then? Stop that...he was....good in bed. I mean he wasn't bad in bed. Why are you asking me about how many guys I've been with? Now doesn't really seem like a good time for this conversation!

Afraid I screwed up somehow, I painstakingly question, “Did I do something wrong?”

Tenderness floods his expression. “I don't think that's fucking possible.”

My lips curl into a playful smirk.

A small groan comes out of Archer as he pushes himself completely off of me. “We need to say goodnight.”

Displeased in more ways than one, I sit up straight, on the stair, my eyebrows darting down. “But-”

“Jaye, it was already a miracle I didn't rip off your clothes and fuck you rotten on those stairs, but hearing you moan...” He shakes his head slowly, hand gripping the railing hard enough to have it come flying out of the wall. “If I don't walk away right now, the only mission on my mind will be doing everything possible for you to make that sound from this moment until mid-morning tomorrow, and I only say mid-morning because I know you'll need to refuel.”

Um...that's quite an amount of endurance.

I swallow the urge to whimper. “And that's bad?”

The fierce sexual groan I'm loving more each time I hear it falls from his mouth.

Is it wrong to love the animalistic part of man?

“Not bad,” he states slowly. “Far from bad. It's just not...it's just not time.”

My pussy clenches in objection. Suddenly like one of the children who want a sticker when leaving my library, I pout. “Don't I get a say in that?”

Archer's answer is blunt. “No.”

Sexually frustrated, I ruffle my curly hair determined to bring myself down from the erotic high he yanked me into.

“Night, Jaye,” he says softly as he turns his body to head for the garage. Steps from the door he adds, “Lock your door.”

“Night,” I call back before flopping backwards on the stairs.

I don't wanna lock my door. I want him to come into my room, spread my legs and just take me. You know, I realize just how pathetically pornographic that might sound, but I haven't had sex in years! I haven't even had a pair of lips on mine since....Oh. Oh...Huh. Archer knows that doesn't he? He knows Chris was the last man I was with and doesn't wanna pressure me into anything or move too fast and risk whatever is here between us. I can't fault him for that. Damn it! Masturbating just seems like a cruel alternative to having him on top of me until the sun rises again. God if sex is anywhere in the ballpark of how well he kisses, I may need some days for mental preparation. Just sayin...

Archer

I'm fucked. No. I mean fucked. The last thing I needed was to take shit where we took it yesterday. Don't get me wrong. Jaye was....fuck me, even better than I had imagined she would be. Softer. Sexier. She was like your favorite moment in a porn. The one that makes your cock twitch to come. That single slice of a second where you just can't take it anymore. Jaye is that moment on fucking repeat. Eyes up. Off my crotch. So what if I've got a fucking hard on thinking about it, the important thing is I didn't act on it. I went to bed. Rubbed one or three out for the night. Made her lock her door....It's not like I would ever hurt a woman, but I know if I went up to her room, she wouldn't tell me no even though she should. She's not ready for that shit yet. She may think she is, but she's not. She's still holding onto too much of her dead fiancé for me fucking her to be a good idea. And before you go off on some I sound like a pussy tangent, I don't. No man likes to sleep with a chick and wonder if every time his cock thrusts inside she's picturing or comparing to her ex. No. In that moment you want all chips in. You wanna be the only thing she's thinking. Besides, I care about her too much to push her into something she's not ready for. Even if I didn't admit it out loud like she did, I care about her too. A lot.

Most of the morning, after our gym trip, Jaye works on her children's book at the dining room table while I pack up Chris' old office space.

She decided about a week ago she wanted to take the space for herself and asked if it could
be my next project. She picked out a paint color, but struggled deciding on furniture.
I
agreed
to pack his things away for her and paint the place. Gives me a new project to work on while avoiding the grim reality no matter how many resumes and applications I've filled out, no one wants to fucking hire me
.
It's been about a month now. Jaye says these things take time. Fuck. Time is all I have at this point.

I carefully stack his books in a box before sealing it and moving onto another shelf. This one is filled with awards and photos of him with what I assume are well known individuals in the business world. As I pack his things away, I find myself slightly puzzled.

There's not a single photo of Jaye in this office. Not one of her or them together. It's stale. Cold. Completely business oriented yet you would think he would want something to remember the woman he loved during all that right? Am I wrong? Do you ever wonder if maybe she wasn't his only...fuck it. I didn't say that.

During my trips downstairs, I take small moments to check in on her, but keep a good distance from the project she's working on.

She hasn't shown me whatever it is. She hasn't offered. It's her
s
. I respect that. When she's ready she'll share. I hope. Did I really just say hope? What the fuck is wrong with me?

The day flies by faster than I realize. Just as I'm sealing the last of his things in a box, Jaye leans against the door frame. “It looks....so empty in here.”

I stand up and lean against his wooden desk. “He had a lot of shit to clear out.”

She hums while her eyes wander around the room. “Did you find anything I would wanna keep? Like old photos of us? I have a box filled with that sort of stuff and just wanna make sure it all stays together.”

Fuck me. This is uncomfortable.

My voice strains to stay even. “I didn't come across anything.”

“Oh,” the single word reeks of dejection.

Wanting to comfort her but unsure that's possible without looking like a jackass trying to one up her dead almost husband, I simply fold my arms across my chest.

She slowly pulls her hair to one side of her face, shaking away whatever emotions are scraping their way through her system. “Um...dinner?”

“That's a meal of the day. Yeah.”

A hint of a smile appears. “I meant...what do you wanna do for dinner?”

“Wasn't there talk of Netflix and a couch today?”

She giggles, a sound I find myself anxious for more and more every day. “We can do that. How about I order pizza?”

“Even better.”

“Pepperoni, black olives, and mushrooms?”

It's my turn to smile. “You remember.”

“Of course.” Jaye wiggles her eyebrows. “How about I bake some of my famous chocolate chip cookies too?”

“Now you're just playing dirty.” I wag my finger at her. After she laughs, I say, “Want me to help with anything?”

“I've got it,” she answers kindly. “Why don't you just put the last of the boxes in the garage, grab a shower, and meet me on the couch. I'll introduce you to my latest guilty pleasure.”

Instinctively my dick threatens to grow.

Blame him. I dare you.

“It's a total chick show isn't it?”

“Not total,” Jaye playfully snickers before sticking her tongue out at me.

“You're lucky you're cute.”

“That's not luck. That's genetic.” Her playful comeback is followed by her exit.

Instead of immediately returning to my task, I find myself lingering in the moment we just had.

What do you mean I'm sprung? I'm not. I just...she's a wonderful woman. Kind. Funny. Sexy. Wait. That last part is just a bonus. You know what, shouldn't you be somewhere else, doing something else rather than judging my life? If you'll excuse me, I have some heavy as fuck boxes to take downstairs.

After a hot, well-earned shower, I meet Jaye in the kitchen where she's mixing cookie dough. My presence doesn't even register, which makes me smile. She continues working, using the edge of her middle finger to taste the batter. I watch intently as her tongue snakes out to test the combined ingredients.

I've had that fucking thing in my mouth. It's dangerous. Dangerous enough to make me blindly enter a war zone I'm not ready for.

Jaye lets out a little pleased hum and my cock throbs in response.

Sometimes he's a pain in the ass.

I clear my throat. “Need some help?”

“Taste this,” she demands holding out her dough tipped finger.

How Adam was persuaded to eat that apple is becoming more and more clear.

My mouth cracks open and her finger slips inside creating an intimate moment I wasn't prepared for. Slowly I suck, my tongue memorizing every curve of the delicate appendage, while my mind observes the way her free hand clutches the bowl tighter. The moment Jaye's bottom lip slips between her teeth, I let go. 

Trying to casually adjust the hard on in my shorts I state, “Tastes great.”

Her mouth moves but the words are lost. She nods and turns, her hair creating a curtain to shelter her face.

“Pizza on its way?”

“Should be here any minute,” she comments spooning the dough onto a cookie sheet. “These will be all cooled down by the time we're done.”

“Sounds perfect.”

When she turns to look at me this time, her brown eyes seem to be filled with more emotion than sexual tension.

Not really sure which was is better. Both look fucking beautiful.

“The show is loaded up and ready. I'll grab us something to drink. Beer?”

“Yeah,” I answer and head for the couch before any more trouble can occur in the kitchen.

We haven't done...anything since last night. In fact there's no real evidence anything has changed between us other than my dick now immediately popping up at the sight of her lips now instead of needing a moment to stare. My cock may be a traitor.

As she predicted the pizza shows up seconds after she slips the cookies in the oven. The two of us settle on the couch where we open the box and dive in.

Jaye starts the show two bites in and I ask, “What's this called again?”

“Unbreakable,” she coos. “It's the awesome show about this MMA fighter who is secretly in love with his best friend. It's soooo good.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Sounds like a chick show.”

“Give it a chance. It's really good. You're gonna love it.”

“Love?”

Jaye has a sharp bite of pizza before sternly saying, “Love.”

Doubt it. Has all the makings of a pathetic cringe worthy chick flick drawn out over a longer period of time. I will say it beats the hell out of possibly having a mental break down because lights trigger something inside of me I can't control.

The two of us blow through an extra-large pizza and a half of dozen of the best cookies I've ever eaten in my entire life. While I only have a couple beers, I'm slightly surprised she sticks with only water. The biggest shock isn't her choice not to join me in a relaxing beverage, but the fact I'm actually being sucked into the show.

“How can he not see how hot she is?” I complain having another swig of my beer.

“Right!” Jaye giggles and reaches for the blanket on the edge of the couch.

“He is a helluva a fighter though. Every fight is like the real deal.” Realizing I'm gushing about the show, I peer down to see her smirking. “I don't love this show.”

“You love this show.”

I shrug. “It's not bad.”

“It's okay,” she sighs as she leans her back against my chest. “I won't tell.”

After placing my beer bottle on the coffee table, I adjust my body to allow her to cuddle in closer, body angled in the perfect position for me to wrap my arms around her.

Which I'm not going to do. Nope. Look, it's hard enough with her pressed against me smelling like sweet and spicy seduction. The last thing I need is to have my hands on her. Resisting the urge to explore her body won't be an option this time around.

Jaye pulls the blanket over her body at the same time I extend my arm around the back of the couch, leaving the other to rest on the arm. Another episode of the show starts, but it doesn't matter. My attention is being yanked down to the gorgeous coffee colored slice of heaven I haven't been able to get off my mind for weeks. Doing my best not to let my eyes wander down the sleep tank top she slipped into, I don't seem to be able to stop them from drinking in the side view of her legs in a pair of shorts too short for anything good.

Something fucking hot maybe. Something fucking dirty and rough most definitely.

Feeling my temperature rise, I stifle the urge to adjust myself before she's clued into what's on my mind. The moment I divert my attention back to the TV, the worst possible thing begins to happen.

You've got to be fucking kidding.

Slowly, the MMA fighter whose name I can't recall for the fucking life of me, starts to finger bang the very girl he was trying to resist.

The fucking TV is mocking me. I didn't think it was possible to get more sexually annoyed. I was clearly wrong.

Jaye's body tenses against mine, her hand sliding towards my hard on. I clench my jaw to prevent the growing groan from escaping. Suddenly her body twists so her face is leering up at me, desire screaming so strongly that if I don't get up right now, I can't be held responsible for what happens next.

Weakly she whispers, “Archer...”

With what feels like no control over my own movements, the hand that was gripping the arm of the couch slides down her curves, briefly teasing her nipples before heading for her thick thighs, where I grip harshly. The second she whimpers I drop my mouth on top of hers determined to capture the sound, determined to suck it straight out of her into me like it's the only thing that's going to keep my alive.