Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
I’m two seconds from taking us there when the shrill ring of my room phone shatters the moment.
“Son of a bitch,” I snarl, pissed beyond measure.
I crawl up her body, snatching it off the receiver.
“Fuck off,” I growl, not really caring who is on the other end.
“Well, fuck you too,” Micah says in my ear, chuckling.
Son of a bitch. Micah.
“You’re supposed to be downstairs in fifteen minutes, fucker.”
“Goddammit.”
“Hung over?” he asks.
I scrub a hand down my face, my eyes locked on Wren’s face.
She sits up, staring at me. Her face is still flushed from her orgasm, her eyes dilated. But she knows it’s Micah. I see the realization settling over her little by little, undoing every bit of progress we made. Desire cools, turning cold. Her flush fades, leaving her pale. She wraps her arms around herself, trembling.
She’s slipping away right in front of my face, closing down on me.
“Yeah,” I lie to her brother, my eyes locked on her, silently pleading with her for…what? I don’t know. To stay in the moment that was gone as soon as the goddamn phone rang? To give me the chance I stole?
“Have you seen Wren this morning? I haven’t been able to get ahold of her.”
“She’s probably regretting her life right now,” I say. It’s not a lie, but I fucking hate that it’s true.
“I’ll go wake her up,” he mutters. “I’m guessing she’s probably hung over.”
Fuck. If he goes looking for her, he isn’t going to find her in her room. And he’s going to kill us both.
“I’ll take care of bringing her down,” I quickly say. “Give me five minutes to get dressed.”
“Fine.” He pauses. “What the fuck did the two of you do last night?”
“Lost a shit ton of my money. Your sister sucks at poker.”
He laughs loudly as Wren scrambles from the bed as if released from a spell, her movements jerky, nervous.
“Gotta go,” I mutter. “See you soon.” I slam the phone onto the receiver, reaching for her. But she’s already slipping away. “Wren, baby…”
“Don’t.” Her voice cracks. “Please…just don’t.” She presses her palms to her cheeks. “This can’t happen, Archer.”
I rise from the bed, defiance surging through me in a black cloud as I stalk toward her. “Too goddamn bad,” I growl, yanking her into my arms to kiss her hard on the mouth. “It’s happening. We’re married and we aren’t getting a divorce. Get used to it.”
“Archer!” she cries as I grab my duffle, striding toward the bathroom. “Archer, dammit!”
“Go get ready, wife. We’re leaving for the airport in fifteen minutes.”
Chapter Four
Wren
“I am not spending the night with you,” I hiss, glaring at Archer as the chartered plane catapults us toward DC. The infuriating man made me sit with him and Micah. He didn’t even ask if that’s where I wanted to sit, either. He simply pointed at the window seat and told me to sit there like I was a little girl who needed to be told what to do.
Micah was too busy arguing with Logan about the overhead bin to hear him. And he didn’t utter a single complaint about Archer sliding into the middle seat beside me, either.
There’s a lot more legroom in the chartered plane than there is on a commercial flight, but I’m trapped on a plane with my overprotective brother and the man I married while drunk in Vegas. Frankly, I might as well be sitting in my own personal sauna in hell.
My only saving grace is the fact that Micah passed out half an hour into the flight. He’s been snoring ever since.
“Yeah, you are.” Archer cocks a brow at me. “Or I can tell Micah what we really did last night.”
“You wouldn’t.” I gape at him, shock lancing through me.
His wicked smirk tells me that he absolutely would. What game is he playing? Why would he risk telling my brother that he married me?
Good Lord. Where’s calm, cool, collected Archer? You know, the rational one? The devil seated beside me is not the same man I’ve known for the last year. This one is…intense. Actually, he’s always been intense. But there’s something downright smoldering hot about his intensity now that he’s decided to unleash it all on me at once.
Would he seriously risk everything just to get me to spend the night with him? Judging by the look on his face…yes. Yes, he would.
“Fine,” I growl, giving in gracelessly. “You win.”
He leans toward me, getting all up in my personal space. And I want to be so damn mad at him, but he smells like sin and feels even better. It’s hard to keep it together when I feel his breath rasping against my ear.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t love waking up with me all over you this morning, little bird,” he growls against my skin. “I still taste your joy on my fucking tongue.”