Page 74 of Hard Pursuit
He closed his eyes. “You don’t belong in this world.”
“I know.”
His lips hovered a breath over hers. “I hate that you know.”
She drew back enough to search his face. “Then give me something worth missing.”
He made a sound low in his throat that didn’t belong to a civilized man.
Outside the glass, wind drove snow across the mountain in white sheets.
Inside, Archer lowered his mouth to hers and slid home in one slick glide.
* * * * *
Jolie clung to Archer as he moved over her, every thrust driving her deeper into the truth she had been trying not to name.
She was falling for him.
The greenhouse blazed with winter light, fields of snow glaring beyond the glass, but all she could see was Archer above her—hair fallen over his forehead, jaw tight, eyes fixed on her as if looking away would cost him too much.
He braced one hand beside her head and threaded the fingers of the other through hers.
“Look at me,” he demanded, voice rough.
She already was.
His hips drove forward again, slow and deep, and the breath tore from her lungs. The movement wasn’t frantic. It was deliberate, almost punishing in its intensity, each stroke like he wanted to leave himself inside her bones.
“Archer—”
“I know.”
He always said that when he was feeling too much.
She tightened around him and felt the shudder race through his body. His eyes closed for half a beat before he forced them open again.
“You do that on purpose?”
“I can’t help it.”
“Liar.”
Despite everything, she laughed. It changed into a moan when he shifted the angle and found some hidden place that made her body flash hot all over.
He dropped his head to her throat, mouth open against her pulse.
“You’re killing me,” he muttered against it.
“You brought me here.”
“I know.”
“Then suffer.”
That drew a breathless sound from him that might have been a laugh. He kissed down the center of her chest before finding her mouth again, driving into her with a stronger rhythm now.
Dust drifted from somewhere overhead.
