I ignore him and look down into blue eyes.
Not green and brown.
Blue.
“Can we help you?” the man asks.
“My apologies,” I say, shaking my head as I glance down at the woman who is most definitely not my cousin. “I thought you were someone I know. Enjoy your evening.”
Fuck.
I walk out of the restaurant and turn toward the hotel. The town is so small, there’s no need to drive anywhere. I thought finding Elena would be easy in such a tiny community. But after two days of looking, that’s proving to be false.
And every minute that I don’t find her only irritates me more.
It’s past time for my cousin to come home and claim her rightful place with the family.
Whether she wants to or not.Chapter 13~Elena~The window’s open. I can hear the water churning below and the seagulls’ calls as they fly overhead, searching for breakfast.
I reach my arms over my head and push against Archer’s tufted headboard, stretching sleep away. I’m quickly getting accustomed to these Saturday mornings off work. It never really bothered me to work every day, but sleeping in once in a while has its perks.
One of the benefits is morning sex. But when I roll toward Archer’s side of the bed, I’m met with cool sheets instead of his warm body.
I open my eyes and sit up, pushing my hair back to glance around the spacious bedroom then out to the deck.
He’s not there either.
I pad naked into the bathroom, and once I’ve brushed my teeth and used the facilities, I pull on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt then go in search of Archer.
There’s still time for a morning romp.
I grin at the thought. When we were younger, morning sex wasn’t something we could indulge in. We never lived together, despite being legally married for just shy of a week.
But now, sex is on the table any time of day, and in the four days I’ve been staying here, we’ve taken advantage often.
It hasn’t quenched my thirst for him. If anything, the regular sexcapades have only made me want more.
I’ve turned into a wanton woman. Well, where Archer’s concerned anyway.
I swing by the kitchen that’s quickly become my favorite room in the house, aside from the perfect balcony where I sit and watch the ocean, and fill a glass of water.
I can hear thumping coming from downstairs, so I follow the noise.
I turn a corner, and there he is, in the workout room, punching a bag that hangs from the ceiling. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants that look as if they’ve been through war. At some point, he cut them off just above the knee. The drawstring is pulled and tied, keeping them low on his hips.
That V that women go on and on about? Yeah, it’s there. Along with a six-pack that would make the gods weep.
I lean against the doorjamb and sip my water as I watch him beat the shit out of that bag. I wonder who he’s picturing in his head as he throws the punches.
Whoever it is, he’s cleaning their clock.
I’d ask him, but he has earbuds in. So I settle in to watch.
He stops punching and, to my amazement, immediately falls down into the push-up position, easily pumping out twenty reps as if it’s nothing at all. He’s breathing hard and sweating like crazy, but his body moves with such fluidity that he makes it look easy.
His muscles bulge as he moves from push-ups to a hanging bar, where he executes ten pull-ups and then turns back to the bag.
Jesus.
Who knew? I mean, his incredible body is obvious. I’ve been with him, naked, several times now. I’ve touched him everywhere. I know what he looks like.
But watching him go through the motions that help to keep him in stellar shape does things to my already overstimulated libido.
So, I set the water on the hardwood floor just inside the door and strip out of my clothes. The motion must catch his eye because he turns my way, breathing hard, sweaty. His eyes narrow on me.
He pulls the buds out of his ears and tosses them aside just before I dash to him and jump against him, wrapping my legs around his waist as I clamp my mouth to his.
“Whoa,” he says in surprise and stumbles back, but catches himself and sits on a bench with me situated on his thighs. “Good morning.”
“Fuck me.” I bite his bottom lip and scoot back on his legs to tug at the drawstring of his sweats. “Right now.”
“Never was good at telling you no.” He grins and helps me work his shorts down his hips. When he springs free, I pump him twice with my fist before rising up and lowering myself over him, making us both moan in delight. “Jesus, babe.”