His Ballerina

Don’t get me wrong. That steely, strong body of his isn’t exactly a bad thing. I’ve done more than my share of enjoying it over the past month, in just about every way possible.

He’s done his fair share of enjoying, too. The man does things to me that make my nerves sing and my lady bits quiver. He plays my body like a fiddle and hasn’t gotten tired yet of learning every inch of me.

How did I get so lucky?

Right now, there are other questions on my mind. Such as why we’re taking this drive through the suburbs, maybe a half-hour from the apartment I’ve lived in ever since the night Archer took me home with him.

“Can’t you sit back and enjoy a beautiful day?” He’s teasing me, the jerk, and he’s loving it. I can tell from the way his mouth twitches at the corners.

“You’re impossible.”

“That’s not what you were saying when I bent you over the kitchen counter last night.”

Just like that, I’m wet. All he has to do is say the words. That, plus the memory of him bending me over the counter and taking me—hard, fast, almost brutal—is enough to make me consider asking him to pull the car over so we can go for Round Two in the back seat.

He’s basically turned me into a sex fiend. Not that I’d ever complain.

“You weren’t being an obstinate jerk last night.” I yank my hand away with a pout, but I don’t mean it. Being with him is fun no matter where we are, no matter what we’re doing.

And the more time I spend with him, the more I love him. The playfulness he only shares with me. His sense of humor. His way of looking at the world.

The way he treats me like I’m the most precious thing ever born. The way he holds me so tenderly and plants gentle kisses over my cheeks and forehead and nose even when we were both screaming and sweating and fucking like there was no tomorrow only a few minutes ago.

There are two sides to this man. The one I met that first night, the one who kills without mercy. Then there’s the side I’m with right now, the one who loves to get a rise out of me, who even tells corny jokes sometimes to make me laugh because he knows what a sucker I am for a bad pun.

Because he loves hearing me laugh.

Like I said, I have no idea how I got so lucky.

He slows down in front of a gorgeous colonial flanked by a pair of regal oak trees. “Wow,” I sigh. “What a house.”

“It’s nice, huh? Looks like it was just sold, too.” He points to a sign on the lawn.

“Lucky them, whoever they are.”

“Hey.” He takes my hand, running his thumb over the knuckles. “Are you unhappy at the apartment?”

I know how seriously he takes my happiness. Like he’s personally accountable for it. “No, not unhappy. But a house? That’s always been a dream, you know? I mean, obviously, I’ve never had one of my own. I used to watch TV shows where people lived in houses like this, and I’d imagine what my life would be like if I had a home.”

“Come on. Let’s do a little imagining.” He’s out of the car before I can even put two thoughts together, jogging around to my door.

“No way!” I’m shaking my head even as he helps me out of the car. “No, we can’t do that. This house belongs to somebody. It’s illegal.”

“We wouldn’t wanna break the law or anything like that, would we?” He’s being sarcastic, of course, since he doesn’t exactly live by the letter of the law. “Nobody will care. They haven’t moved in yet if the house was just sold.”

But still. It feels downright wicked, walking across the lawn and taking a peek inside the house. There are two picture windows, one to either side of the red front door, and roses grow in the beds underneath. I always did want to have a garden.

“Wow, look at that living room. It’s huge!” And there’s so much light from the front, side, and rear windows. I can see through to the kitchen and what looks like a breakfast nook by the windows looking out over the backyard.

Through the other window, we can see what looks like a study or an office. I always wanted to have one of those, too, just for the sake of having somewhere to curl up with a good book on a rainy day.

I don’t realize I’ve sighed until Archer leans in and kisses the back of my neck. “What’s the sigh about? You sound sad.”

“No, not at all. Just… it would be nice to have something like this.” His arms wind around my waist, and I smile. “But I have you, so I already have everything.”