Chapter 122

“I’m not sneaking out,” I say right away, matching his glare with one of my own. After all this time, Archer should know better than to doubt me. It irritates me to no end that I can never seem to earn his trust, no matter what I do. “I’m just jogging.”

“You are training,” he says. His glare hasn’t changed. There’s still deep-rooted suspicion in his eyes.

“I’m jogging,” I say. Maybe I am training, but I’m not about to admit it. “I want to be in good shape again.”

I stop talking a bit to steady my breathing again. Neither of us has shortened our strides. We’re keeping a brisk pace. Maybe too fast, honestly, but I’m not about to let up if he won’t.

“Being sick sucks,” I say. “I have to stay in shape, to keep my health up.”

“You are training because you are still hoping to be a warrior,” Archer says flatly. He’s not even accusing. He says it like he’s stating facts.

And… he is, but he shouldn’t know that.

“Look, I’ll be gone in a month…” A few more good strides. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can do whatever I want.”

“Is that what you think?”

“The contract’s almost done, Archer. Were you expecting me to stay forever?”

“Of course not,” Archer fiercely snaps. There’s a bit of a growl in it that makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. It also has other parts of my anatomy reacting…

Gods, I always loved it when he got all hot and bossy.

Should I call him Daddy? Just to see if it elicits a reaction?

No, I won’t. It would hurt too much for him to correct me. It’s much safer to keep my fantasies locked away in my brain where he can’t critique or ruin them.

“You are flush,” he says.

“I’m jogging,” I say, hoping that is enough of an explanation.

He starts slowing down. I should keep the pace, run past him, but I feel like he’s leading into something. I really want to know what it is, so I slow down too, staying at his side.

When we stop, we are on a path through a park filled with trees.

Archer stares first at my face, then down to my breasts, then down to the apex of my thighs. His eyes are heated, even in the darkness. My panties start to feel a little damp.

Shit.

He steps closer to me. I take a step back. If he gets too close, he’ll be able to tell.

He growls as he takes another step. I swallow hard as I back away again.

We continue on this dance a few more steps, until my back hits a tree trunk. Archer slaps his hands down on the bark at either side of me, entirely boxing me in.

He steps closer, lowers his face into the corner of my neck and shoulder and breathes.

“I turn you on,” he says, and his voice has dropped an octave. It’s so deep and growly and sexy. I fucking hate it.

“Don’t sound so smug,” I grumble.

My cheeks are burning. I’m sure I’m as red as a cherry tomato. And my body is still reacting – more so now, with his closeness.

My nipples are forming hard little buds, pressing uncomfortably into my sports bra. There’s not much coverage there. He can see them pushing into my shirt. He looks his fill.

“You like when I’m cruel to you…” he says, and I shiver.

“Not cruel,” I say, because that doesn’t feel like the right word.

Archer hums. “You like when I put you in your place…”

I roll my eyes. He keeps missing the mark.

I try to push past him. “Forget it, Archer. This is pointless. Just let me go.”

He doesn’t, and my efforts to sneak under his arm have him growling louder in displeasure.

And, oops. My panties are even damper.

He grips my arm and pushes me back against the tree. He smells again, and recognition flashes over his eyes.

“You like when I’m rough.” His voice is lust-rough.

Gods, the things I wish he’d do to me in this forest right now. That’s fucked up, right? This guy keeps breaking my heart. What does it say about me, that I keep crawling back, ready to drop my panties and bend over?

I want him to spank me. I read that chapter in my bdsm book. I’m not sure I would enjoy it, but when I think about Archer being the one… When I think of being his bad girl and having him teach me a lesson…

I lean back against the tree and whimper.

Archer’s fingers claw into the bark. Bits of it chips away.

“I should pull you over my knee and spank you raw,” he says. “Then I’d fuck you until you scream. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, slut? You would be such a whore for my cock?”

Those words, so crude. So depraved.

They make me so hot.

I press my thighs together, searching for friction between my legs. I’m so hot, I’m about to implode.

I’m writhing against the tree trunk, wishing he’d step into me and offer me the hard press of his body. But I know, like this, I’m not allowed to take. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to ask.

“Am I right, slut?” Archer stares straight into my eyes. The fire in his has my skin blazing. I’m sweating, and not from the run.

“Yes…” I say, whispering in the dark. The admission feels too real, too much. I’m overwhelmed.

I want him to spank me, to bring me back to the moment… Or to take me further beyond it. I don’t know. It’s all so confusing. I just want more. I want…

“Yes, what?” he says, sharp. “What do you call me?”

Oh, Gods. Here was my invitation.

“Daddy,” I say, and it’s a relief to finally have the word in the air between us, no longer trapped in my lungs.

Archer smirks. “That’s better.”

I agree, so I say it again. “Yes, Daddy.”

He growls this time, long and low. His fingers carve deeper holes into the bark of the tree. He drops his gaze down to my chest. This close, he has a clear view down my shirt. And with the way my nipples are aching, I’m sure what he sees leaves little to the imagination.

“Chloe, I…” He starts to say, but then stops. Suddenly, he straightens. The heat dims in his eyes. He’s hiding from me again.

Trying to chase him, to bring him back, I say, “Daddy?”

But the damage is done. He rips himself away from me, steps backwards three steps, then turns from me altogether. He’s breathing heavy.

“Head back to the house,” he says, and it’s an order.

I usually respond well to those. But I don’t to this one.

Because it’s also a dismissal.

Archer leaves first, running at a full pace back the way we’d come.

I’m left panting and wanting. I’m confused though I shouldn’t be. This has happened before. Archer always pulls away when he gets to close.

As the other feelings ebb, frustration takes all of their places. I’d only planned a short jog, but now I want to run all night. I could run a marathon.

I could run to the next town, the next state, the next planet.

Anything but going home.

I start with continuing to job through the park. When I get to the other side, the path intersects with a street.

I startle when a motorcycle pulls directly into my path. After I stop, the driver tosses me a spare helmet. He lifts up his own visor.

It’s Beau.

Of fucking course it is.

“You look like someone who wants to make some bad decisions tonight,” Beau says, grinning.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His grin grows bigger. “Want to go for a ride, Nanny?”