Archer's Voice (A Sign of Love Novel)(94)

Oh God, he thought something had happened to me. "Oh Archer, I'm sorry, so sorry. My phone got ruined. I'm sorry. I dropped it in a puddle in front of McDonalds. I'm sorry," I cried into his chest, gripping his shirt. "I'm so sorry, Archer baby. I didn't have your number… so stupid. I should have written it down. I'm so sorry. Archer, I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm so sorry."
We held each other this way for what seemed like hours, his breathing returning to normal. His body stilled and his grip loosened on me until he finally sat back and looked into my eyes, his own still filled with torment, with something that looked very close to grief.
"I'm here," I whispered, brushing the hair off of his forehead. "I'm here, Archer."
He brought his hands up. I had almost forgotten what it feels like, he said, suddenly looking lost, like a little boy. My heart beat hollowly in my chest, breaking for the man I loved, so petrified of loss that his mind had checked out in order that he could deal with his agonizing fear. Oh, Archer. I stifled a sob. The last thing he needed right now was for me to lose it.
"What what feels like?" I whispered.
To be completely alone.
"You're not, baby. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here."
He looked at me then and finally, smiled a sad smile. This is that burden I was talking about, Bree. This is what the burden of loving me looks like.
"Loving you isn't a burden. Loving you is an honor and a joy, Archer." I used my voice to talk to him so I could keep gripping his thighs with my hands. The contact felt important–not just for him, but for me. "You couldn't talk me out of loving you if you tried anyway. It's not a choice for me. It's just a truth."
He shook his head, looking lost again. If you hadn't come back, I would have lay here until I died. I would have just willed myself to die.
I shook my head. "No, you wouldn't have. It feels like that, but you wouldn't have. Somehow you would have had the strength to go on. I believe that about you. But you don't have to, because I'm here."
He shook his head. No. I would have just faded to dust, right here. How does that make you see me? Do I seem strong to you? Am I the kind of man you want? He looked into my eyes, begging me to tell him what he wanted to hear, but I didn't know what that was. Did he want me to tell him he was impossible to love? Did he want me to tell him I wasn't strong enough to love him? That the reassurance he needed from me was too much?
He pulled me to him and after a few minutes we moved over and lay down on his bed. I kicked my shoes off and pulled his quilt over us.
I listened to Archer's quiet breathing right at my ear, and after a few minutes, I closed my eyes too. We fell asleep facing each other, arms and legs entwined, our hearts beating a slow, steady rhythm.
Sometime later, when the midday sun was lighting the edges of the shade over Archer's bedroom window, I awoke as he pulled my jeans down my legs and my shirt over my head. He moved his hands over my skin as he closed his eyes and kissed me, almost as if he needed the constant contact to assure himself I was truly there with him. When I wrapped my legs around his hips and held him tightly, the look of relief that passed over his features was almost heart-wrenching. He moved inside me with deep, powerful thrusts, and I dropped my head back on the pillow, sighing with pleasure.
The pleasure rose higher and higher until I tipped over the edge, breathing out his name as my body shuddered in release. A few seconds later he followed behind me on two last jerky thrusts and then pressed deeply inside me as he stuck his face in my neck and just breathed there for several minutes.
I ran my hands up and down his back, whispering words of love in his ear over and over and over.
After a few minutes, he rolled to the side and gathered me in his arms again and was almost instantly asleep.
I lay there in the dim light of his room, listening to him breathe. I had to pee, and my thighs were sticky with his release, but I refused to move. I knew instinctively that he needed me right where I was. After a little while, I fell back to sleep too, my face next to his smooth chest, my breath against his skin, my legs entwined with his.


**********


I woke up later and I was alone in bed, and the sun had moved in the sky. The light around the border of the shade was now muted and golden. Had we slept all day?
I sat up and stretched, my sore muscles protesting with my movement. I didn't think I had moved at all–wrapped in Archer's vice grip.
I looked up as he walked in the bedroom wearing a towel around his waist and rubbing another one through his hair that had already grown a little longer, starting to curl up slightly in the back and flop over his forehead a little. I liked it.