Two weeks later Archer woke up first. Since he was still on light duty, he hadn’t had to get up at the crack of dawn to work out and then get to the job. He’d have gone ape-shit stir-crazy days ago except for Elle. She’d insisted that he, being incapacitated, needed someone to watch over him. She’d appointed herself the boss, demanding he rest and recuperate and recover by sitting on his ass until the doctor said otherwise.
There weren’t many who’d ever been able to tell Archer what to do. Actually, there’d been no one.
Until her.
And the only reason he let her was because when she bossed him around in that sassy tone of hers, eyes flashing, it turned him on, enough that he sometimes gave her trouble just so she’d give him ’tude. She wasn’t onto him, yet, although she’d been practically sitting on him every day, to keep him quiet and still.
There’d been some noteworthy exceptions of the naked variety. They’d had to be inventive to work around his limitations, but it turned out that, on top of being smart and amazing, Elle was also creative as hell.
But today was to be his first day back into the office. And yet with Elle wrapped around him like a pretzel, suddenly he wasn’t in a rush to get back to real life at all.
Unable to wait any longer for her to wake up, he shifted against her. She stirred, smiling without opening her eyes as he gently rolled her onto her back. Covering her body with his, he spread featherlight kisses along her throat, heading south.
“Don’t you have to go soon?” she murmured, still smiling. Her eyelids fluttered open and her baby blues focused on his.
He ran his hand across the naked curve of her hip before burying his face in her hair. “I’m calling in sick.”
She froze and then struggled to sit up, trying to fight his hands to get a look at his shoulder. “I knew it, you pushed yourself too hard and you’re hurting—”
“Not even a little bit,” he promised, capturing her hands. “I just want you to myself for one more day.”
She met his gaze and gave the slow smile that never failed to rev his heartrate. “Did you have something specific in mind?” she asked.
In fact, he did, and he reached for the remote on his nightstand and hit a switch.
Instantly a fire came to life in the hearth.
“That’s kind of cheating, don’t you think?” Elle asked.
He paused, looking over his shoulder at the flames dancing in the hearth, then back to Elle. “It’s a gas fireplace.”
“I know. But I’d have loved to watch you build a fire with your bare hands.” Her eyes were dancing with humor. “Shirtless.”
He laughed. “And I suppose I should’ve chopped the wood shirtless too?”
She let out a little whimper that had him grinning. “Yeah?” he asked.
“Oh yeah.”
“Well, you’re the boss.”
She grinned and kissed him, a really great kiss, a deep, soul searching, body tingly, brain cell destroying kiss. “Say it again,” she whispered.
He rolled to his back, pulling her over top of him, tugging her face to his. “You’re the boss.” He grinned. “For this one last day.”
This made her laugh. “Just one more day? That’s it? Then you’re going to take a turn?”
“Yeah, then I’m taking my turn. Make it count, Elle.”
She kissed him with such tenderness it made his heart feel like it might burst from his chest. Fisting a hand in her hair, he kissed her back with everything he had, adding a little nip of his teeth and then a glide of his tongue to soothe the ache.
She laughed softly as she straddled him and rubbed up against him until he couldn’t laugh. Hell, he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was hold on and try to show her with his body how much he loved her. He reached into the nightstand drawer and grabbed a condom. “We’ll double up for now, at least until we figure out the high-chair dilemma,” he said, lifting up to press a kiss over her heart. Then he turned his head slightly and kissed her breast, lingering until she sucked in a breath.
“I love you, Archer,” she whispered and sank over him until he was deep inside her.
Flooded with intense pleasure as he rocked up into her, he gripped her tight, almost unable to believe they were finally here, in this very spot, doing what he’d dreamed about every night for years. “Fuck, Elle.”
“Yes, please.”
With a choked groan, he slid his hands into her hair, holding her head so that she couldn’t look away as they began to move against each other. He began to drown in her eyes and he reared up to nip at her full bottom lip, taking control, making her melt into him as he buried himself into her over and over, holding her gaze in his, seeing everything she felt for him. He groaned her name, which sent her into a shattering orgasm. She was still shuddering when he thrust into her one last time and followed her over.
When she caught her breath she lifted her face from the crook of his neck. “I do have one last demand.”
“Anything,” he said, and he meant it. At that moment he’d have signed over everything he had to her, everything he would ever have.
“Love me,” she whispered.
“Forever, Elle.”
An Excerpt from Lost and Found Sisters
Did you love Archer and Elle?
If so, be sure to check out the other books in the Heartbreaker Bay series!
SWEET LITTLE LIES
THE TROUBLE WITH MISTLETOE
and the special holiday novella ONE SNOWY NIGHT
Available now from Avon Books and Avon Impulse!
And read on for an exclusive sneak peek at Jill’s first trade paperback!
LOST AND FOUND SISTERS
Coming Summer 2017
Chapter 1
I walk around like everything is fine, but deep down, inside my shoe, my sock is sliding off.
—From the mixed-up files of Tilly Adams’s journal
Here was the thing: Life sucked if you let it. Quinn Wellers worked really hard to not let it. Caffeine helped. For up to thirty-eight blissful minutes it could sometimes even trick her into thinking she was in a good mood. She knew this because it took forty-eight minutes to get from her favorite coffee shop through LA rush hour traffic to work and those last ten minutes were never good.
That afternoon, she got into line for her fix as always and studied the menu on the wall even though in the past two years she’d never strayed from her usual.
A woman got in line behind her. “Now that’s a nice look on you,” she said.
Quinn looked at her. It was Carolyn, a woman she’d seen maybe three times in her life, all right here in line at the coffee shop. “Excuse me?”
“The smile,” Carolyn said. “I like it.”
Quinn didn’t know whether to be insulted or flattered. She smiled all the time. Didn’t she? Okay, so maybe she forgot to smile lately. “I’m pretty desperate for the caffeine today,” she said.
“Nectar of the gods,” Carolyn said conversationally. Something about her reminded Quinn of an elementary school teacher with her gray streaked hair pulled back in a messy bun, the glasses perpetually slipping down her nose, expression dialed into sweet but slightly harried. “You’re up,” she told Quinn, gesturing to the front counter.