Playing Dirty in Alaska Teaser

“You think you have what it takes to address my mood, Archer?”

He smiled again, slowly, and nodded. “Since you like things straightforward, yeah Bridge, I’m fairly sure I do.”

Fuck. She’d walked right into a zero-sum game. A sexual stare down. The only thing worse than continuing to play would be losing. Disentangling from him, getting to her hands and knees, she blew her bangs out of her face and smirked at him with a confidence she didn’t feel. At all. “What did you have in mind?”

“Lady’s choice.” He sat up, rested an outstretched arm on his upraised knee, as relaxed as if they were in the middle of a summer picnic. “I’m versatile, as I hope you recall.”

Bastard. How dare he push memories of them together into her mind? Rejecting them, she crawled over to the ottoman. “How about right here and now?” Bracing her forearms on the leather, she leaned forward and knelt there. It was the least sentimental, most down-and-dirty position she could manage given her current limitations. It was also a tactical error, she realized, when he got to his feet and stood behind her, silently informing every cell in her body that she’d put herself in an utterly submissive pose. Brazening though, she looked over her shoulder at him. “Does this work for you?”

“As long as it works for you, it works for me.” But he didn’t move.

Not enjoying the power dynamic in the least, she said, “You’re all talk.” It came out testy. This whole stupid thing had gone sideways on her. She pushed up onto her elbows, preparing to rise.

That’s when he moved. Hallelujah. But did he kneel, unzip, drag her pajamas down and get on with it? No. He braced his hands on either side of her arms. He planted his feet on either side of her ankles, and then he slowly lowered until his entire body covered hers. His knees bracketed hers. His forearms rested alongside her own. His chest, hips and thighs surrounded her like a shield. His bigger, stronger frame dominated her smaller, slighter one. But she didn’t feel dominated, not even with his cock a hard, insistent ridge against her ass. She felt…protected, desired, possibly even cherished. Alarm bells went off in the part of her brain in charge of self-preservation. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Addressing your mood.” His low, playful voice vibrated through her inner ear, making her shiver. He must have felt it, because he eased his arm around her, splayed his hand across her middle and held her closer. “Okay?”

“Uh-huh.” It was all the response she could produce. Places inside her started to tremble, and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Not really. All he’d done was breath words into her ear. She pressed her forehead into the leather, moving the susceptible passage out of his range.

The hand on her stomach angled down. Her thighs clenched. Something low in her belly coiled uncomfortably tight. She closed her eyes and bit her lip.

“You’ve got that fresh-showered smell again. Soap and woman. You know what that does to me.”

She smelled fresh? He smelled like something too complex for an adjective like ‘fresh.’ Cool rain. Warm skin. Her most thrilling moments. Her most damaging mistake. It all blended together into a scent that could only be called Archer.

He slid his hand lower, long fingers sneaking under the waist of her PJ’s. “Don’t you want to get me naked?”

His laugh fanned the nape of her neck. “More than anything, but you’re not feeling your most exquisite, so I’m just going to touch you instead.”