Snowbound with the Santas (Forbidden Fantasies)

23. Rayne

23

RAYNE

I spend the entire next day with Archer.

Unable to sleep, I’d been restless with thoughts of my turbulent past. Facing down the prospect that I was rapidly falling for these men and that they adored me in turn, I had to consider one terrible, daunting fact.

Ashton would run his mouth the second he found out.

The alternative is that I tell them first. While pacing the kitchen, playing out those conversations in my mind, Archer came across me. Rather than asking me what was wrong, he invited me out for the day. I said yes on a whim, thinking that being out in the snow would help clear my mind and distract me from my thoughts.

We left early, and Archer took me out in the truck.

It pains me to see how easy driving in the snow is now. It means that any day now, the call will come through that the hiking trail down the mountain is safe, and then they’ll return me to the ski lodge. The thought twists my gut into knots, and not even a flask of Archer’s tea can ease them. He drives a little way down the mountain in his truck until the path narrows, and then we have to walk the rest of the way.

He takes me through the forest toward a rushing river that weaves between trees and rocks. I contemplate whether it’s connected to the water pool Nick took me to yesterday, but those thoughts don’t have a chance to linger as Archer puts me to work.

We check all the fishing nets and traps, and luckily, we find quite a few fish. Archer takes care of killing them humanely, then he shows me how to pack them into the coolers with snow on the back of the truck. It’s tiring work, but there’s something thrilling about knowing I’m having a hand in what we’ll be eating. Archer then leaves to go and check the hunting traps, something I definitely don’t have the stomach for.

I spend the rest of the morning packing in the fish and making sure all of the coolers are securely attached to the truck. When Archer returns, he makes me sit in the truck while he loads up the rabbit that he caught in the trap. It’s sad to think about it, but I understand the need for hunting when this far up the mountain. And they only hunted for necessity.

“We need to make one more stop,” Archer says as he pulls off his gloves and tosses them into the truck. “Come on.”

“Both of us?” I ask, hopping down from the seat.

“Yup.”

“And it’s okay to leave the truck here?”

He shoots me a stern look. “Who the fuck is gonna steal it?”

“I don’t know,” I bite back, bristling slightly. “What if we get lost?”

“We won’t get lost.”

“How do you know?”

He glances at me once more. “We won’t get lost.”

Rolling my eyes, I have no choice but to follow him, so I settle into walking behind him, placing my steps into his steps as he strides through the snow with purpose. We walk for ten or so minutes and approach a dark cave surrounded by trees so thick that it almost feels like the edge of the world. Archer ducks down and is about to head inside when I catch the back of his coat.

“Wait…”

“What?” He pauses and glances over his shoulder at me.

“We’re going in there?”

“Yes.”

“But it’s so… dark.”

“Do you trust me?” Archer straightens up.

After a quick thought, I nod.

“Good. Now come on.”

He moves into the cave, and I follow, keeping one hand on his arm the entire time. We walk for all of thirty seconds, but it feels like a lifetime in the darkness and my heart begins to pound. Suddenly, the cave opens out wide, and the area is filled with a strange blue hue which I can’t pinpoint its source.

Archer strides toward the edge of a large pool of water and begins to strip off his clothes. Just as I get flashbacks to yesterday with Nick, Archer pulls out his flashlight and turns it on. Then he aims it at his waist where a large red laceration streaks blood down his body.

“Archer!” Everything else is forgotten and I rush forward. “What happened?”

“Tree branch,” he states. “Slipped.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s fine. Happens all the time.” Archer barely even seems to feel the wound as he pulls a small packet from one of the many pockets of his cargo pants. “Here.”

He hands it to me and leans back against the rock he’s chosen to sit on. I stare down at the packet, confused for a moment.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

Archer lifts one brow and sighs. “Can you clean it for me and then place the gauze over the top? It’ll do me until we get back and I can stitch it.”

I roll my eyes. “You know, if you’d asked me in the first place, I wouldn’t have wasted time asking you.” Dropping down to my knees, I unpack the wrapper and find a starchy cloth along with some gauze and tape. “Is this water safe?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Rather than replying, Archer dips his hand into the water and raises it to his mouth to drink, but I don’t watch him drink. I’m too distracted by the sudden explosion of color that bursts through the water. An array of colors sparkles out from his hand, and each droplet of water from his hands creates its own color explosion.

“What in the…?” As the colors dance and then begin to fade, the blue aura of the cave increases briefly.

“It’s the bioluminescence of the water,” Archer explains. “You’ll see it in a few caves around here.”

“And it’s safe?”

“Perfectly.”

I have no choice but to believe him. Dipping the fabric into the water, I watch the colors for a few seconds then I begin to clean the wound. Archer hisses suddenly and his entire body tightens.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he grits out.

“You could tell me something to distract yourself.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” I sigh sharply. “You’re always so difficult. Why don’t you talk about that?”

“I’m not difficult.”

“Really?” I snap softly. “Because I think the only time I’ve heard you not be grumpy was when you gave me that massage.”

Archer is silent for a moment. “I don’t mean to be,” he finally says. “It’s… habit.”

“Clearly.”

“You’re a gentle person, Rayne. I’m not. I’m harsh.”

“Because you were a soldier?”

“Partly.” He shifts against me as I clean his wound. “I saw a lot of people die. Part of me died with them, I think. Then I came back here, fucked up and burned, and had to watch Frankie crumple. His brother’s death was… hard.” Archer talks in quick bursts with a tight voice. “So I’m protective. And… the more people I know, the more people I stand to lose.”

“So you act like an asshole?” There’s no real heat in my words as I apply the gauze. “To keep people at arm's length?”

“Maybe.” Archer grunts, then glances down to check my work. With the wound across his ribs, he’ll need to be careful. “Thanks.”

“Wow, a thank you?” I tease. “Next time you need help, just ask me. Although I’m not sure why we had to come here to do it.”

“I wanted to show you the cave,” Archer says as he stands up. “You liked the lights so much, I thought you’d want to see natural ones.”

Our eyes meet, and suddenly, it clicks in my mind. This was a sweet gesture.

Or it was supposed to be, but Archer got injured and his military way of dealing with everything took over. I can’t blame him. I can’t fathom how difficult it must be to go through something like he’s been through and still try to be a regular person afterward.

“I like this,” I say softly, placing my hand in the water and watching the ripples create more light and color. “I like it a lot. Though maybe next time, don’t be such an asshole about bringing me here.”

I turn my head, and suddenly, Archer’s mouth collides with mine. The kiss is so sudden, and I gasp, nearly overbalancing, so I grasp onto the hem of his shirt and pull him toward me. He isn’t the anchor I expect, though, and I fall backward with him landing on top of me, so I laugh against his lips.

“You know, you don’t have to steal a kiss, either,” I say, gazing up at him when he braces himself on his arms. “I’m happy to kiss you.”

“Thought I was an asshole.”

“You wouldn’t be the first asshole I’ve kissed.”

There’s a flash of something in his eyes, something I can’t quite read, and then he dips down to kiss me again. This time, it’s softer, and I melt into him with a soft sound. He kisses firmly, and yet there’s something almost uncertain about it too. Like he can’t fully trust himself or the situation.

So, I let him lead. Everything else flees my mind when he kisses me deep and skims his tongue into my mouth. If anything, maybe one last fling isn’t a bad thing. If my reality is knocking at the door and I’ll have to return to a life I hate, the least I can do is go with a few sexy memories.

The cold keeps most of our clothes on, but I burn hot when Archer slides his hands into my pants and thrusts two fingers deep inside me. He kisses me continuously, mapping out my upper and lower lips, then stroking my tongue with deep moans rumbling through his chest. His fingers are incredibly skilled, and with just a few strokes and flicks of his thumb, he has me a panting, desperate mess on the ground. I kiss him deeply, run my fingers through his hair, and bite his lower lip the moment he enters me with his thick cock.

Everything is too hot and tight at the same time. Clothing gets in the way, and the cold air against my bare thighs is striking, but I’m desperate. I want to show him that I’m here just as much as I want to get one more taste of this stoic, silent man. He seems to have a similar desire as his hands roam my body where they can reach and each kiss is deep and powerful.

We fuck quick and dirty, letting our bodies say the words we can’t—or won’t—say. I lose myself in the stroke of his cock and the talented fingers that write a love poem over my clit. I can’t breathe from desperation, and it’s never quite enough. He’s not deep enough, not fucking me hard enough.

I vocalize exactly that, and Archer turns into a machine. He pounds every thought and breath out of my body, tearing off our clothes at the same time. I have little concern for the cold when we’re both burning so hot from desire we could stoke our own fire. As he fucks me closer and closer to orgasm, Archer picks me up and holds me in his lap, then he slides into the water, which is surprisingly warm.

From this angle, he can fuck me harder, and I come with a cry to the sparkling, beautiful flurry of light exploding through the water. Archer follows a moment later and hugs me to his warm, broad chest while his cock twitches inside me and he pants harshly against my shoulder.

“Wow,” I breathe when thought returns to my pleasure-addled mine. “Maybe I should call you an asshole more often.”

Archer, to my surprise, laughs roughly and kisses me hard. “Yeah. Maybe you should.”