The cowboy reaches around the ranch hand and grabs his junk, stroking him over the fabric of his jeans. The ranch hand’s head lulls back on the cowboy’s shoulder. I picture it perfectly in my mind. I’ll bet Archer’s big strong hand would have a tight grip.
I realize my growing problem will soon need to be taken care of. I dry off and climb back in bed. After another couple of pages, I’m imagining it’s Archer unbuttoning my flannel and tying my hands behind my back with rope.
I reach for my nightstand and grab my vibrating, black silicone prostate massager. I slather it in lube and lie back with my legs spread. I insert it slowly and then turn it on. Fuck, that feels good. Having to abandon my book, I continue the fantasy in my head while pumping in and out with the massager and with my other hand, stroking myself.
I’ll bet he has a big dick with thick veins and a large crown. It’d probably hurt at first, but I wouldn’t care. I’d welcome the burning stretch because the one giving it to me is the sexiest man alive. I picture him fucking me from behind, using my roped hands as leverage.
My body shudders from head to toe and I come all over my hand, calling out Archer’s name. I clean up and climb back into bed, my mind and body exhausted.
Archer may have friend zoned me, but my fantasies do not care even a little.
Archer
“Good morning,” I say when Sara comes out of her room. I got up with the kids this morning so she could get a little more sleep. I was also hoping it would ease my guilt when I ask if I can take off for the day. I know she doesn’t expect me to be here all the time, but she shouldn’t be alone in this.
“Hey. Thanks for taking care of these guys.” She kisses both syrup coated kids on the cheek. “You didn’t have to get up with them.”
“I know. But you work late and we actually got to bed early last night, so I was up anyway.”
Sara pours coffee and takes a seat at the kitchen island. The bruising under her eyes has gotten worse since I arrived and I’ve felt her pull back a lot since the day we fought about what Chad did to her on his way out. I decide now is as good a time as any to have the conversation I’ve been dreading.
“Kids, go wash up and head out back to play.” I clear their plates and like the awesome kids they are, they do as I ask. When they’re gone, I take a seat next to Sara. She keeps her eyes downcast into her murky coffee cup. “I think we need to talk.”
“About what?” She spins her cup in circles, her leg bouncing rapidly.
“About what that Jax guy said. Did Chad hurt you?”
“He got a little out of control. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have dumped all his stuff on the front lawn. It was hasty and dramatic.”
“Did he hurt you?” I place a hand on her leg to stop the motion.
“Obviously he did or Jax wouldn’t have been called out.”
“Was it the first time?”
“Why does this matter? He’s gone. Do you know he hasn’t even tried to call the kids? Poor Lou keeps asking when his daddy is coming back to play basketball with him and I don’t know what to say.” A giant tear tumbles down her cheek and lands in her coffee.
“You tell him that his dad is making bad choices and you don’t know if he’s coming back. But, Sara, if he does, I swear to God, I’ll beat his ass.” The rage I have for any man who lays a hand on a woman is nothing compared to the man who laid a hand on my sister.
“I just don’t know where he went. Or what I even did to make him leave in the first place. I thought everything was good. I mean, I know I could’ve been a better wife, but—”
“Don’t give me that shit, Sara. You have two small kids. Whatever happened, he didn’t have to step out on you and lock you out of your bank account. That’s seriously fucked up.” I jump to my feet. Needing something to do, I take her tear infused coffee and dump it. Then I pour her a new cup and set it in front of her. She’s crying even harder now.
“You know he cancelled his cell phone? I don’t even have a way of reaching him.”
“You tried? Why would you do that, Sara? The best thing that asshole could’ve done is leave.”
“No, it’s not. I can’t do this on my own. Taking care of the kids all day, working all night, laundry, cooking, shopping, it’s too much for one person.” She rests her head in her hands, full-on sobbing now.
“That’s why I’m here. We survived our childhood and we’ll survive now.”
“You don’t get it. I don’t want to just survive anymore. This was supposed to be my happy ever after. You and I suffered so much as kids so we could have happiness as adults.”
I sit down next to her and clasp her hands in mine. “This is one more hurdle we have to jump. It’ll get better, I promise.”
“I don’t think it will. I think this is my life and I don’t want it anymore.”
I study her, trying to figure out just how serious she’s being. People tend to say things like that, but don’t mean it. They’re just overwhelmed. Sara wouldn’t leave Emmy and Lou motherless, so it must just be the hurt talking.
“I know it feels like that now. Just hang in there. Those kids need their mom to fight for her happiness.”
“I’ve fought my whole life, Archer. Now? I’m just really tired.” Her shoulders slump, like even the small amount of energy to keep her body upright is too much.
“You trust me, right?” I tip her chin up.
“You’re the only one I trust in this whole world.”
“Then believe me when I say it’ll get better. I just got here. You haven’t given me a chance to fix anything yet.”
“Okay,” she agrees.
“Okay? You’ll hang in there? Keep going?”
“Yeah. Besides, someone has to stop you from buying dairy. I saw cheese in my fridge.” Her lips tip up, but just barely.
“I told Emmy it was spicy so she wouldn’t touch it.” I walk over and tear a paper towel off the roll and hand it to her.
“Smart thinking.” She blows her nose and dabs her eyes.
“Kian wants to have brunch this morning.”
“You should go.”
“He said he’d bring it here and make enough for all of us.” I offer because if she doesn’t want to be alone, I’ll make sure she has company.
“No. You go. The kids have eaten and I’m a mess. I think I’ll put some laundry in and then have a lazy day. I don’t work tonight, so I have nowhere to be.”
“You sure?” I look for any sign of dishonesty.
“I’m positive. Matter of fact, I’m going to stay in my pajamas all day.” She brushes down her flannel PJs with the palms of her hands.
“Okay. I’ll go say goodbye to the kids before I leave.” I open the back door, but Sara calls me back.
“Thanks, big brother.”
“Anytime.”
Brunch with Kian is an experience. He has wooden boards with sliced fruit and French toast sticks, dipping sauces, cheeses, nuts, and I don’t even know what else, sitting on his kitchen island when I walk in. It looks way too pretty to eat.