Torn

An Excerpt from CRAVE

Ivy

A KNOCK SOUNDS at the door and I jump, grabbing the robe off the hook with lightning speed. Throwing it on, I approach, figuring it’s Gage ready to tell me something lame before he goes to bed. He’s always been a little overprotective, so he’s probably just checking up on me.

“I’m fine, Gage. Really,” I say as I open the door, stunned silent when I see who’s standing before me.

“Really?” Archer raises a brow, one hand in his pants pocket, the other clutching an article of clothing. “Why wouldn’t you be anything but fine?”

Oh. Shit. He should so not be standing in front of me right now. “What are you doing here?” I whisper, glancing over his shoulder to thankfully see Gage’s door is closed.

“Making sure you’re comfortable.” He thrusts his hand out toward me. “I brought you something.”

I’m ultra-aware of the fact that beneath the terry cloth, I’m wearing absolutely nothing. The impulse to untie the sash and let the robe drop to my feet just to see Archer’s reaction is near overwhelming.

But I keep it under control. For now.

“What is this?” I take the wadded-up fabric from his hand, our fingers accidentally brushing, and heat rushes through me at first contact.

“One of my T-shirts.” He shrugs those broad shoulders, which are still encased in fine white cotton. “I know you didn’t have anything to wear to . . . bed. Thought I could offer you this.”

His eyes darken at the word bed and my knees wobble. Good lord, what this man is doing to me is so completely foreign, I’m not quite sure how to react.

“Um, thanks. I appreciate it.” The T-shirt is soft, the fabric thin, as if it’s been worn plenty of times, and I have the sudden urge to hold it to my nose and inhale. See if I can somehow smell his scent lingering in the fabric.

The man is clearly turning me into a freak of epic proportions.

“You’re welcome.” He leans his tall body against the doorframe, looking sleepy and rumpled and way too sexy for words. I want to grab his hand and yank him into my room.

Wait, no I don’t. That’s a bad—terrible—idea.

Liar.

“Is that all then?” I ask, because we don’t need to be standing here having this conversation. First, my brother could find us and start in again on what a mistake we are. Second, I’m growing increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that I’m completely naked beneath the robe. Third, I’m still contemplating shedding the robe and showing Archer just how naked I am.

“Yeah. Guess so.” His voice is rough and he pushes away from the doorframe. “Well. Good night.”

“Good night,” I whisper, but I don’t shut the door. I don’t move.

Neither does he.

“Ivy . . .” His voice trails off and he clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. Which is hot. Oh my God, everything he does is hot and I decide to give in to my impulses, because screw it.

I want him.

Archer

LIKE AN IDIOT, I can’t come up with anything to say. It’s like my throat is clogged, and I can hardly force a sound out, what with Ivy standing before me, her long, wavy, dark hair tumbling past her shoulders, her slender body engulfed in the thick white robe I keep for guests. The very same type of robe we provide at Hush.

But then she does something so surprising—so amazingly awesome—I’m momentarily dumbfounded by the sight.

Her slender hands go for the belt of the robe and she undoes it quickly, the fabric parting, revealing bare skin. Completely bare skin.

Holy shit. She’s naked. And she just dumped the robe onto the ground so she’s standing in front of me. Again, I must stress, naked.

My mouth drops open, a rough sound coming from low in my throat. Damn, she’s gorgeous. All long legs and curvy waist and hips and full breasts topped with pretty pink nipples. I’m completely entranced for a long, agonizing moment. All I can do is gape at her.

“Well, are you just going to stand there and wait for my brother to come back out and find us like this or are you going to come inside my room?”