real thing or not, but Dallas once told me that if you took enough knocks to the balls, it'd damage sperm production or some shit. I didn't know the hard science behind my insults; I just threw them out and hoped one might stick.
Archer just laughed at my threat, and I got the distinct impression I might be in some real trouble.
His hand shot out quicker than I could even track, his arm banding around my waist and jerking me hard against his body. In seconds, he'd pinned me in such a way that not only was I totally incapable of freeing myself, I also couldn't follow through on my threat to reintroduce his junk to my kneecap.
"Let me go," I demanded, frustration coloring my voice with a small scream. "Archer, let me fucking go!"
He lowered his face until our lips were just an inch apart. Water poured down his face and dripped to mine, like we were a Renaissance-era fountain. The tragic, star-crossed lovers, doomed to kill each other before ever admitting their true feelings.
We were pathetic.
"Never," he replied with dark promise. "I'm never letting you go, Kate. No matter what you do, how hard you push, kick, scream, and fight, I'm never, ever letting you go."
His mouth came down on mine in a hard crush, but I wasn't having a bar of it. Not now. Not after those cutting barbs he's just so casually tossed in my direction.
A moment later he pulled back with a snarl of frustration. "Kiss me back, you stubborn bitch."
Somehow his grip on my arm had loosened, and I yanked it free, bringing it up to crack my hand across his face. As wet as his face and my hand both were, the smack landed harder than even I'd intended, making my palm tingle and bringing a pink flush to his flesh.
"Call me a bitch one more time, D'Ath. I'll make you regret the day you ever laid eyes on me." I meant every damn word, and he knew it.
His lip curled in a sneer. "Maybe I already do."
I gave him a bitter laugh in return, rolling my eyes. "Cut the pity-party bullshit, Sunshine. You break everything you touch, then punish everyone around you for your own self-loathing and loneliness. It's no one's fault but your own, so how about you start accepting a little culpability for your fucked up actions?" My words were backed up by a shove to his chest, which gave me enough space to maneuver away from his grip.
Or so I’d thought. He let me go just far enough that I thought I'd escaped, then reeled me back in, tighter than ever, like a spider wrapping its prey.
"What do you think I'm doing?" he demanded in a frustrated growl. "I'm trying to fix things. I'm trying to open up and show my hand. But you... you don't make it easy."
My back was to his chest now, and his fingers banded around my wrists, locking my arms across my chest like a straightjacket. We were both soaked from the rain to the point of dripping, but neither one of us paid it any mind. It was the perfect setting for this explosion of hurt.
"It's easier than you think, you caveman son of a bitch," I snapped back, breathing heavily as I struggled in his grip. "Admit you lied. Apologize. And mean it."
He released me abruptly, almost letting me fall face first into the mud.
"It's that easy, huh?" he scoffed, bitter as a lemon.
I spun around to face him, my arms spread wide. "It's that easy."
My hair was pasted to my face, my arms, and my back like a wetsuit and my makeup was probably halfway down my face, but I felt weirdly free standing there screaming insults at my husband.
He glowered at me like he was seriously cursing the day our life lines had touched. Then he sighed, his shoulders deflating some of that big dick energy away.
"You're right," he finally said, lifting his face back to lock eyes with me once more. "You're right. I lied. I did say that last night, and I meant it. I..." He trailed off like he'd just hit his word quota for the month.
I folded my arms, shivering against the bone-deep chill of soaking wet clothes. "You... what? I'm not a damn psychic, Archer. If you have something to say, it needs to be said out loud."
His blue eyes blazed with determination. "I push people away because being close to me means painting a