“This is Everly, my mate,” Archer says to yet another co-worker who already knows who I am. He eyes the man up then glares at him, letting the fifty-seven-year-old, happily mated man know I’m off-limits.
His possessive, territorial words make me grin. He’s been walking—strutting, really—around the office, letting everyone know we’re mates. It’s really freaking cute, especially the way he laces our fingers together and tugs me down the hall to another office. He’s like an excited kid with a new toy he wants to show off.
Archer looks so damn proud to be with me. He’s done a complete one-eighty from the man I knew a few weeks ago. This morning, he woke me up with breakfast in bed, followed by a shower where he insisted he wash every inch of me. When he was done, he licked me to orgasm and t
