17. Shane
Chapter 17
Shane
Normally, I didn’t hate going home alone. Even after a hookup I was fine to do my own thing. Tonight my house seemed emptier than usual. With the lingering effects of Archer’s touch on my skin, I should have been fine. Scratch that. I was fine.
It didn’t matter that I’d started to miss him the minute he went upstairs. He’d clearly stayed up to see me. Letting him go to bed without a fuss seemed the least I could do.
I hung my keys on the keyring by the door and toed out of my shoes. The last thing I wanted to do was to wash the vestiges of him off my body. But I was aware that I smelled like sex. Maybe one day soon I could convince him to come back here for the night.
That train of thought only made me want to kick my own ass. I already had no business fooling around with Archer, and I shouldn’t make it worse by doing shit like bringing him home. But the fantasy was already taking shape in my head. Of course, there’d be the incredibly hot sex we’d have. But after, I could hold him and sleep next to him. It had been a long time since I’d woken up next to anyone.
I told myself that the odd ache in my chest was heartburn. Acid reflux caused by the mere thought of sharing my bed with someone else. And not a foolish man wanting more than he should. I’d already been given so many good things by life and luck. Asking for one more felt obscene.
Stepping into my bathroom, I turned the water on and adjusted it so that it was hot, but wouldn’t peel the skin off my bones. The bathroom filled with steam as I stripped out of my clothes. I laid my suspenders on the counter and my stupid dick twitched at the sight of them.
Scrubbing my hand down my face, I let out a groan. “I suppose I’m going to get a hard-on now every time I see fucking suspenders.”
As if to prove my point, my dick rose to half-mast. I ignored him. He’d done fine without any attention earlier; he could suffer.
I stepped into the shower and closed the door. Bracing my hands against the wall, I tipped my head forward and let the spray beat against my back. Hot showers were usually where I had some of my best ideas, but all I could think about was getting back in my truck, driving across town, and crawling into bed with Archer.
Having him sit at the bar and talk to me earlier was nice. Comfortable. He was naturally courteous of the fact that I was at work, and though he sought my attention, he didn’t demand it. Mickey probably guessed that something was going on between us, but he wasn’t the type to stick his nose in other people’s business. But I didn’t want to put him in a position where he’d have to lie to Cyrus. Cyrus had taken to Mickey like a duck to water. I still thought it was because Mickey thrived when people fussed over him, whereas Archer bristled.
Archer liked being the one calling the shots. Case in point, the tattoo he’d won earlier that night. I had no fear that he’d put something on my body that I’d hate. I trusted him, probably too much for someone I’d only recently met, but I couldn’t help myself when it came to Archer Kinsman.
Water was wet. The sky was blue. And I trusted Archer with my body. The things he made me feel, the freedom he gave me, it was all more than I’d ever hoped to find. I hadn’t been kidding when I said people thought I was a top just because I was tall and could sprout a five o’clock shadow by ten in the morning.
Some men had accepted it, but we hadn’t been a good fit. Or they told me they were fine with it, only to turn around a few weeks later and try to convince me to top. Just this once. The old anger was enough to kill my boner and I spent the rest of the shower scrubbing my body. I hated feeling like I was washing Archer’s touch off my body.
Maybe we could get tested and go bare, and then I could keep something of him inside me. I reached back and gently prodded my rim. It was tender, but not in a bad way. It felt used, but Archer had been good with his hands and generous with the lube, and even with the punishing pace he’d fucked my ass with, he’d been careful not to harm me.
I turned the water off and got out of the shower. While I dried off, I tried to think of the best way to ask him about going bare.
Hey, so your art is amazing. I can’t wait for you to tattoo me. How about we ditch the condoms so you can fill my ass because if I can’t take all of you home, at least I could take some of you home.
Yeah, that wasn’t weird at all.
I climbed into bed naked and sprawled out in the center like I always did. If Archer stayed over, I’d have to choose a side of the bed. Or not … it was a big bed. There was room for me to sleep in the middle and Archer to take either side.
Sentimental was a stupid look on me, so I rolled over and let sleep come for me. I was one of those gross people who could lie down and fall asleep as if on command. My brothers hated me for it and growing up it hadn’t seemed like much of a talent when you were always the first one conked out at sleepovers .
The morning brought only sunshine, but no glowing moment of clarity. My feelings for Archer were still muddled with my need to be loyal to Cyrus and our friendship. Sleeping on it hadn’t given me any answers, only a burning need to see Archer. I still wanted him despite knowing I shouldn’t. That didn’t matter to me. My brain and my body were both full steam ahead when it came to Archer.
Though I showered the night before, I had another. I also trimmed the scruff on my face down to a manageable length. I rarely took it off completely. I wasn’t primping for Archer. If I were, I’d have worn another pair of suspenders. I splashed on some cologne my little brother Brodie sent me while on one of his travels and headed out the door. I had enough time to stop and grab coffee and breakfast for us before I texted Archer that I was on my way up.
He greeted me with a cocky smile and a hungry gaze. His eyes lit up when he saw the tray of drinks and the bag of food.
“Oh, you’re a life saver. My coffee machine didn’t survive storage.”
I stepped into the apartment and Archer shut the door for me. I set our breakfast on the counter. “I didn’t know how you take your coffee, so it’s black. And I didn’t know if you preferred sausage or bacon breakfast sandwiches, so I got both.”
Archer stepped into my space and rose up onto his toes to brush a kiss against my mouth. He lingered for a moment. “Something smells amazing, and it’s not breakfast. Why do you smell so good?”
“Brodie sent me cologne.” I tried to pass it off like it was no big deal. Wearing cologne and bringing breakfast, but Archer’s approval made me feel like I was walking on air.
He gave me a final onceover. “I like it,” he said before grabbing the black coffee and dumping two creams and two sugars into it.
I unbagged the breakfast sandwiches and Archer grabbed one of each .
“I’ve yet to meet a meat I didn’t like.” He unwrapped the sausage one first and took a bite.
We ate standing up in his kitchen. I hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before and I’d been starving. I should have had a snack after our activities downstairs, but I hadn’t thought of it. My mind had been consumed by him. It still was.
Once we finished eating, I finally looked around the space. More art hung on the walls and his tattoo station was set up on the other side of the room. Archer had stacked binders of his past work on his coffee table.
“It looks great in here.”
“Thanks. I have my first clients next week.”
“Really? That’s awesome.”
“It’s nothing huge, just a pair of sisters wanting small matching tattoos, but it’ll be good to be working again.” Archer motioned to the couch. “Have a seat and let’s talk tattoo.”
When I sat down, it didn’t escape my attention that he sat at the other end of the couch from me. That was fine. This was a professional appointment, after all. So what if he kissed me, and sniffed me, and told me I smelled good? That didn’t mean he wanted to climb into my lap to show me his ideas.
Archer cleared his throat and set his coffee down on the table. “First, I want to assure you that I don’t plan to hold you to the agreement from last night.”
“You could if you wanted. It’s just a tattoo.” It was more than a tattoo to me now, but I didn’t want to admit that out loud. Or otherwise. “I trust you, but if it makes you feel better, we can agree on some rules.”
He bit his lip, then nodded. “I think that would be best. ”
“Okay, so no names, nothing derogatory, and I don’t care where you want to put it, but I draw the line at having my dick tattooed.”
“A temporary tattoo could be fun for a dick tattoo, though.” He shot me a grin to let me know he was kidding and unstacked the binders on the table. “I have a ton of flash. The time away from the chair was put to good use at least. I have so many pieces that I can’t wait to do. Have a look at these and see if you like my style. There’s pictures of finished pieces in the red binder.”
“I’m okay with you choosing what you want on me. And where.”
Archer gave me a pointed look and I opened the binder.
His work was good. Better than good. But I knew that already from the pieces he’d hung on the walls in the space. He liked line work and had a great eye for detail. His shading was good and I loved the way he worked with color.
“I’m glad you’re choosing what to put on me because I have no idea what I’d pick. You’re really talented.”
“Thanks. But I’m still going to run the final design by you.”
“That’s okay by me.” I closed the binder and set it back on the table. “Where did you want to put it?”
Archer grinned at me and I could tell he wasn’t thinking about tattoos. “Well, I have some ideas about that.”