16. Archie
16
ARCHIE
I could really get used to this. Goddamn, his body feels good against my own. I hold onto him, almost afraid to let him go, but he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. This is crazy. I know this is crazy and fast—but it’s like we started months ago, even if we didn’t know it.
I don’t completely understand what he means when he says I was dangerous to him and why he was so scared. He obviously knew he was bisexual if he’d been with other men, but something was different about me?
I’ve never been the one to change anyone’s life. I’m a good time—I know that—but it’s not life-changing, no matter how much I may joke about a night with me being just that. Earth-shattering and life-changing—they’re jokes. I never believed them, but when Cane looked into my eyes, I knew he wasn’t messing with me.
He was dead serious, and I really don’t know what to do with that. So I just go along with the rest of the night. Dancing and talking. He fits right in with my obnoxious over-the-top friends, and when the dance ends and people start to filter out slowly—we go with Dutton and Walker to the café to grab the world’s best biscuits and gravy before saying our goodbyes and heading back to my truck.
It’s late, but I’m glad we still have the two-hour drive back to his place because I’m not ready to say goodnight to him yet. We climb into my truck, and I start it up, but he puts a hand on my wrist, making me turn to look at him. “This is probably pretty forward for a first date, but I don’t want to go home yet.”
I blink at him, a lazy smile taking over my mouth. “No?” He shakes his head. “Where do you want to go?”
“Your place.” His answer immediately makes my cock perk up—I mean it’s been pretty hard since the first dance tonight, but it settled down when we were hanging out with Dutton and Walker—thank God. They’d never let me live that down.
“What about Baby and Dolly?”
His smile is warm, and he laughs. “They’ll be fine until tomorrow.”
“Pretty presumptuous of you,” I joke, but I don’t waste time putting the truck in gear and backing out of the parking spot.
He chuckles. “What can I say? Sometimes you just have to presume.”
I toss my head back and laugh, driving toward my house instead of the highway heading to his, a bout of surrealness hitting me. “I’ve never had a guy over.”
I see his brow quirk in my peripheral vision, and despite it being midnight, the town is still lit up with streetlights. “Is that so?”
“Kind of one of my rules. Unspoken, but I guess it protected me.”
“From what?” he asks quietly, no judgment in his tone at all.
“I’m usually the one who leaves the next morning, Cane.” I can’t look over at him right now. I hate that I let him know how badly it hurt when he left me there after our hookup. But I also know that admitting this shows how much of a hypocrite I am. I’ve done that so many times.
“Oh.” His tone is pretty light, and I can tell he’s teasing when he says, “So that’s why you were so upset about me leaving. You wanted to leave me first.”
I snort a laugh, but the truth hits too hard in my chest as I glance at him. “No.” He seems to sober, and I look back out the windshield, paying attention because there are a shitload of deer out here in the country, now that we’ve left the city limits. “I was going to stay with you. It would have been a first.”
I feel his hand on my thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. “I should have stayed.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, wanting to shrug it off and ignore just how badly I wanted to wake up with him that next morning. He’s quiet until we park in the driveway of my simple country house.
I have plans to fix up a couple of things, but for the most part, it’s a great place. No neighbors for miles, a rustic sort of farmhouse with a nice porch, thanks to Oakley.
“This is nice,” he says, sitting in my passenger seat and looking up at my house.
“Wait till you see the inside,” I say and shut off the truck, climbing out as he does the same. I take his hand, leading him up the front porch to unlock my door. I push it open, and we head inside, and my nerves race back through my system. What if he doesn’t like my place? Never worried about that before but never had to.
He walks in, and I flick on the light in the living room, allowing him to see everything while I close the front door behind me. He looks around curiously, and I walk up behind him, placing my hands on his hips. “I like it.”
I grin, pressing my lips to the back of his neck. He turns in my arms, his eyes settling on mine. How is everything so much more intense with him?
“Thank you for letting me into your home.” He places his hand over my heart. “It does matter.”
Damn him. Of course he isn’t just going to let it go.
“Don’t you want to get to the good stuff?” I waggle my eyebrows. “The naked stuff?”
He laughs, his hands settling on the bottom of my shirt. He slowly tugs, and I lift my arms above my head to let him remove the material. His hands slide down my chest and over my abs, his eyes glued to the movement. Mine glued to him. “We can be naked when we talk.”
His eyes raise, and he gives me the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen before his hands go to his own shirt, reaching back and pulling it gracefully over his head to toss it to the floor.
“But you have to know how badly I regret leaving you there in that hotel bed. Not having the guts to face what I knew the moment your lips touched mine.”
It’s hard to focus when he’s standing there shirtless, his abs rippling, and his biceps bulging. He has a bit more chest hair than I do, and I can’t resist reaching out and dragging my fingers over the soft tuft of hair dusting his pecs. “What was that?”
“That you were it. What I had been looking for and what I was terrified of for so long.”
I swallow hard. “Who just says the truth like that?”
He grins and pops the button of my jeans free, leaning in to kiss me hard but keeping it short—way too short. My mouth tries to follow his, but he pulls back, keeping me at bay. “I told myself Evie had to be right for me. Because the hookups were nothing—it’s probably cruel—but they used me too. We knew it was just hookups, but after, I felt kind of empty, even if it felt good during. With you though, it was different.”
I felt it too, but I can’t seem to actually say the words out loud. I reach for the button on his jeans instead and push it through the hole to open them, sliding the zipper down, careful to avoid the bulging erection our conversation has seemed to have dulled. My own answering erection seems to share the sentiment.
“I didn’t want to go back to Evie. I didn’t want to keep playing the part. They expected me to marry her from day one. And I loved her. I truly did.” I unwillingly flinch at that, and he notices, sliding his hand back up over my bare chest and resting it over my heart. “But it never felt like this. Something was always a little bit off. When she mentioned the wedding, I felt sick. When she talked about babies and going to her parents for holidays. Hell, when she mentioned going to the farmer’s market—something always felt forced. I couldn’t place it because it always just seemed like reality—one I was running from since we were teenagers.”
“When you hooked up with women...” I know I probably shouldn’t push it, but I can’t help my curiosity. “Other than Evie, I mean...”
He licks his lips, probably realizing where I’m going with this, and I don’t mean to be a dickhead. I fully believe bisexual people exist, but maybe it felt wrong with Evie because he’s actually gay and terrified. Not that it really matters. “I thought maybe I was gay,” he says, reflecting my own thoughts and dragging my zipper down carefully, pushing my jeans down. I kick out of them and then meet his eyes again, actually wanting to talk—I mean, I wouldn’t mind a blowjob while we’re talking, but I desperately want to hear this. I want to know everything. No matter how messy. “I hooked up with a girl right after my first breakup with Evie, and it was good.” His eyes meet mine with a shy smile. “Like really damn good.”
I think I just growled a little bit, but yeah, don’t love hearing about him with other people apparently. He just chuckles, his hand reaching into my black boxer briefs and wrapping around my thick erection, eliciting a deep moan this time instead of the jealous growl.
“I hooked up with her again. Just once. Casual. And then I got back with Evie.” He starts to stroke me, and admittedly, my concentration wanes a little bit. “But then Evie started talking about getting married, and I freaked. And we broke up.” He does this sexy little twisting motion when he gets to the flared head of my cock, and I groan, leaning into him, placing my hands on his strong shoulder and flexing my hips forward slightly. “And then I hooked up with a guy. And it was good too. Really good.”
Yeah, I’m going to have to get control of this jealousy thing because I growl again, this time nipping his bottom lip before claiming his mouth furiously and letting my hips snap forward into his tight fist.
He moans into my mouth, his other hand digging into the back of my neck and pulling me further into him, his hard cock bumping against my hip through his jeans. That just won’t do. If I have to endure talking about other people who’ve been lucky enough to touch him, I’m going to need him naked. I push his jeans and briefs down, leaving him bare to me, and wrap my hand around his leaking cock. “That’s better.”
“Who knew you were so possessive?” he teases, his lips still against mine as we struggle to breathe, panting erratically. I stroke him slowly, and he groans, his forehead meeting mine.
“Not me.”
“You have nothing to worry about. Trust me.” He presses another soft kiss to my lips before pushing my boxer briefs down, both of us kicking our clothes away and standing there naked, my body revolting against my brain for continuing to talk.
“Go. On.”
“I also hooked up with another girl during that time, but none of it had me needing more from them or really questioning how much I loved Evie. I thought maybe I just needed to sow some wild oats or some shit. I always went back to her, no matter how good random sex with strangers was.”
I nod my head, gripping his cock a little firmer and stroking, teasing the leaking slit and gathering the precum from there. I’m desperate to taste him, but I know I’ll get really distracted then. “Maybe you just weren’t ready to settle down.”
He shakes his head, and his hand stops moving along my shaft. I meet his eyes. “When you kissed me, it was different. Earth-shattering. It was like you were what I was waiting for.”
My heart stutters in my chest, and I drop my hand from his hard cock, making him whimper but hold my gaze. “But you left.”
“I wasn’t ready to face it. It wasn’t just that you were a man—though I knew my family would take issue with it. I didn’t really care about that.”
“It was that I wasn’t Evie...” I supply, and he nods.
“Despite everything, she was my best friend. She trusted me. And that thing that just wasn’t quite right, it got louder and louder after our night together. And then there you were—showing up at the place I was going to share with her.”
“I know I’m supposed to say sorry, but I’m not,” I say with a devilish smirk but with 100 percent sincerity. I can’t regret our night together or thinking fate put us back in each other’s path.
“I’m not either.” And then his mouth crashes against mine. I wrap my arms around him, our hard cocks pressing together, the slick precum leaking from both of our dicks, making them glide easily against each other.
The kiss is desperate and hungry as he grips the back of my hair in one hand and wraps his hand around both of our cocks with the other. I moan deep into his mouth as I thrust my hips forward, sliding against his hard shaft. It’s feral and carnal. There’s no finesse, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve never wanted someone so badly in my life. I kiss down over his jaw and down his neck, sucking hard and pulling deep, guttural moans from him. My hands side down to his firm ass, and I pull him into me each time I thrust forward.
He goes over first, but I’m seconds behind, crying out and biting at his skin as my cock explodes, my cum covering him and his covering me. It’s messy and sexy. So fucking perfect.
I kiss him hard when I start to come down, and he seems to still be trying to catch his breath. When he finally does, he kisses me back, his fingernails digging into my scalp.
“Best first date ever,” he pants, and yeah, I definitely agree.
Though I think the next one is going to be even better.