Chapter 25 London #2
"What about…j’ai envie de verser ce champagne sur ton corps et de le lécher, goutte à goutte, jusqu'à en obtenir chaque morceau?”
My core tightens at hearing the French roll off his tongue so easily, despite having no idea what he's saying. It's sexy either way. "I got the I want to and champagne, and drop by drop. What else was it?"
"Maybe you should brush up on your French," he teases and takes a bite of his pizza slice. "Good call on the pizza," he mumbles.
"You have to admit, this is better than going out." I eat some of my pizza, too, the cheese melted perfectly, and the sauce has the best balance of sweet and garlicky.
A horn blares in the distance, and the lights of the city pollute our view, and still, I'd rather be here, with him.
"I'm not mad about it," Archer says, his intense stare meeting mine. "So tell me, Miss London, what brings you to New York?"
I smile at him. "Is that what we're doing, pretending we don't know each other?"
"We're on a first date, that's a first-date question."
"Mmm." I swallow the bite in my mouth. "Well, I come here for work. You see, I'm a traveling magician. Gigs all over the country. I'm just passing through, really. Won't be here long."
"A magician, ey?"
You have something I could make disappear, I think, my perverted nature getting the best of me.
"Why did your cheeks just flush?" he asks me, seeing right through my facade.
"My mind was in the gutter," I admit.
"Let me guess…" Archer puts his finger to his chin, tapping it before continuing. "Were you thinking about making something disappear?"
My mouth drops open. "No fair. Can you read my mind?"
He laughs and I can't help but laugh too, everything about him contagious. "No, but that's hilarious."
"Are you sure you can't read my mind?" I persist, unsure how he knew with such accuracy.
"I can't. I'm just perceptive, that's all. I pay attention…to you."
"You pay attention to everything." I take another bite of my pizza.
"I do, but I watch you a little closer."
"Tell me something then, what do you see?"
Archer's expression darkens and he readjusts in his seat.
"I see a woman who's strong, but afraid.
Broken, but whole. Someone who's hiding something, because she's afraid if someone saw her for who she really is, they would leave, because that's what everyone else has done.
They've left. Viciously loyal and hopelessly romantic, whether she'd admit it or not.
She sees the best in people, even when they don't deserve it.
She has her walls up, understandably. Surprisingly optimistic if not a bit cynical. You're a paradox in the best way."
I hate how transparent I am, that he was able to pick up on all of that in a month of living together. I know I'm not exactly a mystery, but I thought I was leaving something to the imagination. Archer got me spot-on with everything, even the things I haven't been willing to admit to myself.
"At the end of the day," he says. "We all want to be seen, to be validated. It's human nature."
I shrug, trying to play it off like he didn't completely call me out. "I mean, you're not completely wrong."
"You're saying I was wrong? About what? I'd love to know." Archer takes a drink of his champagne. "This ought to be good."
"Okay, fine, you weren't wrong. Is that what you want to hear?" I blurt out.
A huge smirk breaks across his handsome face. "Was that so hard?"
"Painful, actually. Don't let it happen again."
"I'm not often wrong."
"And neither am I." My heart sinks at the reminder that what we're doing here, no matter how good it feels, can't last. I should tell him this, go ahead and rip the Band-Aid off.
But there's a stronger part of me that wants to see this evening through and pretend like it can last, if even for one night.
"Now that we've established you're a traveling magician who wants to make something disappear, tell me more about yourself."
"Hey now, since when do you get to ask all the questions?"
"Kill a man for loving to hear you talk."
"You wouldn't like it if I started yapping, trust me."
"I'll be the judge of that." Archer eats more of his pizza, waiting for me to continue.
I roll my eyes. "Only child, I think. Knowing my dad, though, I might have a sister or two out there."
"Why not a brother?"
"Because if I had a brother, my father's one goal in life would have been accomplished. He wanted an heir. I didn't count, being a girl and all. We're worthless aside from what we can offer with our bodies."
"That's…that's terrible, London. I hope you don't believe that."
"I mean, considering I heard it nonstop my entire life, it's hard not to think it from time to time.
" I chew at the inside of my lip, a million thoughts wanting to come out of my mouth.
I've never spoken candidly about my father and the true relationship we had.
I've mentioned it here and there to the people who know me, but no one really knows what he did to me, what he forced me to endure. It's enough to drive a person mad.
The thought of Seven comes to mind, the way he acts, the carelessness to his actions.
If I were wired differently, perhaps that's how I would have become.
From the little I've heard about Archer and his siblings, there's no telling the torment that Seven went through.
Maybe his actions are justified because of the trauma he's experienced.
Maybe it's a cry for help because he doesn't know how to process his emotions otherwise.
He's quite unlikable, but it's hard to hate him with everything considered.
We might be more alike than we are different, and that alone scares me.
Archer reaches forward, latching his hand onto mine.
"Hey." His voice is soft and reassuring.
"I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and I am so attracted to you it hurts at times.
But I don't care if we never get intimate again, I value you way more than what you can offer me with your body.
This isn't transactional, London. Do you understand? "
I nod and will my eyes not to water any more than they already are. "I understand.” I say those two words despite struggling to wrap my head around what he's telling me.
This entire date was such a bad idea. The more I get to know him, the more I want him, and not in a temporary way.
I can't begin to count how many times our entire life has flashed before my eyes.
Us annoying each other every single day, him washing my hair in the sink, me making sure he eats, stealing kisses in the kitchen, walking hand in hand to the grocery store, no longer ignoring the passion and chemistry between us.
He rubs his thumb in a circle on my hand, letting out a breath before releasing me. "If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here to listen. Don't feel obligated. I'm here for you, in whatever capacity you need me to be."
We spend the rest of our dinner talking about lighter subjects—music we like, movies we've seen, places we've traveled.
It's strange how many times our paths have crossed and yet we never met until now.
I'm sure there would be even more connections if he knew who I truly was, but I'm not ready to cross that bridge yet, so I keep that information to myself, locked away for a time when I'm ready to let him go.
I'm not convinced that day will ever come.
I eat two large slices of the pizza and Archer finishes off the rest of it, making sure to offer me the last slice at least eight times before taking it for himself.
I sit back, holding the flute of champagne, the bottle almost empty and my body warm from the buzz.
I'm nowhere near drunk, but I feel good.
"Oh, I have one," Archer says, snapping his fingers. "Would you rather have no taste or be colorblind?"
"No," I say loudly. "Both of those are terrible. Ugh, I guess be colorblind. What about you?"
"Colorblind for sure, I still want to be able to taste you." He winks at me and it makes me tingle more than the champagne already was.
"Let's take this up a notch…" I tap my finger on the table. "Would you rather give or receive?"
Archer scoffs. "That's easy. Give."
I picture his hands on my thighs, his face buried at my center, his tongue caressing my entrance. "Would you rather sleep with someone on the first date or wait for six months?"
"You skipped me, little tornado. You're bad at this game." Archer licks his lips. "Six months is a long time…"
The implication of his answer hits me in full force, my mind reeling at how far I'm willing to take things.
I've wanted him since the very first frustrating moment I saw him, but I don't want this to go further than anything we can come back from.
Sex complicates things, and things are already so fucking complicated between us.
"It is," I say, unsure of what to do next.
"Would you rather always have sex with the lights on or off?" Archer asks me, picking up where I left off.
"Lights on."
"Would you rather have sex in the bathroom or the kitchen?"
"Both?"
"Would you rather have sex in the bedroom?"
"Or what?"
Archer stares at me for a long moment, the wheels in his head turning so much I can practically see them. If only I knew what he was thinking. "Tell me what you want, London." His chest rises and falls at a quicker pace.
"What?"
He stands, comes around the table, and leans against it with one tattooed arm. "Tell me what you want." The last word is almost a growl, my pussy clenching with desire.
"I want you," I whisper. "I want all of you."
"I'll give you anything you want."
"What happened to you not wanting to be intimate? What happened to valuing me more than what my body can offer?"
He looks at me so intensely it’s like he’s staring right into my soul, his eyes hauntingly dark. "I worship you, London. If you say no, I'll drop it right now. You call the shots, not me."