23. London
Chapter 23
London
I 'm so fucking mad at Archer right now but he's making it hard as hell to stay that way when he's this close to me.
I know damn well that he was stalking me, that he went against my one fucking wish of giving me some space. I'm not sure how he does it, whether it's something on my phone or he put a tracker on me, or maybe he found cameras inside the building, but he somehow knew that Austin was being a pretentious dick and that he ordered steak.
Yeah, he must have a bug on me somewhere.
Part of me wants to slap him in the face for disrespecting me, but then the other half wants to hug him for being here when I needed him. I didn't expect to actually call him, and yet the second shit started going further than I was comfortable, my hand was reaching for my phone and dialing his number. I wasn't even fully aware it was happening until his voice came through the speakers and then he appeared out of thin air.
Austin was a terrible date. I was only doing it as a favor to Grace and to get a chance to spend some more time with her. Sure, the idea of being wined and dined was nice, I just don't like blind dates. I thought since it was one of Leo's friends, that he would keep decent company, and boy was I wrong. I can't quite get a good read on Leo either. One minute he's a perfect gentleman, and the next there's something off about him, like he's scanning everyone around him, looking for a better option, or maybe just so they pay attention to him. He's conceited, that's for damn sure. And I mean, I get it, Leo is so gorgeous he could have been plucked straight out of a GQ magazine. But it's a hair too much, like he's trying too hard to be something that he's not.
I guess that might have to do with growing up in the foster system, and never having anything of your own. Perhaps I shouldn't fault him for something he might not have much control over. Still, there's this little thing called therapy he could try out to get past that big ego of his.
As long as Grace is having a good time, that's all that matters.
I return to my seat, the memory of Archer's voice whispering in my ear lingering in my mind. His breath on my neck is so fresh I can almost still feel him. I hate that I had only been gone less than an hour, and I was sort of missing him already. I shouldn't, especially now that I figured out I'm the reason Archer is cold and shut off. What kind of person would I be if I pursued something with him after finding out his girlfriend was dead because of me? And it's not as if I could tell him. I don't want to reopen a wound that's clearly still bleeding.
Archer slides into the seat next to me, the one Austin was sitting in only a little bit ago. "I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion," he says.
"You look great," I tell him truthfully. Archer always looks great, no matter what. Even when he's at home, rocking sweatpants and a fitted tee. And now, with him in black jeans and a black button-up rolled onto his forearms, he's especially sexy. Something about the way he barged in here and took control of the situation has me almost forgetting that I'm mad at him, that I'm supposed to be keeping him at arm's length.
I take an unhealthy swig of the cocktail the waiter brings me, ignoring a glare from Archer.
"So," Grace interjects, a lovely break from the awkwardness filling the space. "Tell me how this baking gig is going." She reaches for her glass, sipping a bit of the sparkling liquid and returning it to the table, one pinkie out the entire way.
"It's good," I respond. "Mostly learning the ropes at this point, nothing too crazy. What's been keeping you busy?"
Grace sighs. "Planning this big charity event. We're about two months out and it's a lot of back and forth with vendors, making sure everything is on order and doesn't fall through. We've sent out invites but it's been slower than I'd imagined with donations."
"Is this the Children's Gala?" Leo chimes in, his arm over the back of his chair, the other hand fidgeting with his whiskey glass.
"Yeah." Grace turns toward him. "You familiar?"
"I'll buy a table," he tells her.
"A table?"
"Did I stutter?"
"A table is two hundred thousand."
Leo shrugs. "Do you want me to buy two of them?"
Her eyes narrow like she's not quite sure if he's joking.
"I'll buy one too," Archer adds, his tone unserious. Both of them act as if they're purchasing a ten-dollar sandwich at the local deli.
Grace breaks out into a smile. "Okay then."
I lean closer to Archer. "Are you being serious?"
"Yeah, why?" He reaches for a piece of bread in the basket on the table, ripping a piece off and popping it into his mouth.
I glance at Grace and throw my hands up. "I can't afford a table, otherwise I'd get one, too."
"I could buy you one?" Archer says without hesitation.
Grace laughs. "I think your generosity is enough, Archer. Anyway, won't you need a date?" She side-eyes Leo and I wonder if he's going to get the hint or if he's going to be a dumb boy.
He clears his throat, picking up on it easily. "Will you be my date, Grace McCallister?"
"Hmm." She taps at her mouth. "I mean, I guess a date would be nice…"
"What's a man gotta do? Get down on his knees and beg?" Leo all but puts out his bottom lip and pouts. It's sort of cute watching them flirt, but I can't help but feel like something is off with them. It's too forced, too fake, too inauthentic.
She has more chemistry with Seven, even if she claims she hates him. Although, I'm sure she'd never admit that because she and Seven are truly opposites. Not like Archer and I, but to a more extreme level. Everything that Seven is missing—common decency, empathy, kindness, a moral compass—Grace has in heaps. Things between them would never work. Although I imagine their sex life would be fueled with fiery passion.
My mind floats back to Archer, his mouth on my center in the parking garage, the sensation of his hands on me a distant memory, begging to not be forgotten. I adjust in my seat, my cheeks reddening.
"I'd make you beg," Grace finally says. "But there's no one here to witness it, and what fun would that be?"
"I'd find enjoyment out of it," Archer adds, his gaze doing a double take on mine. He pauses and comes closer. "You okay? We can get out of here."
I force a smile. "I'm good."
My feelings are too fucking conflicted and they're starting to get on my nerves. Can't my mind, my heart, and my vagina decide what they want with Archer before I internally combust?
Under the table, Archer slides his tattooed hand onto my leg, resting it near my knee, his touch setting my skin on fire. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"
I swallow and nod. "Mmhm."
His eyes dance back and forth as he tries to see through what I'm hiding from him.
I place my hand on top of his and give it a gentle squeeze. "Everything is fine, big boy."
"There's my little tornado." Archer's cheeks turn up into a grin and he winks at me, my entire body igniting with a passion I cannot do a damn thing about other than snuff it out.
Three waiters approach the table providing an escape from Archer's torture he doesn't even realize he's inflicting on me. They set various plates around the table, pointing and going into brief detail about which is what, and somehow, I don't hear a single word of it. I just smile and nod politely and wait for them to leave, my head ringing and my core tightening.
Archer scoots his chair in, and I find myself doing the same, copying him without meaning to. He leans in again, this time right next to my ear. "Do I have your permission to touch you?"
I blink at him, confused by his question. "Of course," I respond.
Slowly, he returns his hand to my knee, sliding his inked fingers under the dainty fabric of my dress.
Grace and Leo place some of the food onto their respective plates and dig in, chatting amongst themselves, probably finalizing details about their gala date, or curing cancer for all I know. I can't be bothered, not with Archer's hand tracing a trail up my thigh.
My breath catches as he stops at my panty line, only I'm not wearing any, and he must have just come to this conclusion.
I reach for the glass of water near my cocktail, busying myself with taking a sip while Archer traces his finger along my wetness, teasing my entrance. I stifle a moan when he slips a finger in, my pussy clenching around him, my heart picking up its pace at being this exposed, this intimate, in a public setting.
With complete fucking composure, Archer takes his left hand to reach for one of the appetizers, placing it into his mouth. "This is good," he mutters, grabbing another one and extending it toward me. "You should try it."
My eyes meet his, never leaving them as I obey, opening my mouth and my legs just slightly. Archer carefully places the appetizer into my mouth and shoves his finger in farther, twisting it to apply pressure to the softness of my G-spot. He lingers his thumb over my lip and watches me chew while slowly rocking his hand so discreetly that neither of our table guests seems to be aware that he's fucking me with his hand.
I let out a soft moan, the sound easily passing for satisfaction with the flakey, gooey thing I'm currently chewing. But Archer and I both know my suppressed sounds are for him, and him only.
"You want another one?" he asks me, and I can't quite make out what exactly it is he's referring to. "This is such great finger…food." Archer pops another one of the bite-sized pastries into his mouth. "These are good, right?" He points to the plate, commanding the attention of Grace and Leo, his other finger gliding in and out of my pussy.
The two of them mumble something and motion to the other things on the table that I don't care one bit about.
"I'll take another one," I blurt out and scoot down, doing everything I can not to ride his fucking hand right here and now.
Archer smirks, feeding me once more, only this time, shoving another finger inside of me, too. He positions his hand to cup my pussy, with his thumb resting just along my aching clit, dying for him to apply pressure and finish me off.
I move my hips, trying not to draw too much attention to myself but still devouring the pleasure he's giving me. I have half a mind to unbutton his pants and sit on his lap, filling my pussy full of him instead of his fingers and come undone around his cock, not a care in the world for who bears witness. But luckily, I'm a tiny bit more reserved than that and this isn't exactly the time or place for exhibitionism, no matter how badly I want him.
I'm just glad our seats were positioned ever so perfectly to give him the right amount of access to finger fuck me under the table without anyone knowing.
"Archer, Leo tells me you two used to work together," Grace says, her voice threatening to pull me from my daze.
"Yeah," Archer responds, sending me right back to it with his smooth cadence. "Few years ago. It's been a while since then…" With each word, he strokes me, moving his fingers in a decadent rhythm that's sending me closer, and closer…
Until Archer stops abruptly, his fingers still buried, but unmoving.
"I have to use the restroom, if you'll excuse me." Archer removes his hand, leaving me practically panting with want. He gives me an extended look before leaving the table.
"I hope it wasn't something I said," Grace says.
"He's always getting his panties in a bunch about something," Leo tells her. "Don't worry about it."
I clear my throat. "I'll go make sure everything is okay." I go after Archer, following him into a dimly lit hallway, my sights losing him once I'm down it.
A firm hand catches my waist, spinning me around. Archer pins me against the wall, his body pressed along mine.
Letting out a gasp, I relax into him, my hands tugging at his sides, my mouth desperate to be on his.
Archer holds my face in his hand, skimming his thumb over my cheek. He runs his palm over my neck, his entire grip around it, tilting my head to give him room to leave a trail of his lips behind. I shudder under his spell, aching from head to toe with carnal lust.
"Archer," I whimper.
He returns his hand to my center, hiking up my dress to grant himself access. Archer wastes no time, spreading me open and dipping his fingers in. "You're so fucking wet."
Clumsily, I reach for the waistband of his jeans in my attempt to unbutton them. "Fuck me, Archer. Please?"
Archer pivots out of my way. "Not here."
I loosen a breath and settle for stroking him through his pants, his cock aching through the thick material. At least I know he wants to fuck me, even if he won't.
"Taste yourself," he says, pulling his hand from my center and grazing his fingers over my lips. He pops them into my mouth and I swirl my tongue around them and wish it was his cock in my mouth, not his fingers.
I moan against him and he groans in response, pulling his fingers out of my mouth and putting his tattooed hand around my throat again, no doubt making one hell of a necklace. He applies pressure and I press against his grip, desperate for it to be tighter as our lips meet, our tongues frantic in their embrace.
Out of breath, Archer breaks away and drops to his knees in front of me. "If you're going to come, it's going to be on my tongue, little tornado." He blows warm air on my pussy and I tense in anticipation for what's next.
I dig my fingers into his hair, my head leaning on the wall when his mouth meets my wetness.
Archer sucks on my clit and my legs shudder, the edge so fucking near. With one hand on my thigh, he nudges my knees apart and shoves his fingers back inside of me, spreading me open and filling me full of him. He doesn't bother teasing me any more, yet instead fucks me so hard his knuckles rattle against my entrance. My clit aches with relief on the horizon and I hold on to his hair tighter, yanking him into my pussy as I climax hard and abruptly, biting down on my lip to suppress the scream I want to let out.
He moves his hand until my orgasm settles and I release the hold I have on him. Archer presses a few soft kisses on my pussy before slowly removing himself from inside of me. He licks my slit one final time, like he's making sure to lap up every bit of my juices, and fixes my dress for me. He rises to his feet, his gaze dark through the shadowy hallway as he brings his hand to his mouth and sucks on his own fingers.
In a moment of pure fucking bliss, I move out from under Archer and push him against the wall. "Let me return the favor." I settle my hands over his waistband but don't go any further, not if he truly doesn't want me to.
"I didn't do that for a favor. I did it because I wanted to, and because you needed it."
"Maybe I need this too."I lick my lips. "Please?"
"How am I supposed to say no to that?"
I grin and unbutton his pants, pausing just at the zipper. "Is that a yes?"
"Are you asking for my consent, little tornado?"
"I am." I blink up at him.
He cups my chin in his hand. "You have my consent, now and always."
Something flutters in my chest and I ignore it, focusing on his approval. I go to work, reaching into his jeans and gripping his thick cock, careful to not react to just how fucking big he is. There's no way I can fit him in my pussy, let alone my mouth. Still, that doesn't mean I'm not going to try.
I take him into my hand and lower onto my knees, not caring about the dress that's no doubt ruined by now. Looking up at him, he smooths my hair away from my face and gently holds on to my cheeks.
"Don't be afraid," he tells me. "You can take me."
His reassurance somehow gives me the confidence I need so I inch closer, resting the tip of his shaft on my lips, swirling the precum. I let his cock spread my mouth open, my tongue guiding him in as he groans and grips my cheeks tighter.
My pussy throbs with want but she's already had her turn and right now, it's his time to be pleased.
Archer stays still and allows me to ease him into my mouth, inch by inch. His cock hits my throat and I try again, holding on to him and driving more of his length inside of me. My eyes water and I push through, opening my throat and angling myself better, hungry to swallow every bit of him I can.
"You're doing so fucking well." Archer pivots his hips, fucking my face slowly at first. "So. Fucking. Well." With each word, he picks up his pace and I welcome it wholly, my greedy mouth salivating.
A dish breaks in the distance, stopping us for only a split second before he rams his cock down my throat.
I moan against him, the reverberations making him grow even harder in my already so fucking full mouth. Taking both hands to wrap around the base of his shaft, I twist them around and bob my head up and down on him, my eyes wet but my pussy wetter. I want to stand, to bend over in front of him and take the wrath of his cock inside of me, to let all the emotions and angst we've been building for each other this past month and finally let them come to fruition, but Archer keeps his hold on my face, not giving me a chance to let go.
He throbs, moans, and runs his thumbs along my cheek. "Look at me, little tornado. Look at me when I come down your throat." Archer bucks his hips and pulls me into him, our eyes locking onto one another.
I squeeze his cock and relax my throat as he pounds into me, the noises of him fucking my face not for the faint of heart. How no one has come down this hallway yet, I have no fucking clue, nor would I care at this point.
With one final thrust, Archer makes true to his word, filling my throat with his orgasm. I keep stroking him all the way through it, the same hunger I have for taking all of him no doubt the same he felt for me just moments prior. His entire body quivers and I smile around his cock at having made him, Mister Grumpiest Man Alive, climax.
His hands relax and his chest heaves, his sights still locked on me. "I'm so proud of you." Archer carefully pulls himself from my mouth, my jaw unsure of what to do with all the space he leaves behind.
I swallow him down and lick my lips, somehow still lusting for more.
Archer hooks his hands under my armpits and helps raise me to my feet. "Are you okay? What can I do for you?"
Drunk on our climaxes, I shake my head, my vision a bit blurry from the tears still silently spilling out of my eyes. "I'm great."
He wipes away the rogue waterworks that stream down, not even paying attention to his cock still hanging out of his pants. "Did I hurt you?"
I blink up at him, my senses starting to come around. "I'm fine, big boy. Don't ruin the moment." I trail my finger along the length of him. "You should probably put your cock away, though."
Archer rolls his eyes and fixes himself up, the two of us no doubt looking like we're up to no good. "You said cock."
I raise a brow at him. "Am I not allowed to say cock?"
"Only when you're referring to mine." He presses a brief kiss onto my lips and before I know it, he's slid his hand into mine and is guiding us away from where we were. "Let's get you cleaned up first."
I go along with him because what other choice do I have, but I can't help the strong realization that none of this should be happening. His kisses. Our lust. The implication that we might be a thing. I was supposed to be strong, to withstand whatever uncontrollable pull we have toward each other.
This has to end here. Wecan't take this any further, and I have to be strong enough to not let it happen again.
Only, I don't know if I have the willpower to stay away from him.