Chapter 26
Archer
Six weeks later
“You can bring them in here,” I say as I drop a box full of cutlery on the counter. The delivery guy carts in a load of furniture on a dolly as I pull out my phone to text the others.
Archer: The chairs are here.
Freya: That was fast. How do they look?
Archer: They look like chairs wrapped in plastic.
Julian: Smart-ass.
Grinning down at my phone, I laugh to myself.
Archer: Okay fine, I’ll open them and let you know.
Freya: Make sure to count them. There should be fifty-two.
Archer: Relax, Chef. I got it. I can count to fifty-two.
Archer: If it was fifty-three, we’d be in trouble.
Freya: Ha. Ha.
Julian: You’ve taken too many punches to the head.
Archer: Don’t you worry about my head, fancy pants.
Julian: Oh I’m not. You give great head.
Freya: You two stop it. I’m busy.
Archer: Let us know if you need anything before tonight, Chef.
Julian: You got this, Freya. Don’t stress.
Julian: Archer, be ready by five.
Archer: I like it when you’re bossy.
Neither of them reply, so with a grin, I pocket my phone and watch the delivery guys bring in the rest of the chairs. After I’m finished here, I have to run back to my place to get ready for tonight.
Julian invited me to his parents’ anniversary party but never quite clarified if his family knows I’m his boyfriend. It shouldn’t really bother me, but it’s stuck with me all week. It feels like if I was his date, he’d say it.
I don’t care. Not really.
It’s just…
If I’m not his date and neither of them are ready to accept what this is, will they ever be?
These past six weeks have been a dream. I haven’t been to a single fight.
My face has actually had time to heal, which is a rarity.
And I don’t have that overwhelming need to punch something or feel the impact of a fist against my jaw.
Rex’s ears must be burning, because his text comes in as soon as I lock up the restaurant for the night.
Rex: Look at this guy.
I click the link as I walk, and it pulls up a video of a guy who appears to be my size and age. I like his style. He fights with a cocky grin, and I imagine what it would feel like to punch it off his face.
Rex: What do you say? I can get him on the books tonight.
Archer: I’m sorry, my friend. I have a date tonight.
Rex: After your date.
All I have to do is remember the sound of Freya’s screams and the fear on Julian’s face as he begged me not to make him watch that again. And the decision is easy.
Archer: No, man. I’m sorry.
Rex: You quitting on me?
Archer: I’m just telling you I have plans tonight.
Rex: You have plans every night.
I let out a frustrated sigh. Rex has been my closest friend and by my side for over a year now. I feel like an ass letting him down, but I just don’t need this fight anymore.
Archer: I’m sorry, Chunks. I don’t know what to say.
He doesn’t respond, and it leaves me feeling pretty fucking crummy. When I get back to my apartment, I jump in the shower, and the entire time, I can’t shake the conversation with Rex and how bad it feels to let him down.
I know Rex loves the fights and cares about me as a friend, but I worry that he’s also depending on these fights as a source of income. Then what? If I send him some cash to make up for it, he’ll take it as an insult and never speak to me again.
By the time I finish getting ready, I’m late. Julian is banging on my door, and I’m still buttoning my shirt. Rushing over to let him in, I stop dead in my tracks as I take in his appearance.
Julian Kade always looks good. On any given day, he looks as if he was sculpted out of bronze as a tribute to one of the gods on Olympus.
But tonight…
Tonight, he’s in a deep blue, double-breasted tuxedo, tailored to perfection.
A vision of effortless opulence. The fabric—sleek, weighty, and undoubtedly expensive—only enhances the sharp lines of his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The tux, the ornate silver jewelry adorning his neck and fingers, the silk peaked lapels.
It’s a display of understated wealth, not ostentatious arrogance.
“God damn,” I mutter, letting my hands hang by my side.
“What?” he mutters, glancing down at his appearance.
“I was going to put on a suit and stand by your side, and now somehow that feels like a crime.”
“Oh, shut up,” he says with a roll of his eyes as he enters my apartment.
“You’re a fucking work of art.” Letting the front door close, I face him and drop to my knees.
When he turns to find me kneeling for him, he shakes his head. “Stop it.”
“Step on my face.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” he replies, unable to keep the laugh from his soft, pink lips.
“Please tell me we have time to fool around.” I reach for my still unbuttoned pants and quickly work them down my thighs.
“Archer, no,” he barks with a smile. “We do not have time.”
“Actually, we have no choice,” I argue, gesturing toward the already thickening cock in my tight black briefs. “If we don’t get rid of this thing now, I’m afraid it will be a problem all night.”
He steps up to me, giving me a look of pity. As his fingers run through my still wet brown curls, I tilt my head back as if I can bask in the warmth of his gaze.
“How about this? I’ll take you to the place where I used to make out with the girls and boys that I snuck into my parents’ house.”
I growl at the thought. Then I quickly hop to my feet, pop a kiss on his cheek, and stuff my neglected cock back in my pants. “Deal.”
Julian’s parents live in a sprawling mansion in Paris’s 16th arrondissement. It’s stunning and massive, but what I find the most impressive about it is that they somehow found a way to make it a cozy home.
Standing in the middle of the large living area, I spy a display of framed photos on an armoire in the corner.
While Julian is distracted, talking to a couple I don’t know, I sneak away and look at each one.
Grinning to myself, I pick up a photo of young Julian with light brown hair and tiny round glasses on his face.
His dad is holding him in one arm, smiling up at him with love while Julian laughs.
“What are you doing?” he mutters from behind me.
“You wear glasses?” I ask. “I want to see you in glasses.”
He takes the photo from my hand and sets it back down on the mantel. “I got corrective surgery.”
“Bummer,” I reply with a smirk. “Do you bleach your hair?”
He runs his fingers through it self-consciously. “Yeah, why?”
Without answering, I stand upright. Biting his bottom lip, he keeps himself from smiling, but I can’t take my eyes off him. Suddenly, I remember that ice prince I met in an elevator one night who seemed like the last man on earth I’d ever fall for, and now look at us. He is my drug of choice.
“I’m obsessed with you, you know.”
He rolls his eyes and glances around to see if anyone can hear us, which they can’t.
“I’ve noticed,” he grumbles, but it’s fucking adorable how much he tries to look unaffected by my compliments. But then his eyes carefully track upward until they meet mine. With a sigh, he leans into me, our bodies flush as he whispers, “I’m obsessed with you too.”
My grin nearly splits my face in two. “I noticed. Jesus, Julian, get a hold of yourself. It’s so obvious.”
He pokes me harshly in the chest, dimples piercing his cheeks as I lean in and kiss him quickly on the mouth. But instead of pulling away in frustration, he leans back into me and takes my mouth for a longer, still chaste kiss.
As we pull away, I ask, “Have you heard from Freya?”
“No,” he replies, pulling down his cuffs and immediately adopting his usual mask. “Amelia said everything was going well and that we shouldn’t bother her.”
“That’s no fun,” I complain.
“Julian, sweetie,” a beautiful older woman says in a motherly voice as she approaches him.
He turns toward her, and I watch the moment his cold, emotionless exterior melts away again to reveal a warm, loving man.
“Mom,” he replies before wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. “Happy anniversary. Where’s Dad?”
“Oh, who knows? He was showing Matis something he wants to add to the garden.” As the woman’s eyes find me standing here, they widen with interest. “And who’s this?” she asks as she puts out a hand.
I can see the moment Julian’s spine stiffens. “This is…Archer Wilde. Archer, this is my mom.”
A little part of me withers inside at that introduction. Just Archer. Not friend. Not boyfriend. Just Archer.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” I say as I shake the woman’s hand.
“You too, Archer,” she replies, a touch of disappointment on her face as well. “Thank you for com—”
“My boyfriend,” Julian blurts out.
His mom and I both freeze and stare at him as he shuffles his feet.
“Mom, this is my boyfriend, Archer Wilde. Archer, this is my mom.”
I do my best not to laugh because I don’t want him embarrassed by this little slipup. Instead, I turn to his mother with a warm smile. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
She appears downright giddy with this development. Clasping her hands in front of her chest, she looks at me with renewed interest, as if she wants to scream and announce my presence to the rest of the party.
“Mom…” Julian says in warning as he notices her stifled excitement. “Don’t freak out.”
“I’m not going to freak out,” she replies with a tight-lipped smile. “It’s just…so nice to meet you, Archer.” With that, she takes my hand and starts shaking it vigorously.
The three of us stand around as Julian pinches the bridge of his nose. Eventually, his mother is pulled away by another guest. When Julian and I are left alone, he holds a cold expression while I’m fighting a smile.
“Not a word,” he snaps, and I make a zipping motion across my lips.
“You said you were going to show me your secret place, remember?”
His cold blue eyes meet mine for a moment before he grabs my hand and glances around suspiciously. Then he tugs me down a long hallway that leads to a set of stairs. We hurry up them, me behind him. The sound of the party in the distance starts to grow quieter the farther we go.
When we reach the second floor of the house, he continues down a long hallway that dead-ends with a large window. Releasing my hand, Julian pries open the window and turns back to me with a smirk. Then he climbs out carefully and gestures for me to follow.
Climbing out, I realize we’re on a private veranda.
From up here, we have a clear view of the Arc de Triomphe and Eiffel Tower in the distance.
As I rest my hands on the side of the low wall, Julian approaches from behind me.
His nose slides up the back of my neck, breathing me in as I reach back and tug him closer.
My cock stirs with excitement. Julian and I have taken our relationship slowly. Honestly, we all have. Sometimes, I think he treats me like a live grenade about to explode, and I treat him like a fragile piece of glass that could break if I’m too rough.
Julian’s hands slide down my chest, finding the button of my trousers. I don’t know exactly what he has planned here on this veranda, out of sight on a cold, nearly spring evening, but I’m ready for anything he has. I’d give him everything.
I’m still riding high from that introduction to his mom. I’m dying to hear him say it again.
When he gets my pants undone, he reaches a hand inside and wraps his delicate fingers around my hard length. I moan, leaning back against him.
“Your hand is like heaven,” I mumble as he continues to stroke me. His lips devour the side of my neck, warming me against the cool air.
“My hand? Is that all you want?” he teases, his silky-smooth voice against my ear.
“I spoke too soon,” I stammer.
“Because if you think my hand is good, then I’d hate to see what my mouth would do to you.”
I cover his hand with mine, stroking my cock along with him. “You are too pretty in that tux to get on your knees for me, fancy pants.”
He squeezes my cock painfully, and I hiss.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” I joke with laughter, and he releases his grip.
As he continues pumping my cock and drawing me to the brink, his hips grind into my ass, and I feel the hard proof of his arousal driving into me. A question lingers between us, one that has been nagging me for the past two months, and I wait for him to voice it.
“Have you ever bottomed?” he whispers in my ear.
I swallow before turning my head toward him. “Yes. Have you?”
He nods.
Staring up at the stars, I breathe in the perfection of this moment. “Julian Kade,” I say with a grin. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
He chuckles. “Can you take nothing seriously?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“I’m just…trying to figure out how to navigate this.”
His hand leaves my cock, so I spin around and grab him by the waist, tugging him toward me.
“I’ll tell you how we’re going to navigate this,” I say, bringing him closer to kiss his pretty pink lips.
“We’re going to snatch up our girl from the kitchen and leave this party early.
Then we’re going to go to that kinky club of yours.
There you can tie me to that wall or whatever you want to tie me to and fuck me in all the filthy ways you’ve been dreaming about. ”
In the moonlight, I make out the pink tip of his tongue slipping through his lips to wet them before leaning in and kissing me again. His kiss is fierce, nibbling on my lips with enough pain to make me wince.
“Let’s leave now,” he says against my mouth.
I laugh as I kiss my way along his razor-sharp jawline. “We just got here.”
“I know, but I like your plan better.”
“Me too,” I hum against his skin.
“But at least for now…” Letting his words trail, he stares into my eyes as he drops slowly to his knees. My lips part and my breath hitches as I watch him move his mouth to my aching cock.
This perfect, impeccable man kneels for me, and it feels like a miracle. The fact that it feels anything at all is a miracle. I could get used to this. No more fights. Just this and them in this city.
Forever.
Normally, that word suffocates me. But maybe it’s the feel of his sinful mouth on my cock or the twinkle of the tower in the distance, but forever doesn’t feel so scary anymore.