Chapter 38 Rule #38 There’s only one way to truly reunite.
Archer
“No, really,” Rex mutters from the front seat. “Let me out here.”
Now that we’re far enough from the danger and the police, Lucien pulls to the side of the road. I don’t even know what part of town we’re in, but I don’t have to worry about Rex. He’d find his way home blindfolded.
“But you’re bleeding,” Freya says with concern, making Rex chuckle.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.”
“Let me have a word with him,” I murmur to Julian. He nods as I climb out of the car, meeting Rex on the sidewalk. We’re both wearing blood and bruises, but I feel fairly confident that after that whole incident, he doesn’t hate me so much anymore. “Listen, I’m—”
He holds up a hand. “I’m not your boyfriend. I don’t need you to apologize.”
I shrug with a wince. “I’m gonna do it anyway.”
“You always were a stubborn asshole.”
“Rémy, I’m sorry,” I say plainly.
He flinches, glancing up at me when I use his real name instead of his fighting name.
“I shouldn’t have just abandoned you because I got a new boyfriend…and girlfriend.”
Clearly uncomfortable with any sort of vulnerability, he grimaces, staring out at the street. “No worries, Archer.”
“Can we still be friends?”
His grimace turns into disgust. I’m really torturing him with this.
“Knock it off,” he barks, shoving me in the shoulder. “Of course we’re still friends.” Then he shoves his hands in his pockets before adding, “You were gonna take the L for me.”
“I was not,” I argue. “You were winning fair and square.”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, and I can’t hold in my laughter. “I’m out of here.”
As he starts to walk off, I grab him by the shoulder and pull him back toward me, wrapping my arms around him for a hug. After a moment of hesitation, he wraps his arms around me and pounds a fist on my back.
After we part, he nods toward me. Then he walks away.
“Hey,” I call after him. “Freya’s restaurant opens tomorrow. You should come.”
He glances back with a shrug. “Okay. I will.”
After my friend is gone, I climb back in the back seat with Freya and Julian. The rest of the ride is quiet. There’s a lot we need to say to each other, but not now. Not tonight. I’m too busy feeling grateful that they’re even here. They came for me.
Last night was a close call.
For the first time, I almost lost for real.
When we reach our apartment building, I put my hand out for Julian, and he slips his long, soft fingers against mine, and it feels so good I make a promise to myself never to let him go again.
That mingled with Freya’s warm body nuzzled against my chest as we walk inside is like heaven. Julian says something in French to his driver, and the only parts I can pick up are “thank you” and “I’m sorry.”
The doorman opens the door for us as we stroll inside, heading straight for the elevator.
It’s late now, past midnight, but I’m not tired, and I assume neither are they.
There was too much adrenaline tonight to feel tired now.
I’ve run the gamut of emotions today—anger, fear, more anger, loneliness, panic, and oh yeah, more fear.
Right now, I just want to bask in this gratitude.
Julian punches his thumb against the button for the elevator, and it opens immediately with a quiet chime that echoes in the quiet lobby. This elevator is now hallowed ground to us, and as we step inside, it feels like coming home.
The moment the door closes, we turn on each other as if we can all feel it. In a perfect circle, we only hold each other, breathing in how it feels to be together again. The love between us is sacred.
The ride to the top floor is short, and when the doors open again on Julian’s floor, I don’t feel ready to leave this embrace. Clearly, neither are they, because no one moves.
When the doors close again, Julian slams his hand against the red hold button, freezing the elevator in place. Then he turns on us with frenzy in his eyes.
A frenzy I know we can all feel.
My hand latches around the back of his neck, hauling his mouth to mine. I kiss him with ferocity, nibbling on his lips and sucking eagerly on his tongue. He mewls and moans into my mouth.
Coming up for air, I reach for Freya next, burying my hand in her hair and dragging her pretty, soft lips to mine. Her kiss isn’t any gentler or any more inhibited. She is just as ravenous for me as I am for her.
I’d like to strip them both down right here and have my way with them in this elevator. And when Freya practically leaps into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist, it’s clear she feels the same.
Julian and I squeeze her between us as our lips tangle messily. I just need them in any way I can have them, and while I can acknowledge that fucking in this elevator isn’t quite realistic, I’m too hungry for them to care about that now.
Freya is rubbing her eager cunt against me as Julian kisses the back of her neck. Julian’s hands travel up the front of her shirt, massaging her breasts as I kiss a line along her jaw.
“Both of you. Inside. Now,” he mutters in a sexy command. He hits a button, and the doors of the elevator open.
Rather than set Freya back on her feet, I hoist her over my shoulder and carry her out of the compartment. She squeals excitedly as we follow Julian into his apartment.
Being back here after the fight we had last night is jarring. I glance down at the floor as if the ring I tore off and tossed away would be waiting for me, but it’s not.
We don’t stop in the living room or kitchen. Julian leads us directly into his bedroom and then into the bathroom. “I need you both naked immediately.”
After he starts the shower, he disappears from the room. I set Freya on her feet and stroke a gentle touch across her cheek. She grips my hand, her hesitant eyes lifting to meet my face. “Archer, I—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I say, but she only shakes her head.
“Yes, I do.” Her voice squeaks as she starts to cry, and I gather her in my arms. She doesn’t seem to care that I’m still sweat-soaked and bloody. Her arms wrap around me lovingly, her petite shoulders shaking against me as she cries. “I was scared,” she sobs.
“So was I.”
“I told my mom everything, and I won’t ever do that to you again.”
Her cheeks are soft in my hands as I lift her face up to mine. “I’m sorry you had to do that alone.”
“Me too,” she replies. “But that was my own fault.”
“And how did she take it?”
With a smile, she shrugs. “Wonderful. She likes you. I mean…who wouldn’t?”
Gently, I press my lips to hers, because sometimes kisses say what words can’t. Things like I love you. Things like it’s okay. Things like I’m here now.
“I thought I told you two to get naked,” Julian says from the doorway to his room.
With a chuckle, I help her out of her shirt. As I unsnap the back of her bra, my mind briefly questions if perhaps I forgive too easily. Should I have demanded more of an apology or a promise that it won’t happen again?
My heart says no. Because maybe my heart knows that coming back isn’t something I do often. Sticking around isn’t normally my style, but here I am. I’ve pushed away my parents, my brother, my best friend. I don’t want to push Julian and Freya away.
They are not the ones I run away from. They are the ones I run away to.
Julian is stripping off his shirt and pants. Desperate to be free from these clothes, I reach behind my back and tug off my T-shirt. I can’t seem to get naked fast enough.
By the time the three of us step under the spray, it’s like the elevator all over again. We’re all feral and desperate for each other’s touch. Freya wraps her arms around my neck, her wet, naked body against mine.
With her lips against my ear, she whispers, “I want you to do to me what you did to Julian.”
My eyes widen with understanding as her words seep in. “No, Frey. You don’t have to do that for me.” I pull back to see the sincerity on her face.
She nods, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. “I want you to. I want you to be yourself with me, Archer. All of you. Mark me as yours so everyone knows. No one else can have me but you.”
Heat pummels my groin at the thought. The opportunity to truly mark her, feeling her acceptance of me. Her eagerness to let me be myself.
“Get on your knees, dirty girl,” I say with a growl.
Quickly, she lowers to her knees. Julian follows, taking his place as if he knows.
“Fuck, you’re so hot like this. Kneeling for me. You belong to me, don’t you?”
As they both stare up at me, I feel like the luckiest guy on the planet. Look at these two. They’re surrendering themselves to me—me. A guy who never felt worthy. They don’t see a replacement or a ghost of a man. They see Archer, just me.
“Mine,” I groan, holding my cock in one hand and stroking Julian’s cheek with the other. “Can I mark you?”
Gazing up at me, they both nod.
I feel so depraved, deliberating what I’m about to do. Some people might find it gross or strange, but it doesn’t matter what other people think. These two accept me the way I am. They see what I need, this innate need to claim them and this love.
It takes some focus, but as the stream begins, I let it wash over each of them. Freya doesn’t shy away in disgust. She takes a moment, clearly gauging her own reaction as it glides down her bare skin. If she hates it, I wouldn’t blame her. But fuck, I love her for at least trying.
In many ways, I know this is a form of degradation, and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t turn me on, at least a little.
But it’s more than that. It’s succumbing to the most depraved, base part of me and knowing…
they still accept me like this. And judging by the way Julian’s cock is visibly hardening and Freya leans into the stream with a high-pitched moan, they are both just as depraved. We truly were made for each other.
It does make me feel like an animal, but that’s what I am. I am a wild, feral thing that loves these two and wants the world to know—they’re mine.