Chapter 16 #3
I spot his stupid car up ahead and I blaze through the traffic between us to catch up to them. Making a fist, I bang on the back window and ride alongside the vehicle. I hit it harder and yell, "Open the fucking window."
The thing goes down a moment later, Drew sitting closest to me. "Can I help you?" he calls out to me.
"Pull over," I tell him.
He doesn't comply, he doesn't even entertain me—instead, he reaches for the button to roll the window up.
But I prepared for that, so I put my hand between the window and the frame as it starts to roll up, my hand getting smashed in the window but not before I start yanking it aggressively and buckling the entire window from its pane.
With one final tug, the window shatters, a shard of glass still in my fist. "I will ram this through your throat if you don't stop this car."
"Don't stop," London calls out. "Driver, keep going."
I accelerate and shoot ahead of the car, slamming on my brakes and stopping myself in front of the vehicle. If they want to keep going, they're going to have to kill me first.
Drew's car screeches to a halt and a moment later, both back doors open as horns blare from all around us.
London rushes over. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"
I hop off my bike and yank my helmet over my head with my free hand, the other still holding on to the glass, the sharpness slicing through my palm. "Put this on and get on the bike, London." I shove my helmet toward her, but she crosses her arms.
"What's the problem here?" Drew says as he approaches, his sights finally landing on me and realizing who I am. His expression shifts immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you, Archer."
I step toward him, sirens blaring in the distance, and nudge the piece of glass into his torso. "If you ever so much as look at her again, I will fucking end you. Do you understand?"
He nods briskly and sweat glistens on his upper lip. "I do."
"You're just going to let him intimidate you?" London mouths off to Drew. "You fucking coward."
I drop the glass, no longer having any use for it, and move closer to London. Without her consent, I slide the helmet over her head, not giving her a chance to protest, and buckle the chin strap tightly.
"What the fuck, Archer? I'm not getting on that thing with you." She motions to her dress.
"You get on the bike willingly or I'll put you on the bike myself." I ignore the commotion around us, not giving a fuck about anyone or what they might think.
"I'm not getting on there. You can't make me." London keeps her arms crossed, her head bobbling with the oversized helmet.
"Fair enough." I scoop her into my arms with ease, turning to walk toward my bike.
"Archer!" she gasps and pounds at my chest.
A second later, I hoist the two of us onto the seat. "Put your arms around my neck, little tornado." I position her small body in my lap, using my left hand to secure her legs over my leg. Her cast is awkward and bulky but I make it work because I have to.
"This is fucking insane," London yells through the helmet.
"Shh," I tell her and start the engine. Leaning forward, my torso presses against hers as I shift into gear and take off from this random street corner.
London remains quiet for the entirety of the ride back to our apartment complex, her grip around my neck tight and lasting.
I make sure to stop at every red light and stop sign and obey the speed limit.
I don't care about breaking the law, but the way she's riding with me leaves too many opportunities for something to go wrong.
It isn't until I pull us into the parking garage and shut off the engine that London seems to come back to life.
"Get me off this death trap," she whines.
I lift her into my arms, hop off the bike, and carefully set her on the pavement, turning my attention to the bike and pulling the key out of the ignition.
"What the fuck, Archer, I can't get this stupid thing off." London fumbles with the strap at her neck and I can barely hide the smirk on my face watching her struggle. "What's so funny?"
"Stop." I flick her fingers out of the way, unhook the strap, and hoist the helmet over her head, leaving her red hair a complete mess. "There."
London shoves her hand into my shoulder, but I don't budge. "I can't even push you, you're like a fucking statue."
I return my helmet to the bike, lock it into place, and disregard her comment.
"This way," I tell her as I walk away, leaving her behind in the garage. I glance over my shoulder once to confirm she's coming, her face scrunched and her cheeks flushed.
"Are we not going to talk about what just happened?" London marches after me.
"Can we not do this right now?"
"Then when, Archer? I mean, what the fuck, you had to ruin my date, didn't you? But why? I want to know why."
I reach the stairs leading us into the building and turn around to face her. "Because your date wasn't worthy of you."
London stops abruptly, craning her neck to look up at me. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Just trust me." I run my hand through my hair and wish like hell this entire situation would be over.
"No." She shakes her head and puts her hand on her hip. "I won't just trust you. I don't know you."
I let out a sigh and return on my journey into the stairway, London grabbing my arm once we're inside.
"Damn it, Archer. You're going to have to talk to me. Tell me what the fuck is going on. You can't be an asshole and get away with it. I deserve an explanation."
I pinch my brows, my back still to her. "Do you ever shut up?"
"Make me."
"What are you, a child?"
"No, I'm a grown-ass woman who's pissed off her birthday was ruined."
I tilt my head toward her, my resolve softening. "What?"
"Yeah. And all I wanted for my birthday was to have a nice dinner, and maybe get laid. Is that so much to ask for? Living with you is unbearable, sorry I wanted a release."
I snap around, caging her against the wall in one solid motion, my hands on both sides of her head. "You wanted to fuck him?"
London swallows and keeps her gaze on mine. "Does that matter?"
"You want a release? Is that what this is about?" My breath mingles with hers and my mind runs wild at the thoughts consuming it, my cock already aching in my pants. I shouldn't feel this way, I shouldn't think these thoughts, but I can't stop myself and I don't know if I'm even trying.
"Yes," she whispers.
I look into her eyes, mine darting back and forth between them. "And you don't care who it comes from?"
She shakes her head, her breath ragged.
Without allowing my brain to catch up with my dick, I crouch in front of her, my hands hovering along her legs. "Do I have your consent?"
London bites her lip. "What are you going to do?"
"Exactly what you want," I stare at her through my lashes, not daring to take this a single inch further until she gives me permission. I might find her to be the most frustrating person on the planet, but I would never touch her without her consent. "Do you want me to do that, little tornado?"
She nods but that isn't enough for me.
"I want you to say it," I tell her.
"Yes, Archer," she pants. "Please."
I wish I were a better man, one that would be able to walk away from this, keep his composure and not get so fucking worked up during every interaction with her. But I am not a good man, and right now, all I can think about is what she must taste like.
Gripping the fabric of her dress, I rip the slit in the side and run my nose up her thigh and give my hands a chance to explore her soft skin.
London gasps and follows it with a moan, the sound going straight to my throbbing cock.
I reach her lace panties, run my thumbs under the dainty material, and growl when I feel how fucking wet she is already. I stop what I'm doing and tilt my head toward her. "That better be for me, not him."
"I…I promise," she whimpers and runs her hands through my hair, tugging me toward her center. London steps apart, opening herself wider for me, an invitation I hate that I want in the first place.
I bring my face closer, breathing in her scent—so fucking sweet—and blowing hot air over her pussy.
I kiss her through her panties and savor the taste of her seeping through the sheer fabric.
Reaching up, I take both sides into my hands and slowly tug them down and over her legs.
With the panties still in my hand, I skim the fabric over her thigh and across her center, teasing her before running the fabric over her entrance.
She moans and tilts her head back. "Please, Archer."
I shove a finger inside of her, the panties wrapped around it, and fuck her with them.
London whimpers and tightens around me, so I send another finger into her.
"You like that?" I ask her, knowing damn well she does but wanting to hear it from her lips.
"Ye-yes," she moans, the sound echoing in the confines of this parking garage staircase.
I lift her leg over my shoulder and fuck her deeper, my lips grazing her clit.
I apply pressure, kissing her and swirling my tongue around her as I rock my panty-covered fingers into her tight, soaking pussy.
I angle my fingers, caressing her G-spot and making her shiver under my control.
I shove more of the lace inside and release my hand, both of them going to her center to spread her apart.
I lick and suck on her, drawing my name with my tongue so her pussy knows who's bringing it pleasure, and who it belongs to.
London digs her nails into my scalp, practically begging with her hold on me.
In one swift motion, I position her other leg over my shoulder and rise to my feet, holding London's sweet pussy in front of me while she holds on.
She doesn't protest, she doesn't ask to be let down, and I don't think I would even if she did.
I'm a man on a mission, and I won't stop until she's finished and dripping on my face.
London bucks her hips gently, fucking my face and moaning with every motion, her fists holding on to my hair.