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‘You gave me—‘
I press my thighs together and close my eyes. My nipples harden and my toes curl in my boots. I’m literally sweating, because I feel it—that familiar pressure. It’s building and building, and I can’t suppress the moan this time.
‘God, Archer,’ I breathe. ‘If you keep doing that I’m going to cum.’
His gaze is heated as he meets my eyes over his drink, and even that look makes my heart slam.
I can’t take it.
‘I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute.’
I press my hands against the sink and lean against it, taking deep, steadying breaths. I check each cubicle to make sure I’m alone before I tear off my panties and shove them into my bag.
I feel naked as hell right now, but I’d rather have no underwear than cum in front of his mum.
Suddenly the door opens and I hear the lock slide into place and Archer ambles around the corner.
Oh. Shit.
He leans against the wall and crosses his arms. His eyes roam over me as he cocks his head. ‘What are you doing in here?’ he says. ‘You left in quite the hurry.’
‘You gave me vibrating underwear!’
‘I didn’t.’ He opens the cubicles before pulling a small rectangular object from his pocket. ‘This controls when it vibrates.’
He presses it, and his gaze lands on my bag as the panties vibrate from inside. His eyes flit to me, and the hunger in them roots me to the spot. ‘You took them off?’
Before I can say anything, he grabs my knees and lifts me onto the counter. My hands instinctively flatten behind me to arrest my fall and he plunges two fingers inside of me.
Archer sucks in a sharp breath. ‘You’re dripping.’
I bite my lip, but his mum is probably back at the table, so I go to clamber down—
‘Don’t move,’ he growls. ‘I’m not done with you.’
???
Archer pulls the car to a stop outside my house, and he switches off the ignition.
Silence stretches on. I’m not entirely sure what to say. If this were a movie or a novel, we would kiss goodnight and say something cheesy. But it’s neither of those things, and Archer couldn’t be farther from a fictional book boyfriend.
But there is something I need to say. Something I need to get off my chest.
I draw breath to speak when he beats me to it.
‘Thank you,’ he says, without looking at me. ‘For coming tonight.’ Each word is bit out, as if every fibre of him rebels against them.
Smugness radiates through me—and then I’m appalled at myself. How can I possibly be smug in this situation? Archer is opening up to me; he’s starting to trust me with his secrets. I should feel relieved, not privileged.
And yet, that small, consistent voice tells me Archer Toban has admitted things to me he’s never admitted to anyone else.
‘Don’t thank me,’ I say. ‘I want to be there for you. Don’t thank me for doing the bare minimum. Don’t thank me for being your friend.’
He turns to look at me, and his expression is one of wonder and something like awe. ‘How do you do it?’
‘Are we talking about my winged eyeliner?’
He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t laugh. His countenance doesn’t change at all. It’s like he’s looking right through me and into me. ‘How are you so upfront with your emotions? Doesn’t it make you feel vulnerable? Aren’t you scared of getting hurt?’
