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“Fucking sure.” Her lips meet mine again. “The only thing I want is to go home with you, Archer.” Fuck. Heart melted, cock hard. Her voice holds a new intensity, mingled with naughty playfulness that sobers me right up. She dangles car keys in front of me.
“Slight change of plans. I’ll drive. But when we get home. You take the wheel, Daddy.”
Chapter Ten
Rose
It’s not by chance that Cupid is the son of Venus, Goddess of love, and Mars, the God of war.
Turns out love and hate are divided by a thin, very blurred line. One that I can’t see anymore. It takes just a small flip to have heads mixing with tails, right with wrong, lust with love.
Saying I hated James’ guts seems harsh. I can’t say I didn’t, on occasion, wish he’d fall off his high horse, and break his perfect, straight nose in the process. I realize now I was simply stuck in the opposite pole of this magnet.
The lies we tell ourselves.
‘Hating’ him was easier, less painful than admitting to myself how I really felt. I want him. I’ve always wanted him. I never factored in the possibility of actually having him.
Now, I can see clearer. Now, I know I would be there to help him back up whenever he fell.
Because, in fact, he fell. I fell. Hard.
He was there to catch me.Whereas I let him hit the ground. James broke before my very eyes. I hate it took his pain for me to realize how much I couldn’t let him go.
Outside the bar in the snow, his whole being pleaded for deliverance. The learning curve might be steep, but I know I can piece him together, if he just lets me.
The rest of the world will have to learn how to deal with it. I can’t lose him over a reputation and stupid expectations, which, at the end of the day, no one gives a rat’s ass about.
To Claudia, and all the other faceless, nameless, and brainless ones I don’t want to think about, who had him before I did – thank you. Thank you for not being ‘the one’ and depriving me of the wonderful, fucking life-changing revelation that is James Archer.
Sure, he is a jackass. A foulmouthed, short-tempered, controlling asshole, who has dipped my world in neon, while obliterating all the careful lines I had drawn with his splash of flashy, messy, irreverent color. He squeezes the paint tube right in the middle and drives me crazy — I bet he still does that to toothpaste.
I learned something from him this weekend. I learned the importance of a well applied ‘fuck it’. Diving head first into what makes you happy, conventions and opinions be damned. Squeeze the damn tube wherever you want.
This Valentine’s Day, Cupid hit the bullseye. He might just be the best damn archer amongst the Gods. Second to James, of course. I know I’ll feel his wrath when we get to the house, and I can’t help but to be excited to get there.
James is finally taking me home. He’s holding my hand under his, on top of the gearshift, not giving me the slightest chance to pull it away. He trusts my driving, but he needs the control. There’s a peaceful but still devilish grin on his face as he keeps his eyes on the frosty road. I can’t wait to see just where those turning wheels inside his head are taking him.
He hasn’t spoken the whole ride, yet somehow the silence isn’t heavy or loaded with unspoken words. Very much the opposite. It’s building on my eagerness.
I smirk at him in return, while he keeps his eyes steadily ahead, not noticing. Without hesitation, I take my chance and yank my hand from his, holding a wicked grin on my lips.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Valentine?”
My response is to giggle, holding my hand to my chest. I’ve done it now. James reaches over, unclamps my hand and brings it to rest on his thigh.
“Do you know what happens to brats, Rose? They get punished.” James’ voice is low, dripping with a certainty that always gets to me. “You’ve just earned yourself a good spanking, Rosy girl. If that hand leaves its place for anything besides gear shifting, it’s gonna get a lot worse. Do you understand?”
I’m flooded. Pussy throbbing, toes curling, hips grinding. A spanking? I must be insane to be looking forward to it, but fuck I am.
James looks over, finding me hot and severely bothered just as we enter our street.
“Stay in the car.” He commands, stepping out. I’m confused, but soon enough he is over on my side opening my door for me. He’s gone from a dominating prick to a gentleman in a blink of an eye.
Before I’m even completely out, my center of gravity shifts, my ass pulsing with the sting of a smack. Forget the gentleman, he’s full-on Dom now.
“James!” I squeal, “what are you doing?”
He threw me over his shoulder and is carefully making his way towards the house.
