Page 104 of Grumpy Billionaire Bad Boy

"I mean, considering I heard it nonstop my entire life, it's hard not to think it from time to time." I chew at the inside of my lip, a million thoughts wanting to come out of my mouth. I've never spoken candidly about my father and the true relationship we had. I've mentioned it here and there to the people who know me, but no onereallyknows what he did to me, what he forced me to endure. It's enough to drive a person mad.

The thought of Seven comes to mind, the way he acts, the carelessness to his actions. If I were wired differently, perhaps that's how I would have become. From the little I've heard aboutArcher and his siblings, there's no telling the torment that Seven went through. Maybe his actions are justified because of the trauma he's experienced. Maybe it's a cry for help because he doesn't know how to process his emotions otherwise. He's quite unlikable, but it's hard to hate him with everything considered. We might be more alike than we are different, and that alone scares me.

Archer reaches forward, latching his hand onto mine. "Hey." His voice is soft and reassuring. "I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and I am so attracted to you it hurts at times. But I don't care if we never get intimate again, I value you way more than what you can offer me with your body. This isn't transactional, London. Do you understand?"

I nod and will my eyes not to water any more than they already are. "I understand," I say those two words despite struggling to wrap my head around what he's telling me.

This entire date was such a bad idea. The more I get to know him, the more I want him, and not in a temporary way. I can't begin to count how many times our entire life has flashed before my eyes. Us annoying each other every single day, him washing my hair in the sink, me making sure he eats, stealing kisses in the kitchen, walking hand in hand to the grocery store, no longer ignoring the passion and chemistry between us.

He rubs his thumb in a circle on my hand, letting out a breath before releasing me. "If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here to listen. Don't feel obligated. I'm here for you, in whatever capacity you need me to be."

We spend the rest of our dinner talking about lighter subjects—music we like, movies we've seen, places we've traveled. It's strange how many times our paths have crossed and yet we never met until now. I'm sure there would be even more connections if he knew who I truly was, but I'm not ready tocross that bridge yet, so I keep that information to myself, locked away for a time when I'm ready to let him go. I'm not convinced that day will ever come.

I eat two large slices of the pizza and Archer finishes off the rest of it, making sure to offer me the last slice at least eight times before taking it for himself. I sit back, holding the flute of champagne, the bottle almost empty and my body warm from the buzz. I'm nowhere near drunk, but I feel good.

"Oh, I have one," Archer says, snapping his fingers. "Would you rather have no taste or be colorblind?"

"No," I say loudly. "Both of those are terrible. Ugh, I guess be colorblind. What about you?"

"Colorblind for sure, I still want to be able to taste you." He winks at me and it makes me tingle more than the champagne already was.

"Let's take this up a notch…" I tap my finger on the table. "Would you rather give or receive?"

Archer scoffs. "That's easy. Give."

I picture his hands on my thighs, his face buried at my center, his tongue caressing my entrance. "Would you rather sleep with someone on the first date or wait for six months?"

"You skipped me, little tornado. You're bad at this game." Archer licks his lips. "Six months is a long time…"

The implication of his answer hits me in full force, my mind reeling at how far I'm willing to takethings. I've wanted him since the very first frustrating moment I saw him, but I don't want this to go further than anything we can comebackfrom. Sex complicates things, and things are already so fucking complicated between us.

"It is," I say, unsure of what to do next.

"Would you rather always have sex with the lights on or off?" Archer asks me, picking up where I left off.

"Lights on."

"Would you rather have sex in the bathroom or the kitchen?"

"Both?"

"Would you rather have sex in the bedroom?"

"Or what?"

Archer stares at me for a long moment, the wheels in his head turning so much I can practically see them. If only I knew what he was thinking."Tell me what you want, London." His chest rises and falls at a quicker pace.

"What?"

He stands, comes around the table, and leans against it with one tattooed arm. "Tell me what youwant." The last word is almost a growl, my pussy clenching with desire.

"I want you," I whisper. "I want all of you."

"I'll give you anything you want."

"What happened to you not wanting to be intimate? What happened to valuing me more than what my body can offer?"

He looks at me so intensely it’s like he’s staring right into my soul, his eyes hauntingly dark. "I worship you, London. If you say no, I'll drop it right now. You call the shots, not me."

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