Page 40 of Turning Tides
“I like you all wet for me,” he purred in my ear. “How wet are you?”
I bit my lip to stifle a groan and spread my legs, bending them so the bottoms of my feet were on the mattress. I let my legs fall open, creating as much room as possible.
“I’m fucking soaked.” I tightened my grip, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted Archer here with me. Pretending was shit and it made me angry all over again.
I didn’t want to pretend with him. I didn’t want to act like he meant nothing to me. I didn’t want to treat him like nothing more than a friend. I wanted to bring him home and wake up next to him. I wanted him to walk into my bar and kiss me in front of everyone.
There was no way I could say any of that. For the time being, I’d take what I could get until I couldn’t take anymore. Eventually, one of us would have to walk away. But it wasn’t going to be me. I knew that already. I wanted Archer in any way that I could have him, even if it was only his voice in my speaker phone as I pressed two fingers against my hole.
“What are you doing now?” he asked. “Are you being a good slut for me?”
“Ye-es.” The word stuttered out of me. I’d borrowed some excess lube from my cock and teased my fingers into my hole. The stretch was too much too fast, but it was perfect for the way I felt. The burn in my heart now matched the burn in my body. It was tangible proof that I was absolutely fucked up over this man. I jerked myself faster, wet skin slaps echoing in the otherwise quiet room.
“Fuck, listen to you. You’re so hot.”
I huffed out a laugh. “You can’t even see me.”
“You’re always hot. But you’re especially gorgeous when you’re like this. All lusty and slutty for me. Close your eyes and listen to yourself. What do you hear?”
Lube. Skin slapping against skin. Harsh, heavy breaths. I pressed my fingers in deeper, trying to fill the spaces in me that I wanted Archer to fill. A whimper escaped my lips and Archer made an approving sound.
“That’s right. Let me hear you.”
It was like he had a Shane Taggart manual and knew what buttons to push, because I twisted my fingers, pushing them in deeper. I crooked my fingers and stroked against my prostate a couple times. The sounds I made were unreal. He was right—I did sound like a slut. I wished he was here to use me like one. I liked the way he said it to me, like it wasn’t an insult. When Archer called me a slut, he was giving me the highest of compliments. He always had this approving, appreciative look in his eyes when he said it.
I wished he was here so I could see it.
“I’m close.”
“Then come for me. Let me hear you. That’s a good boy.”
I cried out, arching off the bed, and my hips stuttered, fucking my fist. I came hard in ribbons that painted stripes up my chest. And I didn’t stop jerking. I kept stroking myself past the point of comfort until my noises went from gentle sounds of pleasure to tortured whimpers.
I stopped suddenly and yanked my hand away from my dick like it might fall off if I kept touching it. I’d already removed my fingers from my ass and I winced as I let my legs straighten out. There had been little lube easing my way and in the moment it had been incredible, but it might suck tomorrow.
There was a pause. A silence. No sound at all except for my harsh breaths and the blood rushing through my veins.
“If you ask me to come home with you again, my answer will be different,” Archer said, part confession, part promise. “Now get some sleep.”
I did as I was told.
Like a good boy.
Chapter 20
Archer
I gave partial creditfor the sudden influx of new clients to Shane and Mickey, who’d been telling everyone about my shop.Bullseye Body Artwas already making a name for itself. And though I wasn’t exactly booked solid or anything, I had a good feeling about the longevity of my business. On days that I had client consults, I made sure to have fresh treats from the bakery down the street. I’d already booked my first repeat client.
It was two in the afternoon and already I’d done a tattoo that morning and wrapped the day up with a consult.
Shane was going to get a sign for the back of the building so the entrance to the shop was easier to find. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but when he got an idea into his head, it was easier to let him run with it.
I still had to put the finishing touches on my sketch for Shane’s tattoo. The hard part had been deciding what to draw. After several different ideas, I’d settled on a sunflower. It fit the theme of his current tattoos, and it was often thought to symbolize generosity. I’d chosen it for that reason, plus the fact that Sunflowers were large and impressive. They had a presence that commanded attention. Much like Shane.
I thought about putting the sunflower on myself to remind me of what I’d had once… because I didn’t expect to get to keep Shane forever as much as I wanted that. If he’d wanted to be with me for real, he’d have said something by now, wouldn’t he? I still wasn’t sure how Cyrus would take a relationship between us, not that it was any of his business.
I was already asking Shane to risk his friendship with my brother, I didn’t want to come between them for real. Tossing my pencil down, I pushed myself to my feet and refilled my coffee. It was quiet downstairs and would remain that way all night because The Anchor was closed. Which meant it was unlikely that I’d see Shane at all. I knew he’d come if I asked, but I also didn’t want to monopolize all his free time.
