Page 58 of Sinful Seduction
“I’m not saying he’s suffering an active, current outbreak of the herpes virus, since heusuallytakes his medication as he should. Like… eighty-seven percent of the time. But I’m saying he wasn’t as responsible a few years ago, and that led to a worm that started to eat his brain.”
“Minka!”
“He’s never quite recovered from that ordeal. Legally, he possesses the maturity of a pre-pubescent child, so whatever lines he used to get you here, I’m afraid to say he memorized those from Napoleon Dynamite. You know…” I wrinkle my nose. “The movie. Was it the nunchuck skills that got you? Did he tell you he could hack computers?”
“I-I’m going to leave.” The poor woman snatches her shoes and bounds up from the couch like her ass is on fire. Cato, on the other hand, sits on the coffee table and holds his head in his hands. “S-sorry.” She swallows and stumbles across the apartment, squeaking and making a wide berth to stay as far from Archer as possible. “I’m so sorry, Officer. I didn’t know.”
“Was it the bow-hunting skills?” I turn and hobble back toward the door. “Because the judge ordered that he no longer use those. It’s for his own safety.”
“I’m leaving.” She snags her purse and hugs her things to her chest, then she skedaddles to the door and swings it wide. “I’m sorry.”
“Vote for Pedro!” I finger-wave and flash a tormenting smile, the last thing she sees before she wrenches the door shut, then I turn and walk back to Cato, and since he’s yet to apologize, I flick his ear with as much rage in the tiny digit as I can muster. “You were warned, you little shit! Iwas nice. I was understanding.” I flick him again. “Stop having sex on my couch!”
“Stop flicking me!” He seizes my wrist before I can go for a third, and surging to his feet, he spins me around and leaves me turning, while he heads to the kitchen instead. “The fuck does encephalitis have to do with herpes, anyway? Oh, and while we’re on the subject; I have neither!”
“Herpes is a known cause of viral encephalitis, and encephalitis is a brain-eating disease. Ya know how you get herpes?” I limp around the couch and grab Archer’s arm before his mental breakdown clears and his rage returns. “From sex with strangers, you dumb shit! How about you getonefuck buddy? Just one. Make her nice and normal, age-appropriate, clean, and not a complete dunderhead, and thenmaybeI’ll let you bring her around. I might even text ahead sometimes, to allow you privacy in case you needjust five more minutes.”
“The fuck is a dunderhead?” He takes a Pepsi—my Pepsi—and slams the fridge shut. “That’s not even a real thing. And you just cost me an orgasm.”
“You just cost me an hour in a therapist’s office, so I guess we’re even.” I turn on my heels and drag Archer toward the hall. “Go to the bar and give us an hour alone.”
“If I don’t get to have sex,youdon’t get to have sex!” Irrationally energetic, he pops the can of soda open, bubbles bursting from the top and spraying along his forearm, then he drops his head and sprints into the hall after us. “You don’t get to have sex, you dunderheads! I won’t allow it.”
“Stop us.” I sling Archer into the room and turn back, closing the door most of the way, then I meet Cato’s delirious stare and sneer. “Go away. Consider going to church. I’m sure you could bathe in the baptismal pool and maybe come out a little cleaner.”
“I’m gonna stay right here and listen!”
I whip the door closed in his face and brush my hands together.Good job, Minka.
But then he pounds his fist against the thick wood, startling me a whole foot off the ground.
“I’m not leaving! If you two think you’re gonna fuck, I’m gonna listen, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to stop me.”
Archer grabs my hair and wraps his hand over my mouth, trapping my squeal of surprise inside. Then he swings me around and swaps his hand for his lips. “I’m gonna fuck you while he’s listening.” He speaks barely above a whisper, his hands bruising my flesh and his tongue feverishlydueling with mine. “We’re gonna hurt each other, Minnnnka. And we’re gonna stay quiet anyway, because he’s gonna try to listen, and we’re gonna give him nothing.”
“Archer!” I gasp at how quickly he relieves me of my shirt, peeling it up and over my head, tangling my hair in the fabric and whipping my ponytail around until the ends slash my back. Lightning fast, he drops to his knees and undoes the button on my pants. “Archer!”
“I can hear you!” Cato singsongs. “And I’m man enough to take a seat and listen. Ain’t no one said I was a nice, normal human being. I grew up Malone which means I became a freak long before I should have.”
“Oh my God.” I plug my ears. “Tell him to shut up.”
“You shut up.” Archer tears my zipper down and peels the fabric of my pants back, exposing my hipbones. It’s still so friggin’ hot, even in my bedroom. Even with the cooling on. Even though it’s dinnertime and the world should have cooled down by now. He slides his hands into my pants, gliding his palm over my bare skin, then he looks up at me with a devilish grin and eyes that glint hungrily. “No panties, Doctor Mayet? You dirty girl.”
“I didn’t have any to change into!” I fold and cup his face, trying, but failing, to pull him to his feet. I lost control of this—whatever this is—right around the time Cato decided he would listen, and Archer decided he didn’t care. “We arenothaving sex while he’s out there!”
“We are, actually.” He drags my pants down, but his frenzied rush is gone, replaced with a slow, sensual reveal instead. For every inch of flesh he uncovers, he trails behind with a lave of his tongue. For every shudder that rocks through my body, he kisses my thigh. And when I knot my fingers in his hair to avoid falling, closing my eyes because somehow, at some point, panic turned to lust, he dives forward and buries his tongue between my legs, tasting what he so often covets.
Taking what he already owns.
“How to do this?” he wonders, suckling on my clit and massaging my thighs with his broad, powerful hands. “Bend you over the bed, you’ll hurt your knee. Lay you on the bed, still gonna hurt your knee.” Skillfully, he draws me to the razor’s edge of sanity. “If I fuck you against the wall… still gonna bend your legs, which will hurt your stitches. Fuck you like you’re a dog…”
“Stitches.” I tilt my head back and pant… like a dog. “Sounds like you’ve got some figuring out to do.”
“Can’t even make you ride me,” he groans. “Because that’ll hurt your knee, too.”
I tighten my fingers in his hair and lose myself to his talented tongue, my pulse pounding where his lips touch, my release already lubricating and awaiting his entry. “I could stay standing.” I moan. “I guess.”
“Standing?” He unsnaps my bra with an easy flick of his fingers and cups my breast. All without looking. “Against the door?”
