Page 76 of Dead Vengeance

twenty-two

Gear Shift

Liam

Icannot believe Archer propositioned me. Asked to take me home, just like that. I don’t know what to do. I haven’t even kissed him. I guess I kind of held his hand, a bit. I guess he… he did save my life. I mean, I know I’m attracted to him but… wow.

I won’t pretend my feelings aren’t mixed. My adrenaline’s still pumping from the last few days. There’s a world of shock I need to sort through. There’s a fuck tonne of trauma I’m actively pushing down right now.

But Archer’s hot and he wants me, and I’m not passing this opportunity up.

Twenty-four hours ago, I could never have imagined this happening. He’s so gorgeous, he’s like a model. And how often do you get to sleep with men who look like models? In my case? Literally never.

Now I’m in the front seat of his car, speeding through London, to what will be… well… probably not as hot as it should be.

My mind’s reeling about what to do here. At what stage do I tell him I live with my mum? I’m very much putting it off because I’m still desperately hoping some brilliant plan will jump into my head between here and there and save me from… quiet sex in my small council flat room with my mum next door on the other side of paper-thin walls.

Fucking hell, that’s grim.

I can’t have him back to mine.

But we’re getting close now, and what do I do? Is there a hotel on the way? A decent one? As if I can afford that.

Would he pay? How do I suggest that? Does that make me look like a sex worker?

Fuck, if it wasn’t so cold out I’d just suggest a walk in the park. Or…

This is a nice car, actually. It’s an Aston Martin, an old one, which I know means it cost a lot. It smells great in here, all clean and leathery. I wonder if he’d consider this. He’s tall, and it could be awkward, but no more so than trying to sneak him past my mother.

God, I feel like such a loser. He’s only a few years older than me, and look at him. His own house, albeit a haunted one, a fancy car, a real job, expensive clothes. The confidence to ask me just like that. ‘Do you want to fuck?’ And to know I’d say yes. Of course I was going to say yes!

We pull onto my street, and alarm bells are going off in every corner of my brain. I need to be the one to keep this in his car.

Fuck, what’s he going to say if I have to tell him I live with my mum…

He smiles across at me, warmly, sweetly, and I guess that’s my cue to do something.

“Just over here is great,” I say, which is obviously a brilliant way of getting him off my street and somewhere better.

“Just there?” he confirms.

“Yep.” For the millionth time today, my heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest. It’s still fear, just a different kind. Fear of being judged. Fear of being rejected. Fear of… I don’t know. Of losing the possibility of an actual thing with a guy like this in exchange for a quick handjob in the car.

I wish I had my own place. I wish it was nice, and I could invite him in, and maybe even talk to him for a bit.

But instead, the car comes to a smooth stop, and Archer cuts the engine. He turns towards me, one hand on the steering wheel, the other slipping along the gear stick in a way that probably shouldn’t be sensual, but absolutely is.

This is the bit where we’re supposed to get out, go inside. This is the bit where I have to act. Where I have to tell him. “Mr Gravely—”

He cuts me off with a loud laugh, his head dipping. “Are you still calling me that?”

Heat floods my cheeks. He’s not my boss right now, or my boss’s boss, or… I don’t know. Whatever he was. Now he’s a guy I’m about to…

No, wait, he’s still a client.

God, is this okay? I don’t want to take advantage of that.

But no, wait. If anything, he has me at a disadvantage, not the other way around. I’m his employee, technically. And he knows all the things, and I know fuck all. So… I don’t think it’s anything wrong? I hope it’s not.