Page 79 of Dead Vengeance

Archer laughs. He laughs that warm laugh I love, a smile in his kiss. “Why don’t we… Should we go inside?”

“No!” I snap. He pulls back a little, and only a little, because it’s all the movement he has. “No. Please,” I breathe out, kissing him again, two hands fisting that cashmere jumper that maybe I shouldn’t be crumpling, but it feels so nice. “Please, I… I like your car, Mr Gravely.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers. “Liam, every time you call me that…” His fingers dig into my waist, holding me to him, sending a tingle up my spine. “It does things to me.”

A slow smile spreads across my face. “Is that right?”

“Liam…” There’s a touch of warning in his tone, and a scandalous grin that reveals two rows of the most beautiful white teeth.

I want him to sink them into me.

“Then tell me what this does to you.” I wrap my hand around his dick, already straining hard for me through his jeans, and he lets out the most delicious groan, tightening his hold on me.

“I think we should—”

I cut him off with a kiss, running my fingers down his length once, twice, wrapping them tighter as I bring them up and start working his belt buckle.

“Here?” he whispers.

“Right here,” I whisper back. “I can’t wait. I can’t wait another minute.”

“Ah, fuck. You’re…” I wrench his jeans open, slide my hand into his underwear and take hold of his naked cock, watching his head tip back and his eyes shut tight as I begin to work him. He’s gorgeous like this—his cheekbones cut sharp by the streetlights, his lips parted in pleasure. The things I’d do with him if we just had a little more space…

I press back, hoping I can slide down between his legs, but the steering wheel jabs into my back rudely, like it’s offended I’m trying to give its owner a blowjob right in front of it.

Archer doesn’t let me move anyway. His fingers curl around my ass, pulling me forward for another kiss. Then his other hand slides over my hip, up along my ribs, over my chest, and the buckle of my overalls clicks loose. He’s got the other side open in a trice, dropping the straps back over my shoulders.

Both hands on my ass again, he rocks me forward, pulsing his cock into my grasp. And god, I just need a few more inches of headroom and I would be on top of him. Riding him in his car. Just the thought of it is so hot I almost spill in my pants.

I need his dick in my mouth right now. I squeeze a hand into his shoulder for stability and slip back, trying for a steeper angle this time, but miscalculate catastrophically. My ass hits the centre of the wheel, and the horn blares loudly, horribly into the still night.

I freeze, perfectly mortified.

He freezes, head tilted as if expecting the shout of a police officer coming to arrest us for gross indecency.

But when no sound replies, he cracks a gorgeous smile and wrenches me back down onto his lap. His kisses move to my neck, the teeth I’d wished for digging in, biting, sending a wave of electricity to every nerve in my body. His hands are tugging down my overalls now, ripping the front open when he realises they button up. And Archer’s hand is on my dick, wrapping tight, thumb on my slit, and fuck it feels good.

I let out a hard breath of air, and he catches it with his lips, kissing me, kissing the sounds away as he strokes me, as I stroke him.

He’s got that hand on my ass, pulling me forward again and again in a rhythm that’s like I’m fucking him. Oh, Christ, how I wish I was fucking him.

Archer’s hips thrust upwards, thrusting his cock into my palm over and over until I feel his fingers curl across the back of my hand, releasing one side of my dick. Until I feel it press against his.

Fucking hell. He’s so warm, and he’s dripping for me, and he yanks me in and moves me against his cock, and “Archer,” I gasp out, followed by a loud and pleasured groan I couldn’t stifle if I wanted to.

“Fuck me,” he whispers.

It’s the closest I can get right now, and it’s all I want in the world.

I shift forward, fucking into his warm hand that wraps my cock so well, wraps his, holds me against him with the most delicious friction, tight and warm and wet. And, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Liam,” he rasps.

I only realise I’ve closed my eyes when I open them again to see the way he’s looking at me. Like I am beautiful. More than beautiful. Precious. Desirable. But desirable in a way that goes beyond a quick fuck in the front seat of his tiny car.

I want him. I want him not just now, but tomorrow too. I want him in his kitchen, like he was this morning. Waiting for me in the sunshine. I want his soft jokes and his knowing looks. I want his tea and danishes. I want to give this a shot with Archer. Whatever this is. I don’t want it to be just sex. Even if this sex is so incredible already.

Pushing up on my thighs, grinding my dick against his, I whisper, “Do you like me working for you?”

“I like everything about you,” he breathes. “I’ve wanted you since the second you walked in. Look at you. You’re so fucking hot it kills me.”