“Why?” she asked, hoping he wasn’t planning to kick her out.
“Because you need some meat on those bones and I don’t have anything in the apartment you can eat… Vegetarian, are you sure?”
Even now, he made her smile. “Yes.”
Maneuvering their bodies so he could pick her up and carry her to the bedroom, his lips warmed her ear. “You had my meat in your mouth.”
Kicking into the bedroom, he tossed her onto the bed. It was so far away that she braced to bounce and whooped when she landed, but he went to the dresser to pull out clean clothes, showing no concern because he’d judged the throw perfectly.
“Your meat tastes good,” she said, lying down on his bed again.
She knew she should be getting changed and her clothes were right there beside her, but it had been so long since she’d been able to just stop and relax for half a minute that it felt good just to chill.
The drawer slammed and he pulled on a tee shirt as he turned around. “Do you swallow?”
“Excuse me?” she asked, peeping open one eye.
“It’s a shot of protein; you probably don’t get enough of that in your diet.”
Like he’d be doing her a favor if he let her blow him on a regular basis just to ensure she was getting optimum nutrition to maintain her health. “I don’t need a supplement. I get plenty of protein in my diet,” she said, sitting up to cross her legs at the edge of the bed. Reaching with both arms, she gestured him over and he complied. “But I’ll swallow for you. No animals were harmed in the making of your product.” With a sultry gaze, her eyes wandered upward and the burn of his desire made her open her hand on his groin. “I might need some more practice with this monster before I get it right.”
“You did just fine before, but practice as much as you need.”
So selfless. Just to return his tease, she rubbed him through his boxers, and it didn’t take long to get him to attention. Bowing forward, she pressed a kiss to his shaft through the cotton of his underwear then leaned back. “Too bad you offered to take me out. It will have to wait until another time.” Leaping off the bed, she grinned and kissed his arm because she couldn’t reach his face. “You don’t mind if I take a quick shower, do you? I know how everything works.”
eleven
He didn’t stop her and he didn’t join her, which worked out ‘cause if he had, they’d probably have ended up in bed together again.
Going into the bathroom, by choice, was an odd experience. Deliberately leaving the door open, she kept the water warm, and paused every time she heard a noise. Part of her was eager to have him sneak in with her, the other part feared who might come and visit Archer while she was in this vulnerable position.
It turned out that she was worried about nothing. They got ready, into Archer’s car, and into a back alley Italian place called ‘Louie’s’ that was somewhere close to her apartment, though she hadn’t known it existed.
Archer really did know everything and everyone. He was offered the best table in the house by the server, though he refused it in favor of a corner booth that was shrouded by shadow. The restaurant was so busy that it was standing room only in the entryway as people waited to be seated. The bar was packed too and people were being turned away from the door.
Yet, Archer had walked in and gotten service straight away, which meant one of two things: Archer had helped these people or he’d hurt them.
“Why did you pick this table?” she asked after the server had taken their order and poured their drinks.
“I like to watch,” he said and his honesty made immediate sense. “You never know what you’ll see if you pay attention.”
Nya sat on the side of the booth that put her back to the room, whereas he had an excellent view. Seating himself in the middle of the bench meant he could remain in the darkness so as not to be seen, but still manage to observe everything else that was going on in the vast room.
“A girl likes to be the focus of her date’s attention,” she teased, hoping to catch his eye. Instead, he swooped a hand across the table to gather hers up. Squeezing it in both of his, he kissed the back of her fingers, but he still watched the room. “Archer.”
“Mm?”
“I like it when you kiss me here,” she said, bending back her hand to present her branded wrist to him.
That did get his attention; he made eye contact, then lowered it to the wound that he grazed with his thumb. “Because you like reminding me that I hurt you?”
“Because there’s something hot about wearing your mark,” she admitted. “I know it makes no sense and it hurt like hell, don’t think it didn’t.”
His head moved in a slow shake. “I didn’t want to hurt you. You were… supposed to be like any other interrogation, there are so many techniques I use and… I couldn’t make myself use them on you.”
“Like what?”
“You don’t want to hear about that.”
Maybe in another situation she wouldn’t. But Nya couldn’t think about sharing her bed with this man again if she couldn’t face up to what he did. “I do want to hear about it. This won’t go anywhere if you don’t trust me, Chase.”
“Don’t use my first name,” he muttered.
It didn’t appear to make him uncomfortable; maybe he was just unaccustomed to hearing it. “Calling you Archer all the time feels detached and I don’t want to be that. What should I call you?”
“Just not that.”
“Ok, Fella,” she said, for lack of something better to call him. “So what techniques do you usually use?”
Squinting at her, he was reluctant. “Are you sure you want to hear about this? We can be a thing without you ever being involved in that part of my life.”
Nya wouldn’t take part in what he did. For one thing, she wouldn’t have the stomach for it. For another, she’d embarrass Archer with her incompetence. But Archer wasn’t the type of guy who’d let her ever have secrets, he had to know everything. Not only was it his job, but they were here on a date and his focus kept flitting from her to the others in the room. His need for knowledge was strong.
“So I won’t ever be allowed to stay over while you’re working?” she asked. “What if I have to pee when you have a guy chained to your floor?”
For a second, he considered this. “There are ways of working around prisoners.”
Like he worked around her? She didn’t relish the idea of peeing or showering in front of a stranger who would probably be begging for mercy. “The first step to me getting used to that is you being honest about what I might see, about what you do. Tell me about the techniques you use. Do you water board people?”
His mouth opened over the base of her thumb in a long kiss before he responded. “Have done. A good start is stress positions,” he said, sitting back and letting his hands fall to the table. One moved away from hers to straighten his beer bottle. “Forced nakedness is another.”
The cuff that connected her ankle to her wrist was a sort of stress position, she guessed. But he hadn’t forced her to be nude. “You didn’t strip me,” she said. “You could’ve.”
“I’m not sure who that would’ve tortured more, you or me.”
Appreciating his half smile, she was aware that his gaze never quite met hers. “What else?” she asked.
“Some of it is obvious. Sensory deprivation or bombardment are good openers. Sleep deprivation is easy, keep the lights on, the floor is hard, cold—”
“Yeah, I’ve been there,” she said with a smile and tightened her fingers around his. Something as simple as holding hands had never had such an impact on her. His strong, capable hands were wrapped around hers and he’d forgotten about the rest of the room.
“Starvation works, dehydration too if things get strained.”
“In a room with a water supply, how do you enforce dehydration? I helped myself when I needed to drink or pee.”
Putting his elbows on the table again, he brought her hand to his mouth once more.
“The chain’s adjustable,” he said.
Growling, she imagined how torturous that would be. “With the faucet dripping constantly, and not being able to access water…”
“I don’t like doing that,” he said, kissing her brand then her palm. “And restricting access to the toilet just leaves mess to clean up. Pain and humiliation usually work best. Like I said before, I’m not breaking trained vets. I’m dealing with street scum and the occasional socialite; they’re not built to handle stress like that… You put up a fight though. Where did you learn that?”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t give up Tag, I just couldn’t and I never would. You should know that. I won’t ever betray him.”
Brushing his lips back and forth on her knuckles, he seemed to be enjoying the texture of her skin, but he frowned. “What is the deal with you two? If you’re not with the guy…”
Sighing, she almost rolled her eyes because she was getting tired of the accusation. “I’m not with the guy,” she said. Although he didn’t phrase his latter words as a query, the question mark hung over their heads. “It might sound dumb, and don’t think I’m getting ideas about us, but… I like being monogamous, I like being with just one guy. There’s an intensity that comes with being exclusive.”
“I like hearing you say that,” he said. “Because I don’t screw around either. So long as we’re sharing a bed with each other, we share it with no one else.”
He probably used that line to tell other women not to have sex with other men all the time. For her, he meant she wasn’t to sleep with Tag. “I will be going back to Tag’s,” she said. “I’ll have to talk to him about what happened at your place today and about the money. I have to explain.”
“You stole it for me, what is there to explain?”
“It wasn’t as simple as that and I did tell him in advance that I was going to do it, it wasn’t like a smash and grab.”
The curl of his lips was hidden by her wrist, but she felt it. He kept turning her hand, exploring her palm, sampling her skin with his lips, rubbing it on his face. Seeing him so curious about something so simple intrigued and flattered her.
“Most people wouldn’t get away with stealing that kind of money, even from a friend.”
“My relationship with Tag isn’t typical,” she said and he lowered her hand to the table on top of his. Flattening his other on top, he sandwiched her hand between his two and waited. “I’ve never been a very… open person. It’s not easy for me to tell strangers about my history.”
His eyes widened and his lips quirked. “You were sliding your tongue all over my cock a few hours ago. I think we’re passed strangers.”
It didn’t matter that his point was valid, she was still dubious. “How do I know you’re not just doing this to manipulate me?” she asked, voicing her concern. “You lied to me about having a sister. Maybe this whole thing is a lie.”
“Maybe it is,” he said. “But why bother? I have my money. I have no reason to manipulate you. I could make one up… if it would make you feel better about what we’re doing.”
Just like before when he’d told her he’d give her an excuse to sleep with him. He seemed determined that she needed to justify what they were doing beyond their obvious desire for each other. “You still haven’t told me why you needed the money,” she said, trying to slide her hand out from between his. But he didn’t release her, he kept her hand there imprisoned between his.
“Does it matter why I needed it?” he asked.
“No,” she replied because in truth, it didn’t. It was his money. It was owed to him and it was right that he received it. “But it’s the lie. You’re asking me to trust you with a part of my past and a part of Tag’s past and you won’t even tell me the truth about what happened today.”
“The truth?” he said. “I don’t let anyone screw me over. It would set a bad precedent. I get paid for every job I do. Every. Job. That was my money and I would’ve done whatever it took to get it because it belonged to me. But, yeah, it was important that I get it. Course it was. I support me. I support my mom. Life these days is expensive.”
A thought that she’d previously dismissed came back to her. “You don’t…” she trailed off. “You don’t… I’m not saying it would matter, I mean I’ve been with guy’s who have had their issues. But I would like to know up front…”
“What?” he asked when she trailed away again. “What would you like to know, Squirm? Never underestimate the power of just asking a question. You never know what you’ll find out.”
His pet name for her was apt, because discomfort made her shift in her seat. “You don’t have a habit, do you?” she asked. “Drugs, gambling, sex…”
“Not one that I pay for,” he said and she wasn’t quite sure what that meant. “I don’t like debts. I don’t like to owe people. So if you’re worried that I had some outstanding bill I had to sell my soul to cover, don’t. I needed the money to pay the bills I’m obligated to cover. That’s it. There’s no big secret.”
“So why didn’t you just tell me that? If there’s no big secret, you could’ve been honest.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Right then in the car, in the dark with you, it felt pathetic to tell the truth. After what had just happened, you needed a reason, you wanted to sympathize with me, so I gave you the reason. It just came out. I didn’t plan on bullshitting you… I never lie, so it’s even weirder that I did it. The truth always comes out. You can’t avoid it. People try to all the time, I know, I’m usually the one they’re looking at when they lie. But I can see it. I can tell. I’ve always been able to do it, I just… I can smell bullshit, I guess.”
Whether or not he made a habit of lying, she’d need time to figure that out. Though in other areas, he seemed to be honest to the point of brutal. “And that’s how you got into this line of work?” she asked. “You were just good at it?”
“Kind of,” he said. “I grew up with gangs and rough crowds and got myself into some trouble pretty young. One of my mom’s many boyfriends took pity on me, tried to straighten me out. He showed me how to defend myself, how to talk to people, and how to win their confidence. I learned that I could approach people, get them to tell me things. As a kid it worked because they thought I was innocent. As I got older, harder, people didn’t trust me so easily and that was when Derren taught me about knives. I loved it. I loved everything about them, the blade, the feel in my hand, the weight, the smooth texture of the metal and the comfort of the grip. I loved the way the light caught the metallic surface and glinted that blinding beam. The angles, the sheath, the sound of it slicing through flesh, I loved it all. I guess you could say that was my first love.”
Listening to him talk about his life, being open about where he came from, it erased some of the mystery, but didn’t lessen his allure. She was fascinated as he carried on. “Derren took me hunting, taught me how to take an animal apart.”
Her lip curled. She didn’t mean to look disgusted, but he stopped talking, not because he was worried about offending her, but because he wanted to smile. “Sorry,” she said. “I just… I can’t imagine doing that.”
“Course not, Vegetarian,” he said. “I’m sure you get a lot of pleasure ripping those carrots up out the ground and slicing those bastards up good.”
“That’s not the same thing,” she laughed.
“No,” he said, appreciating her amusement with his own, “it’s not. But you wanted the truth and that’s where it came from.”
So she asked. “What happened to Derren? Is he still with your mom?”
“Fuck, God, no,” he said with a slight shake of his head as his eyes fell to watch his hand. Stretching over, he slid his hand from her elbow down to rest over her wrist. “No, my mom never keeps a guy for more than a few weeks at a time. She’s always been that way. I don’t know why Derren stuck around with me, but he did. I didn’t appreciate it at first, I kept telling him to get lost. I kept thinking he wanted something. I still don’t understand why he
took pity on me. But I owe him a lot and I’ll never forget what he did for me. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be dead now. Definitely in jail, probably doing life.”
“Wow,” she said because he seemed so sure that this guy had saved him. “You were lucky to have him.”
“He taught me how to read people, how to be careful, how to not leave evidence.”
Something about the way Archer talked about this man, beyond the words that he said, betrayed just how much he valued the mentor in his youth. But there was more to the story, maybe more to the present or more to the past and he wasn’t revealing it yet. Nya couldn’t blame him; she’d revealed nothing of herself to him.
“You asked me once,” she started, understanding why it was easier to watch their interaction than it was to meet the eye of the person you were revealing your underbelly to. “You asked me once if…”
The words weren’t coming to her and Archer was being patient, which surprised her. She was stumbling over what to say because for some reason it kept getting stuck in her throat. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be honest with him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell him what she’d been through. But she just couldn’t dislodge the sentences needed to explain.
She guessed part of getting people to tell the truth, to tell him what he wanted to know, included being sympathetic and letting them trip themselves up. Maybe that’s what he was doing now or maybe he was just being patient.
After another breath, she turned her hand over so that they were palm to palm. “You asked me once if rape was what I feared, and I told you that it was. I didn’t tell you why,” she said.
twelve
“Someone hurt you,” he said in a calm voice with infinite understanding and no judgement like he’d been trained to be calm and patient. As if he was a professional. Which he was. Just not in a conventional sense.
The bustle that had been distracting before had faded to nothing but ambient noise. “Someone tried to,” she said. “And it was Tag who got me out.”
Branded Page 13