by Dark, Raven
Until Zoe showed up at her house, Chocolate Fudge and an armful of girly movies in hand. Zoe had somehow managed to keep her husband from ripping Archer’s head off.
Gwen would have been lying if she said she hadn’t hoped for his call. Or that she hadn’t been tempted to march over to Archer’s apartment and demand answers. Part of her refused to believe he’d just used her. The way he’d talked to her that night, he hadn’t sounded like a man who just wanted her for sex. He’d changed on her, but why?
She knew how easily some men switched gears when they wanted in a woman’s pants. Still, Archer…?
“I don’t think I’ll be taking karate again.” She looked at Zoe. “It’s not like I could ever face him in class again.”
“I know.” Zoe pulled her close.
“I painted six paintings in the last two days.” She settled her head on the woman’s shoulder. “I was gonna paint him.”
It was ridiculous, but even looking at her art sometimes became too painful. She pushed herself through it, channeled the pain into the work. It worried her that her normally light, sensual art had taken on such a dark edge.
Zoe kissed the top of her head. “You could find a new teacher.”
Gwen shook her head. “I don’t want a new teacher.” Her throat tightened. “I don’t even want to think about karate now. It hurts too much.”
Zoe squeezed her hard.
A few hours later, after a couple of movies and the rest of the ice cream, Zoe finally left, reluctantly accepting that Gwen would be all right spending the night alone.
No sooner had she seen Zoe off and returned to her living room, her computer dinged. Gwen curled onto the couch and pulled the computer onto her lap. She checked her email. Her eyes widened at the screen.
Secret Admirer.
Ice filled her veins. Half of her wanted to delete the email unread, but she clicked it open.
Angel,
I wanted to wait until the demon’s wife left before I messaged you. It breaks my heart to see you in so much pain. Four missed classes and two tubs of ice cream can only mean you’ve ended things with Drake. Believe me, Angel, it’s for the best. He was wrong for you. A bad influence who would have only hurt you.
Now that I have you all to myself again, no one will corrupt you, no one will poison what is mine. I will make things right for you. For us. Our time is coming.
Your Secret Admirer
“Shit.” Shaking, Gwen slapped the laptop shut. Exactly how closely was he watching her if he knew the moment Zoe left? Was he out there now?
She raced to the window and scanned the quiet street below. No on suspicious stood out there, and there was no car outside her building that shouldn’t be there. But he must have been out there in order to know when to message her.
She ran a hand through her rumpled hair. She couldn’t call Ace. Her thoughts raced and she paced the room.
Well, one thing was for sure, she couldn’t quit karate. No way was she training under Archer now, but she couldn’t quit. Two months into training, still at the beginner’s level, she wasn’t anywhere near ready for a confrontation. She’d have to find another teacher.
Drawing a harsh breath, she marched across the house and threw on her coat and shoes. Then she wrote a check out to Archer and left the house.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Gwen pulled in one more breath and forced herself to knock firmly on Archer’s apartment door. You can do this
She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved when no one answered. She straightened her shoulders and knocked again.
Inside, she thought she heard a mumble. Then shuffling feet before the chain on the door rattled.
“Whatever it is, I don’t want any…” Archer cut off and blinked. His Adam’s apple worked on a swallow. “Gwen…” His voice sounded strained.
Gwen stared at him for a long moment. He looked as bad as she felt. His eyes were heavy with lack of sleep, his cheeks a little hollow. At least two days worth of stubble darkened his face, almost a full blown beard, and his dark hair looked like he’d slept on his head. How he still managed to look sexy, she couldn’t fathom. But stripped to the waist in only his black gi pants, with sweat from a workout glistening over every inch, he looked deliciously dangerous.
“Archer.” She cleared her throat and clutched the strap of her purse on her shoulder.
He let out a low sigh, and his eyes looked dark and pained. “What do you want?”
“I…” What was she supposed to say? Suddenly nothing sounded right. As usual her mind froze. “I have to give you something.”
She dug into her purse and held out the check. Archer scowled at it, then his shoulders dropped and he stepped aside.
“Come in.” Did he look disappointed? Annoyed? With himself, or with her?
Gwen made herself walk past him into his apartment. Memories of their one night together sliced at her thoughts. She pushed them aside, avoided looking at the bed.
“Here.” She thrust the check at him. “The lessons, paid in full.”
A wince pulled at his mouth. “You’re going to find another teacher.” He didn’t take the envelope.
Duh. “Were you expecting anything else?”
“No, I suppose not.”
Frustration flashed in her. Why was he being so matter of fact? So closed off? “Here, take it.”
His face was a mask. “I don’t want your money, Gwen.”
Instinct told her to turn and leave. Not to press, lest another painful argument start. She hated confrontation. “Stop being self righteous, Archer. You don’t get to be the white knight here. Take the money so I can leave.”
His eyes flared with the first real, fierce emotion since she’d shown up, and his shoulders rippled.
“I am not being…” He drew a long breath. Then he crossed the room to his fridge and took out a beer. “I said I don’t want it. I was happy to help. Now go, before I say something I regret.”
The implications in his words rankled her. Again, the urge to surrender pulled at her. She tightened her fist around the check until it crumpled. “You, say something you’ll regret? Seriously?”
“Gwen, I don’t want you here.”
“Well, tha…that’s too bad.”
Archer’s eyes widened. She’d never challenged him outside of training. “Excuse me?”
It awed her how dangerous he looked with that shadow of a beard, his huge shoulders bared, his hair like a wild man’s. He jerked the cap off his beer and threw it in the sink.
Gwen swallowed. “Okay, look. I can live with you treating me like garbage after what we did. I’ll have to. What’s done is done. If you like using women, there’s nothing I can do. But I need to know. Did you ever actually care about me?”
As soon as she spoke, Archer’s eyes dropped closed. His shoulders dropped, and he ran a hand through his rumpled hair. Creases deepened at his cheeks. When he opened his eyes, he set the beer down and walked back over to her. What would he do now? What would he say? There was no excuse for what he did, but…
Archer gently slid his hands into hers. He took the check, but set it on a table in a way that suggested dismissal rather than acceptance. The warmth and the slight tremor in his hands shocked her.
“Sit down, Gwen.”
She blinked at the odd request. “What? Why?”
“Because, there’s something you need to know about me.”
* * *
He pulled her over to the sofa, his shoulders tense.
Gwen sat down wanting to press, the awareness that something big was coming almost unbearable, but she kept silent. Whatever it was he wanted to say, she needed to let him do it in his own time.
They sat for what was probably only minutes, though it felt like an hour. At last, Archer spoke.
“I fell in love with a student before.” He glanced out the balcony door. “Five years ago, in Japan, when I was training for my fifth.”
Gwen could hear the hurt in the
heaviness of his voice. She touched his shoulder, waiting for him to go on.
The muscles in his shoulders rippled. “I was working for her father. We dated for a time. She was also my sub.”
“What happened?”
He swallowed. “I lost her. It’s… why I came back.”
“Lost… lost her how?” But she had a feeling she already knew.
“She died.” His jaw muscles twitched. He didn’t look at her.
“Oh, god, Archer.” She squeezed his shoulder, longing to put her arms around him, comfort him, but she wasn’t sure if he would welcome it. “I’m so sorry. H… how did it happen?”
His lips pressed together and he didn’t answer.
“Ok. You don’t have to tell me.” She slid her hand into his. It surprised her when he squeezed hers. “You don’t have to tell me until you want to.”
His shoulders relaxed a little. “You have to understand. Gwen. Kimiko was my world. I haven’t let anyone get close to me since she died. In some ways, she was a lot like you. So after we made love, I…” He put his chin to his chest.
She rested her head on his shoulder. Her eyes stung for him. “You pulled away. I got too close, and you pulled away before you could lose me, too.”
“Yes.” A husky rasp. He turned, cradling her face in his hands. “Gwen, if you knew what you do to me… Look. I want to be with you so bad it hurts. But I can’t promise I won’t make this difficult for us both.”
Gwen cradled his face this time. “I get it. But Archer, if you never let anyone in, you may never get hurt, but you’ll always be alone.”
The struggle inside him visibly darkened his face. “Gwen.”
“No, please, just listen to me. You said I was a lot like Kimiko. And I have a feeling there is something else you aren’t saying. I can feel it. But I’m not her. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you, and I’m not going to die.”
Thoughts of the stalker reared up, but she pushed them down. She wouldn’t let it get that far. She’d stop him. She’d make the cops do something when he finally messed up. And if he somehow got her… a chill shook her and she willed it away. She’d fight him. She wouldn’t let Archer use the stalker as a reason to push her away.
“Archer, I promise you, I’m here. If you want me, I’m yours, but you can’t keep living in the past.”
For a moment, he tensed and she thought that was it. Then his arms snatched her to him and he squeezed her close.
“Do you know how wonderful you are, Gwen Stanton?” He nuzzled her face with his, and his beard tickled her skin.
She smiled at the warmth, the tenderness in his embrace. “I think I have an idea now.” She clutched his back, running her hands through the back of his thick hair. “I’m so sorry for what happened to Kimiko.”
“Thank you.” He drew back and kissed her forehead. “I treated you like shit, and you had no way of knowing. I was a bastard, Gwen. I know that.” He traced her mouth with his fingers. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded. “I must admit, I like the idea of you being mean to me, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.”
He chuckled. “I know. If you still want to find another teacher, I get it. But I don’t want the money.”
“I couldn’t train under another sensei, Archer. But you only get a jerk pass once.”
A big grin spread over his face. “Deal.” He drew her into his arms, running his hands through her hair. “Thank you.”
“For?” She buried her face in his chest, loving the feel of him. Her heart lifted with happiness she hadn’t felt in days.
“For forgiving me. I should have just told you.”
“Maybe, but it wouldn’t have been a conversation anyone would want to have. And it’s over now.”
A warm light entered his eyes she hadn’t seen since the night they’d been together. His hand rubbed her back.
“You do notice we seem to have a bad habit?” she said.
“What’s that?”
“When things get tough, we push each other away. Or we run, like I did that day in class.”
“Hmm.” He pulled her onto his lap, cradling her backside in his large hand. “We do have a way of shutting each other out.”
“So, can we make a deal? You said you can’t guarantee you won’t make things harder. I get that. But from now on, when things get to be too much, we don’t turn tail. Like you said, communication is key. So we talk it out.”
He nodded and drew his head down to hers. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “You got it.” His lips brushed hers.
A bubble of joy rose in her and she put her chin against his chest, staring up at him. “So, what now?”
“I dunno. I think I owe you a steak.” He dipped his head and his mouth brushed her ear. “And then there is another thing I had planned for you.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
He nipped her ear, and the pleasure pain went straight to her pussy. He fisted her hair. “Did you forget already? I only meant to be a nice guy once.”
* * *
They’d agreed on Friday night.
It left her three days to plan for their first scene, but by the time Friday night arrived, it felt like a month since they’d discussed it. She pressed her palms on her living room window and looked out at the street below. Where the heck was Archer?
She checked her watch. She’d finished her shift at The Sanctuary two hours ago. Archer had said he’d be there at seven, giving her plenty of time to hurry home and do everything he asked in preparation for the scene that night. The whole time she’d showered and dressed, her heart beat wildly in anticipation.
Several times in the last few days, they’d talked at length about every aspect of the scene, setting parameters, going over limits. Archer’s warm attentiveness and encouragement made it incredibly easy to open up, to tell him what she wanted from the scene. And fuck if he didn’t find ways to tease her to madness throughout their time apart.
A hundred times since last week, she’d nearly disobeyed one of his orders and stroked herself to a violent orgasm. No one had ever made her want to come like him, but Archer had put that at the top of the list. She wasn’t to come without his permission.
The finality of it, knowing he owned her pleasure so completely, only made her want it more. Her core burned.
She shook her head. Damn him and his instructions. She took out the list he’d given her one last time and looked it over. Making sure she’d done everything right.
Ridiculously short micro-skirt. Check. Gwen hated skirts. They were too girly, left her feeling exposed, but she’d squeezed into the leather one he’d bought her, and it surprised her how sexy it made her feel. Besides, there was something incredibly hot about his making her wear something she hated.
Barely there halter top. Hooker heels, no panties—the fucker—hair down and loose. And yes, she’d shaved her pussy for him. It would have irritated her, but knowing why he wanted it made it impossible to fight him on it. He didn’t want anything protecting what was his.
She looked over the rest of the list and put it away in her purse. Checking her watch again. He was late. He was probably doing this on purpose. She’d suffer the consequences if she was one minute late, but not Archer. Archer fucking Drake showed up when he liked and she had to live with it. Even if the nervousness of what he might do to her that night drove her to the brink of insanity.
“You son of a bitch.” The whispered insult left her lips and she let out a shaky breath, imagining the delicious way he might punish her if he heard it. Yes. She’d have to make a point of calling him that. And worse, if she could get up the nerve. She had no doubt he’d do plenty of things tonight that would earn him that label and worse.
Her phone rang. Gwen looked at the screen. Archer’s name flashed up at her. She gulped. There was nothing in the fantasy that specified he’d call fist. What was he doing?
“Hello?”
“Are you home, Gwen?”
She scrunched her
brows. He sounded different. More dangerous. Was he already in role?
“I’m here. Waiting for you, Sir. But…I thought you wanted to start when you got here.”
“I am here. Look outside.”
Gwen scanned the street. Archer’s car sat a few houses down, across the road. How had she not noticed him pulling up? He leaned against the driver’s side, phone to his ear. He looked right at her.
Shit, he looked amazing. He’d dressed the part, in a dark leather jacket and torn faded jeans, leather boots. Dark hair slicked back, faint stubble shadowing that fabulous face. Danger radiated off him.
“You gonna let me up, or do I have to force my way in? I can, you know.”
Fuck. He was in role. She’d thought he’d wanted it at his house, but putting the scene in her personal space provided a bigger rush. He was brilliant. Gwen licked her lips. She’d never been good at challenging someone like this. The roles were meant to help her get better at assertiveness. She needed this.
“I don’t want to see you, Archer. What part of ‘it’s over’ don’t you get?”
“What makes you think you can talk to me like that?” The dark rasp crackled over her phone. The threat in it sent a shiver through her. “I already told you I own you.”
“I already told you. You aren’t getting in here.”
“I can still get in without you opening the door. Did you forget?” He held something metallic up in his fingers. “I have a key.”
She fought a smile. She’d given that to him.
“Maybe you should get the locks changed next time.” Amusement laced his tone. “You’d better do what I tell you, sweet thing. By the time I get up there in two minutes, I want you on that bed of yours, waiting for my cock.”
Damn, he was good.
“You wish. Go away, Archer, before I call the police.” As soon as she said it, way to fast and breathless, she stabbed the end call button. Outside, she swore she saw his face harden. A delicious rush of adrenaline heated every ounce of her blood as she imagined how he might make her pay for defying him. Her knees weakened.