“Kit, have you met my boyfriend?” I angle my head to Archer, locking eyes with him.
“Kit Riggs,” my best friend says, crossing the room to hold out his hand. He pulls it back, mere inches from Archer’s. “I’m sorry. I—”
“We didn’t get that far… yet,” I say.
Kit closes the distance, shaking Archer’s hand.
My man looks over at me, his eyes sparkling as if I just made his entire fucking day. I would celebrate it, but I’m strapped to a fucking cross, and no one seems to care about getting me down.
“Jules, you remember Archer?”
She gives him a smile before looking at Kit who is glaring at her. It’s petty of me to bring to light another secret between the two of them, but I suffered a lot because of their lies, so it only seems fair.
Jules shrugs. “Wasn’t my secret to share.”
Archer tilts his head. “You didn’t even tell him?”
“I’d never do that,” Jules says, and I see some of the hatred Archer has for the woman lift away.
“This is all exciting, but can someone please get me down?”
Kit takes a step back, and Archer laughs when Kit pulls Jules back when she starts to step toward me.
“Babe?” I snap at Archer. “Seriously?”
“This doesn’t count as my day,” Archer mutters but he steps forward, helping me down.
I cup his face in my hands right there in front of Jules and Kit, pressing my lips to his before pulling back and looking in his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you.”
Kit clears his throat. “We didn’t have much by way of disguises. I went to both Ignacio and Wren.”
I sigh.
“I didn’t tell them what it was for,” Kit says.
Jules holds out the strap to a duffle bag as I walk toward her.
I want to fucking cry when I unzip the things. “This isn’t going to fucking work. Is this a joke?”
Everyone but me snorts with laughter when I hold up the plastic glasses.
“The hairy nose is a nice touch.” Jules chuckles.
“Fuck my life,” I snap when I dig deeper.
“Come on,” Archer says, pushing my shoulder so he can see. “It can’t be that bad—what the actual fuck?”
“What?” Kit says.
“What kind of friends do you have?” Archers hisses as he pulls out the next item.
“That must be from Wren.”
“Is it rubber?” Jules asks, taking a step closer.
“Latex,” I mutter, shoving my fingers into the mouth hole.
“Is that the dick hole?”
“Enough,” Kit snaps as he looks down at his woman. “Don’t get any fucking ideas.”
Archer chuckles. “I feel like I’ve been missing out.”
My man takes the thing, tucking it into his back pocket.
I shuffle through the bag further. “You didn’t say anything to Wren?”
Kit steps back holding his hands up. “I swear.”
“There’s nothing but ball gags and sex toys in that fucking bag,” I complain.
“I didn’t figure you wanted me giving Wren any specifics,” Kit says, humor in his voice.
“I think I like this Wren guy,” Archer adds.
Jules chuckles again.
I don’t think anything of it when Archer steps up close, sliding his hand into my back pocket. “We’ll just have to wait them out.”
“They won’t leave until they get what they came for,” I argue.
“We can stay until the rest of the club’s security team shows up,” Archer offers.
“I like that idea.” Kit growls at Jules’s words.
“If that’s what you’re going to do, I think we’ll get out of here,” my best friend says, grabbing Jules’s hand and pulling her to the door.
“You two have fun!” Jules manages before Kit ushers her from the room.
“This is a fucking mess.”
“It’s not a mess,” Archer says. “Ready to get back on the cross?”
“Not a fucking chance.”
His smile falters.
“If you’re going to get a whole new day, then we can do what I want right now. Bend over the bench, baby. I need a place to put my cock.”
Chapter 40
Archer
I’ve graced stages in sold-out arenas all over the world, and I’ve never let my nerves get to me, but I’m shaking, sitting in Brooks’s SUV.
“Are you freaking out?”
I shake my head, a lie I shouldn’t tell.
I want to ask what it means, what he expects from me, but I just can’t seem to manage it right now.
It’s been a few days since the sex club. We managed to get out of there without our faces being plastered across the tabloids, but just because he introduced me to Kit as his boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s ready to tell all the others that I know will be in attendance today.
I’m living with him, that move made the next day after he bent me over the leather-covered bench in that room and made me beg for his cock, but I know he hasn’t announced it to anyone.
“I’m going to be late,” he says, but he doesn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to go inside.
“That is not my fault,” I say. “I just needed help with my tie.”