Graphically Novel (Love Hashtagged #3) (3 page)

And the text from Brad—
You need help?
—did the opposite of what he probably intended.

Tori sent back a terse,
I’m on it, thanks
, then immediately felt bad about her reaction.

By the time Tori shut off her computer at eleven thirty in the evening, her eyes watered, either from staring at a screen all day or with the looming tears of frustration. Really, the only thing she knew was she spent most of her day correcting a mistake that wasn’t hers and putting together a plan of action no one else was going to follow, which barely left her time to fix the original issue. The artwork had to be sent digitally in the end, and there would be a fine for not providing a hard-copy, per the contract, but it was better than dealing with another lawsuit threat.

She flopped back on her bed. The last thing she thought before she drifted off was,
Maybe I can get Archer to teach me how to talk back.

Right. Like I could ever do that.

Archer leaned forward on the glass counter next to the register and rested his forearms on the aluminum frame. He was careful not to smudge the glass. A stack of receipts lay in front of him for the various ingredients he used to make
onigiri
—rice balls—and bean-paste filled buns. He needed to tone back the treats for the anime club meetings. Sure, it was a tax write-off, since they were a community-college club. And if he was honest with himself, he enjoyed hosting them for weekly screenings.

The problem came down to money; it wasn’t flowing in the comic shop as it had in the past. The club members weren’t buying like they used to, and he didn’t know if he could afford the added expense much longer.

He sank onto a stool behind him. He was bummed Tori hadn’t been able to make it. Again. He might have been worried the kiss scared her off, but he knew she spent the entire day working. He desperately wished he could get her to take a stand with the people who worked for her. Point out that screw-ups wouldn’t be tolerated, instead of fixing the problems for them. But she insisted it was better not to rock the boat.

Wishing wouldn’t solve anything with Tori. He needed to concentrate on business. If he got his latest project off the ground, he wouldn’t need to tell the anime club to find a different place to hang out on the weekends. Charging them for the snacks didn’t feel right. He turned his attention back to his laptop, eyes glazing over when he looked at the search-engine optimization information again. The website was his attempt to bring in business on a national scale. He had to get his name on the radar, and he didn’t have a lot of money left, so he was pecking through the process himself.

Tori offered to have her future sister-in-law look at it for him. She insisted Gwen was a genius at this stuff. Archer couldn’t ask something like that, though. Not for free, and not from a friend of a friend.

Fortunately, he’d picked up enough from Zane over the years that he knew his way around most of the back-end technology.
Zane
. Archer’s mood dropped another notch.

A bell chimed, drawing him out of his plummeting mood, and he looked at the door. He pushed a smile onto his face for the distributor from his favorite independent comic company. “Hey, man.”

Archer liked Elliot. The guy didn’t give him crap about his order numbers being down, he had a sense of humor, and he never seemed to know if he dressed the salesman or the fanboy part. He tended to wear all black—the universal uniform of the geek who didn’t want to put time into their wardrobe—but instead of T-shirts and tattered jeans, he donned more professional corduroy slacks and button-down shirts.

Elliot lounged against a nearby wooden back-stock rack. “I’ll put you down for five hundred copies of our next month’s releases?”

Even when things had been good, he couldn’t have moved that many issues. “Sure. And toss in a thousand action figures, too.”

“So what have you been up to?” Elliot asked.

They bullshitted for a couple of hours, and as the sun vanished behind the mountains, Archer realized he needed to close up soon. He tried not to acknowledge that no one else had come in the shop during Elliot’s visit.

A familiar car pulled up out front. Tori had broken free of her self-imposed shackles for the night. That was a bright spot. He turned back to the conversation. Why did seeing her make him so happy? Tori stopped by all the time, and it had never before put this kind of smile on his face.

Then again, he’d never before had memories like those of the kiss, to draw from and expand on. The way her body molded to his. The soft, hungry swell of her lips. Her moans.

And that was a couple of kisses. Since Saturday, his imagination treated him to what it would be like to strip off her clothes, taste her smooth skin…

He pushed the thought away before it could make his cock any harder, and forced his attention back to business. The bell on the door chimed again, and Elliot looked up, pupils dilating when he saw Tori.

Archer bit back an unwelcome rush of jealousy.

Heavy circles hung under Tori’s eyes, but her smile was genuine when she looked at him. She held up a dry-cleaning bag, wrapped around what looked like red velvet. “Someone is supposed to come looking for this tomorrow.”

When Tori wasn’t babysitting the assholes who didn’t respect her, she designed and made custom costumes. She occasionally took commissions from Archer’s clients. If he remembered right, this was supposed to be a recreation of an outfit seen on one of those pseudo-historical dramas on cable.
The Tudors
, maybe?

He nodded behind him at a closet rod he’d suspended from the ceiling for her. “You know where it goes.”

She stepped around him, and her shoulder brushed his back. A jolt ran through him. That felt nice. Damn. What was wrong with him? Too long since he got laid, or something.

Seconds later, she took her spot on the stool across from him. He almost gave her crap about working too hard, but he wasn’t in the mood to be snapped at. Instead he settled for, “We missed you yesterday afternoon.”

“Trust me, I would’ve rather been here. I mean, that’s normally the case, but especially yesterday.”

An ache echoed through his knuckles, and he realized he’d clenched his hands into fists. He flexed his fingers until the blood flow returned to normal.

“This is beautiful work.” Elliot leaned over the counter to examine the dress, and rubbed a bottom corner of the hem between his fingers. “Really gorgeous. Have you ever thought about doing this full time?”

“Technically, I do.”

Except with the custom work, she got to pick and choose which outfits to make, instead of bowing to the whim of some underwear store. Working a little harder, to make ends meet, had to be better than the shit she put up with. It wouldn’t do Archer any good to say anything, though. She’d resent him for it and then close off, instead of actually dealing with the problem.

The conversation slid from one topic to the next, until Elliot checked his phone. “Whoa. I love chatting with you guys, but I have to be in Denver tomorrow, and I’ve got an early flight out. I’ll catch you later.” He looked at Tori. “Seriously, you need to do more of the costume thing.”

A new surge of jealousy tore through Archer, and he pushed it back. “She absolutely should. Catch you later, man.”

He almost—but not quite—felt bad for rushing Elliot out the door and locking it behind him, but it had been a long day.

He turned back to Tori, who’d moved from her spot on the stool and leaned against the glass, watching him with an unreadable expression. The stretch showed off how well her jeans hugged her hips, and drew his eye to the Nintendo logo across her chest.

“You sure you’re allowed to be away from work for so long?” he asked.

“I think they’ll survive tonight.” Even as she answered, she checked her phone again, the way she had every five minutes since she’d arrived.

He wished her reassurance matched her actions. “You’re sure?” He kept his tone light. “You’re not convincing me.”

She gave a half-laugh, half-sigh and pocketed her phone. “I can’t help it.”

Inspiration struck. He shouldn’t indulge the thought, but it wasn’t going to leave him alone unless he did. “Maybe I’m not distracting enough. If I kissed you again, could I hold your attention a little longer?”

“I—…” She fiddled with her fingers, not quite meeting his gaze. “It was really good, don’t get me wrong, but I’m sorry I teased you. And even if it was amazing, and even though I like hanging out with you, I don’t like you that way, and I don’t—”

He placed two fingers over her lips, to stop the babbling. “It’s okay. Really. We went over this yesterday morning. A kiss is just a kiss. Sex is just sex. I’m not asking you to mar—” the words
marry me
died on his lips. Why had he gone down that path? He had a different goal in mind. “To go out with me.”

She was blushing, and standing right in front of him. “How do you do that?”

“How do I… tease you?”

She laughed, and it sounded more natural this time. “Joke about sex, like it doesn’t mean anything.”

“It doesn’t. Or rather it has some meaning, and it can be amazing when it’s done right, but there doesn’t have to be any love attached to it.”

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. The pink in her cheeks faded, but her lips were still flushed and tempting. “You sound like Jen.”

“Can we not talk about my sister and sex in the same conversation?” He adored his sister—usually. But that didn’t mean he wanted to think about her now.

“Sorry. But seriously, I don’t know how you can say it doesn’t mean anything. Sex and love go hand in hand.”

“They don’t for me.” He didn’t know why he was beating his head into this brick wall. Tori didn’t think the same way, and he wasn’t going to convince her otherwise. But something—either stubbornness or the insistent throb of his cock—compelled him to keep talking. “Sure, you
can
have both. You don’t
have
to have both.”

“I get what you’re saying, but if it’s not… That is…”

Archer dug through his head for an appropriate response. This was one conversation he didn’t need her withdrawing from. “If your reason is you wouldn’t do it
just because
, then I’m cool with that. But if you’re thinking something specific, it doesn’t do either of us any good for you to not say it.”

“Since the sex isn’t that great even when I’m with someone I actually love, I can’t imagine it would be worth the trouble if there wasn’t an emotional connection.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she watched her shoes trace lines on the concrete.

He hadn’t expected that. Knowing her assumption was based on a past of bad sex made any response die before it surfaced. He considered his words carefully, still very much wanting to have the conversation and having no desire to piss her off. He couldn’t completely ignore the part of him hoping to change her mind. “It may not be emotion so much, as the other person involved.”

His confidence grew when she tilted her head to the side instead of scowling or storming away, and he continued. “And it may not have been him. It may have been you weren’t compatible with whomever. Different people have different kinks, and just because you find someone who’s got similar sexual preferences, doesn’t mean you have to love them. It simply gives you both a chance to get off, no strings attached.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

Damn, her shy flush was hot. He tried to push back his growing arousal and failed. “Finding the right buttons isn’t always so simple. The rest of it? It absolutely is. At least for me.”

“But— How do you know you’re both going to like it? Especially if you’re not dating.”

After the kiss the other night, he was pretty certain he’d enjoy it. And his experience told him Tori simply needed the right motivation to let loose. “You don’t know for certain, any more than you know how a relationship is going to go when you first start dating. Sometimes it’s incredible and there are fireworks, and sometimes… not so much.”

“I guess I get that.” Heat—both frustration and arousal—flooded Tori. “My brain doesn’t work like that, though. I sleep with a guy because I love him.”

“Your choice, definitely.” Archer hovered a few inches away, towering over her, his crossed arms accentuating broad shoulders, and the corner of his mouth pulled up in a smile. “I’m not trying to convert you, but you sounded curious about how the other half thinks.”

“I want to understand.” She should drop the subject or change it, or something. But the desire pulsing under her skin wasn’t convinced walking away was the right decision.

“I don’t know any other way to explain it. Short of a hands-on demonstration, I’m tapped for ideas.”

“So show me.” Her skin flared red-hot at the thought of his hands running over her in any sort of demonstration. Despite her protest moments earlier, now the idea was in her head it refused to relocate.

“You’re serious?”

“Unless you’re not interested,” she said. Given how close he stood, he had to be interested. “And the point is that it’s only physical, right? Teach me, oh wise one.”

“You’re sure?” He settled a hand on her hip, and studied her face.

She was anything but sure. But the slick warmth between her legs was positive. “Yes.”

“It’s easy. We already know we don’t like each other
like that
, right?” He dipped his head, lips brushing the outside of her ear, and his voice a whisper.

She knew that as much as she knew anything—she wasn’t interested in anyone who was on the rebound. “Right.” Her voice came out softer than she intended, and she winced.

He slid his lips along her jaw. “So, you keep that in mind as we progress into the physical.” He pressed his mouth to hers, the feather-light sensation sending sparks through her. She rose on her toes, to get closer, and he rested a hand at the small of her back. She parted her lips, and his tongue danced in and around hers. She dug her fingers into the defined muscles on his chest.

Every inch of her body was like a live wire when he pulled away. A dark look tempered his teasing. “We’re not madly in love now, right?” His voice had dropped half an octave.

“Right.” It was true. She still didn’t have any desire to commit herself to him, but she did want something else.

“And no one gets hurt if we keep going.”

She licked her lips. She wanted another taste. More than a taste. “Exactly.”

“Because here’s the thing.” He glided his mouth down her neck. “I know I said the kiss the other day was nothing”—he nipped at her shoulder—“but I can’t stop thinking about every single detail, and I’m real curious to see what else we can get up to.”

Each touch branded new images into her thoughts. In her limited experience, no other man’s voice sent electric tendrils through her, and she ached to discover what else he could do. “I’m game.”

It was as if those two words broke some kind of rein. His gentle touch vanished, and his low growl rolled through her. He tangled his fingers in her hair, tugged her head back, and crushed his lips to hers. She whimpered at the sudden hunger. She wanted to be closer. To feel more. To taste him completely.

“You really don’t usually enjoy sex?” He guided her back until her butt collided with the glass case near the register.

Oh, sure. He picked that out of everything she’d said. “Sometimes.”

He trailed a finger down her spine, and she arched her back at the light touch. “I’m not sure if you’ve set the bar too high, or if everyone else has been that bad.” His voice was low, but firm.

He didn’t have anything to worry about so far, and they’d only kissed. When he pushed up the bottom of her shirt, a groan escaped her throat. With calloused fingers, he caressed the sensitive skin along her waist. She forced out a response. “It’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want
fine
.” He nipped her earlobe, mouth hot and demanding against her skin. “I want every moan and gasp to be sincere.” He shoved her shirt higher and ran his thumb along her stomach. “Tell me what I have to do to make you scream.”

A new rush of apprehension flooded her. Or was that arousal? She couldn’t describe her desires out loud. “More of the same?”

“Hmm…” He danced his lips over the hollow at the base of her throat. “I guess we could do this all night. I was looking for something more specific and hoping for something more… graphic.”

He teased the bottom of her breast through her bra, and she leaned her head back, inhaling sharply at the seductive touch.

“You like that?” He traced his tongue up her collarbone.

She wanted his mouth lower. Wanted fewer clothes between them. She nodded.

“So tell me.”

“I can’t.” But the thought wasn’t as terrifying as she expected. Her blood pounded in her ears, and an insistent pulse raced under her skin. Every inch of her begged for attention.

He dropped his hand to her waist and moved his mouth to her ear again. “If you can’t say it, I won’t know you’re enjoying it.”

“Play with my nipples.” The words came out breathier than she’d intended, and speaking them made her heart thump faster. The need between her legs pleaded louder for attention.

He raised his mouth to hers and kissed her with intense hunger. With his fingers, he sought out the hard nub under her bra, caressed, and teased through the lace. Each time he crossed the rigid peak, a spike of pleasure tugged at her.

“Harder.”

He pinched the swollen flesh, tugging and rolling it between his fingers. She moaned at the sensation, as it stole the oxygen from her head, leaving her brain feeling like it was full of helium. They should go somewhere more private. Someplace that wasn’t a corner of his showroom. What if someone outside saw? Caught a glimpse of them through bookshelves in the dark room?

Instead of terrifying her, the possibility added to her arousal. Being part of an unintentional peep show made her even wetter. Driven by the combination of Archer’s touch and her new thoughts, she unclasped her bra. Her breasts tumbled loose as the tension binding them loosened.

She pushed out her next request. “Use your mouth?”

He shoved her shirt and bra out of the way and lowered his head. She gasped when he wrapped lips around her nipple. The sound seemed to spur him on. He flicked his tongue over the sensitive region, his teeth occasionally scraping her skin. She swayed her hips with each tug and lick. He blew lightly on the damp skin, sending a pleasant chill through her. He cupped her breast, thumb continuing where his tongue had left off, as he moved his head to the other side.

With his hand lavishing attention on one fleshy mound and his mouth worshiping the other, the ache of want from her sex became impossible to ignore. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him to her chest, but it wasn’t enough. She dropped her hand to his waist and then lower. Her surprised
oh
mingled with his groan when she traced the bulge through his jeans. “So big.” The words slipped out before she could consider them.

He shifted his weight against her, grinding into her touch. She caressed his cock through the denim, images of him pushing inside her dancing in her head and taunting her.

A flash of headlights passed over the window, before vanishing and leaving the room dark again. Tori’s pulse threatened to tear loose from her veins.

He moved his mouth back to hers, his hand still working. Then he broke the kiss and frowned. Her hammering heart skipped and tripped.

“No condoms.” His voice was heavy with disappointment.

“Don’t move.” Every inch of her protested when she broke away from him.

She could almost feel his gaze tracing her figure, as she bent over the glass, to grab her purse from under the counter. It didn’t quite make up for the loss of his touch, but it did short-circuit her brain in other ways. She liked the idea of being watched.

She plucked a condom from a side pocket and twirled back to face him.

“Do I want to know why…?” he said.

“The things you learn in college. My sorority sisters got more out of the spare I carried than I did, but since someone was using it, the habit never died.”

“Makes sense.” He grasped her fingers between his and led her toward the other side of the room and the tables and folding chairs his paper-and-pencil and figurine gamers used. He dropped into one of the seats and turned her to face him.

He settled his hands on her butt, and he pulled her closer until she stood between his legs. The interruption fled to the back of her mind, as she sank into the moment again. He traced his fingertips across the edge of her waistband, until he reached the button in the front. He laid a line of soft kisses along her stomach, as he undid her jeans. The combination of light and aggressive touches flooded her with a drive for more. She tugged her shirt and bra off, and then bent at the waist.

He didn’t wait for her to ask this time, before he flicked his tongue out over a hard nipple and then wrapped his lips around it. He crawled his hands over her hips, pushing her panties out of the way and brushing her ass on the way down. His words vibrated against her breast when he spoke. “Tell me what you want.”

“More.”

“More what?”

He was going to make her say it, and she realized the only thing bothering her was that she wanted to speak the words. This wasn’t her.

But apparently it was.

“Finger me.” The two words rolled off her tongue and made her clit pulse.

He nipped her skin with his teeth, pushed her upright, and shoved the rest of her clothes to the floor. “I love the way that sounds.”

She kicked her clothing aside. Heat flooded her skin when he looked her over, his gaze appraising and pupils wide.

One hand on her hip, he tugged her back to him. When he parted her lower lips with his fingers and brushed her swollen sex, a sharp gasp tore from her throat. He flicked over her clit, and sparks of pleasure shot through her. Waves rocked her body as he increased the pressure and speed of his attention.

She moved against him, the sensation leaving her light-headed. Tiny moans echoed from her throat each time he bumped her clit. His pace increased, and she whimpered at the rush tearing through her.

He moved his free hand to her leg, and glided his thumb down her inner thigh. The light feeling catapulted her over the edge. She pressed into his hand as she came, grinded on his fingers as the climax washed over her, and then pulled away when the touch became too much.

Her legs wobbled, and she reached out, to steady herself on his shoulders. She was too lost in the moment, to care about what she should or shouldn’t be saying. “I want you inside me.”

He unzipped and rose enough to free himself from his jeans, but didn’t take them off, before dropping back into the chair, and then turned her away from him. She heard the tear of foil, and seconds later, he led her back into him, his hands on her hips. He glided the head of his cock along her slit and nudged her aching opening, and she dropped down slowly, gasping as he slid deep inside her, stretching her.

He set the pace as she bounced against his thrusts. Another orgasm built. As they found their rhythm, he sought out her breast, and pinched and tugged in time with his thrusts.

“I’m so close.” She liked the sound of the words rolling of her tongue.

With his other hand, he followed the tender skin along her pelvis until he found her clit. He traced light circles around the still-tender area and moved his mouth along her spine and to the base of her neck. “Come for me.” His words caressed her skin

He dug his teeth into her shoulder as her bounces became more of a grind. Climax tore through her. She rode the sensation, clenching her pussy around his cock. His grunts grew punctuated, and he lay hungry kisses across her bare back. He pushed harder against her, almost frantically, and then, with one final groan, slowed to a stop.

She pulled his hands to her stomach and leaned back. His shirt was rough against her skin, and his heart hammered through her back, competing with her own. As they struggled to find their breath, he softened and pulled out of her.

“I don’t think anything that filthy has ever come out of my mouth.” She settled her head against his chest.

“That was definitely sexy, but I wouldn’t call it filthy. Riley says worse things than that every day.”

An unwelcome pain shot through her. She winced and jerked away. No attachment. Right. And that was why.

“Sorry.” His voice was soft in the dark room.

She grabbed her clothes and yanked them on as quickly as she could without tripping. “No worries. I need to get home anyway.”

Apparently he was wrong. There had been a lot of love in that act, just not between them. It wasn’t so hot to have a third person in the room, after all. At least not Riley’s ghost.