ARCHIE’S PRAISE AND MOAN OF pleasure sent happiness humming through my body like a current of low-voltage electricity. “I’ve never seen anyone put butter in tomato soup before,” Archie said after dipping his sandwich in the soup before taking a second bite. “Mmmm. How’d you know to do that?”
“It’s a trick I learned from a remarkable woman,” I told him. “I’m so used to putting it in there, I didn’t think to ask if you minded.” I tore off a chunk of my sandwich and dunked it in my soup. “It is good though, isn’t it?”
“Delicious. It makes me want to learn all your other cooking secrets.”
“I don’t have very many,” I assured him.
“This grilled cheese is one of the gourmet kind they charge twelve dollars for in New York City, but yours is much better. You could get at least fifteen for it,” Archie said after his third bite. “Throw some garnish on the soup, and you could get at least five dollars for it. Maybe more.”
“People pay twenty dollars for grilled cheese and tomato soup?” I asked, sounding incredulous.
“Gourmet grilled cheese and tomato soup.” Archie took another bite, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. “What kind of cheese did you put in this thing? I can tell it’s not American or Velveeta.”
“Velveeta? That’s not real cheese, Archie.”
“Since when? It’s great in macaroni and cheese and makes excellent nachos.”
“I can see I need to make you real baked macaroni and cheese so you can tell the difference between real and imitation.”
“I’ll let you prove it to me,” he said eagerly. “School me, Golden Boy.”
His use of the silly nickname stifled a little of the joy I felt when he made a fuss about my cooking. He wouldn’t think I was so golden when he learned the truth of my past. Archie could’ve learned a lot about me if he’d read my bio on my website. He either didn’t know the site existed or wanted a first-person account from me.
“You’re not eating,” Archie said, nodding to my sandwich and soup. “I hope it isn’t from the question I asked you, Ollie. You don’t have to answer anything that makes you uncomfortable. Especially on a first date as you pointed out.”
“I’m not hungry,” I told him. “I had a decent dinner before I went to bingo. Would you like my sandwich?”
“I can’t take food out of your mouth, Ollie.”
“You’re not,” I replied, sliding my plate across the table to him. His eyes said he wanted to devour the sandwich, but the slight frown on his lips expressed concern I was only being nice. “I’m offering it, and I’d rather you eat it than throw it away.”
Archie gasped like he couldn’t believe I’d do such a thing. If he only knew the things I’d done. I realized I wanted Archie to know the truth. If he was going to pull away from me in disgust, I needed him to do it before our relationship grew deeper.
“You need to know who I really am so you will stop putting me on a pedestal. I’m a man—born of flesh and blood and baptized by fire. I bleed when I’m cut, and I have scars no man can see. There is nothing pure, golden, or saintly about me. We are equals in all things, Arch.”
“Ollie—”
“Eat your soup and sandwich, Arch,” I said, cutting him off. “Talking and kissing await us.” I hoped.
“Nothing you say will disappoint me,” Archie boldly said, covering my hand on the table. He couldn’t possibly know that, but I appreciated his effort.
I ate a few more bites of soup while he ate my sandwich and finished his bowl of soup. “Would you like more?” I asked, partly hoping he’d say yes so I could delay our discussion and partly hoping he’d say no so we could get it over with.
“I couldn’t handle another bite. To the recliner, Golden Boy.” He didn’t say Bat Cave or call me Robin, but it had that same feel.
“Do you always speak in movie lines?” I asked, stalling for time.
“Only with people I like,” Archie said. “I’ll still like you after our little chat, so get the ridiculous notion that I won’t out of your head right now.” He wasn’t fooled by my tactics.
I led Archie to the dimly lit living room, and we discovered the recliner was definitely big enough for us both. We lay facing one another beneath the quilt Archie pulled off the back of it.
“Mrs. Fletcher from bingo made this for me for Christmas.”
“She’s very talented.” I nodded. “Ollie, I know you run an NA chapter which means you have a history with drugs, alcohol, or both.” Archie’s green eyes were relaxed and sincere with none of the hesitancy I was used to seeing. “I’m not disgusted or disappointed to know this about you.”
“What if I told you I spent six months in jail?”
Archie’s eyes widened then a crooked smile spread across his face. “Okay, you got me there. How long ago?”
“I was arrested the day after I turned eighteen, so fourteen years ago.”
“So, you’re thirty-two,” Archie said. “You look younger.”
“How old are you?” I asked. I knew he was older than Milo, but not by how much.
“Thirty-five.”
“You look ten years younger,” I said in awe.
“Good genetics, and I take excellent care of my skin.” Archie inched closer and slipped his hand around to rest on the small of my back. “What did young Oliver Knight do to end up in jail?”
“I broke into homes of the super-rich, stole their things then pawned them to buy food for runaway kids. I didn’t want them to turn out like me.”
“Turn out like you how, Ollie?” The fingers from his free hand ghosted over my chin.
“A drug addict and prostitute.”
The fingers on my chin stilled, and Archie closed his eyes, but not before I saw the pained expression. When he reopened them, all I saw was compassion and understanding. “Your story is way too common for our people. Abandoned and tossed on the street with no place to go. Is that what happened to you, Ollie?”
I could only nod.
“You think I’m disgusted by you? Did you think I’d judge you for doing whatever it took to get by?” Archie dug his fingers in my skin and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “It makes me respect you more. Look at who you’ve become, Ollie. Look at all the people you help. I don’t look at you and see a disgusting man; I see a man I’m proud to know. I’m dying to know the journey you took to reach this moment in your life, but I think we’ve done enough talking tonight.”
“We have?” I asked.
Archie nodded. “Don’t you think we’ve taken big steps tonight? We both opened up to each other. I think it calls for a kiss.”
I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer of thanks Archie still found me kissable. Archie rubbed the tip of his nose along mine ever so softly, making a sappy sigh escape my mouth. “Just kissing, right?” I asked, reminding myself more than warning him off.
“For tonight.” Archie kissed the tip of my nose. “Nothing below the neck.” As if his words were a command, I tilted my head back and exposed my neck to him. Archie lowered his head and sucked the tender flesh in the dip above my clavicle then licked a path up to my ear. “You taste better than I imagined.”
“You’ve been imagining what I taste like?”
“Wasn’t that your intent when you sent the racy text messages?” Archie asked, his breath ghosting hotly over my flesh and making goose bumps pebble on my skin. “You had to know they’d make me hard and aching for you.”
“Would you believe me if I told you I don’t normally send those types of texts?”
Archie lifted his head and looked into my eyes. “Really? You’re so good at it.”
“I acted on pure instinct. I recognized you wanted to brush me aside, and I wasn’t willing to go without a fight. Maybe, on some level, I wanted to show you I am a man with needs just like all others.”
“Being a pastor doesn’t change how you see sex?” Archie asked, hesitation returning to his eyes. “You don’t think it’s a sin to have sex out of wedlock?”
“My love of God doesn’t make my needs as a man go away. I still get blue balls and ache if I don’t let off some steam, but I usually take care of business myself. As much as I enjoy sex, I want it to mean more than just a physical exchange with a random guy.”
“Is it because it reminds you of your days on the street when there was no emotional connection? Just a transaction to survive?” Archie brushed the back of his hand over my cheek.
“I think it has a lot to do with it,” I admitted. “It took a long time and a lot of therapy before I could see sex as something healthy and good. Yes, my physical needs are sometimes at war with my theological beliefs, but I try to make decisions that are good for everyone involved. I need to be able to look at my reflection in the mirror and know I’m the best person I can be and the decisions I made didn’t bring harm to anyone. That’s my contract with God which is what Christianity really is—one’s personal relationship with God.”
“Two consenting adults enjoying one another’s bodies isn’t harming a single soul,” Archie said.
I nodded, but added, “There’s obviously more to it than being consenting adults. Adulterers and people in a position of power may gain someone’s consent before a sexual act, but it doesn’t make their actions right.”
“Of course,” Archie agreed then smiled. “Our conversation has steered into deep waters again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Archie said before lightly kissing my lips. “There’s no way for this to work between us without airing these things out.”
“And you want this to work out?” I asked hopefully.
Archie rubbed his nose against mine again. “I want to try.”
“Me too. This feels right to me.”
Archie slanted his head and pressed his lips to mine, gentle pecks at first before his tongue traced the seam between my lips. I automatically parted them, eager to feel his tongue inside my mouth again. Archie was gentle at first, teasing the tip of my tongue with his own before sucking mine into his mouth, making my dick throb and pulling a desperate groan from my chest. I slid my hand under his lacy shirt to feel the silky smooth skin underneath. I trailed my fingers over the hard planes of Archie’s abdomen, reveling in the way the muscles quivered under his skin.
He released my tongue and looked at me with hungry eyes. “I thought we were just kissing.”
“My fingertips are kissing your soft skin,” I countered.
“Well, my fingertips want to get in on the action too,” Archie said, reaching for the buttons on my shirt. “You wear the softest flannel shirts, and they invite a man to rub his face against them. God, how am I going to resist kissing every inch of you I reveal?” he asked after he freed two buttons from their prison. “But a deal is a deal.”
“Maybe we renegotiate,” I suggested. I wanted Archie’s lips working a path down my chest.
“Uh-uh. I don’t want you to have any regrets.” As if. The only way it would happen is if… Oh! I stiffened when I realized he still wasn’t comfortable with our situation. Heat and hunger had overshadowed his hesitation, but it was still there hiding in the wings. Archie freaking out and rejecting me after sex would be something I might not overcome. “Don’t pull away from me,” Archie urged, tightening his grip on my flannel.
“I’m still right here, Arch.”
“I felt you mentally checking out just now. Why?”
“I realized we’re not in the same place,” I admitted. “I’m ready to rush headlong into this, but you’re not.” I slid my hand up to cover his heart. I loved seeing the contrast between my darker skin and Archie’s fair skin beneath the lace. “What do you need from me, Arch?”
“Honesty and time. Life has taught me to be cautious. Unlike you, I’m okay with random hookups because I’ve been convinced it’s all I’ll ever have. In your eyes, I see the promise of more, and I need time to believe it’s real—that you’re real.”
“I can give you time, Arch.” And I would, no matter how desperate I was to know him in every possible way.
I wrapped my hand around his neck and pulled him back to me, lifting my head to meet him halfway. Our kiss wasn’t slow and tentative; it was hungry, wet, and filled with promise. Kissing Archie didn’t just involve our mouths; it was a full-body experience. My nerve endings fired to life, emitting messages of want and need and lust until I ached for him from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair. By this time, Archie had my shirt completely undone, pushing it open and touching me everywhere with his greedy hands. I was overcome with the need to at least feel his bare chest against mine.
The buttons on his shirt were much smaller than mine, and laughter reverberated in Archie’s chest when I struggled to get them open with my clumsy fingers. He reached between our bodies to undo them himself, but I pushed his hands away, swallowing his laughter. I would persevere. Archie’s laughter turned to guttural moans when I finally spread his shirt open and aligned our bodies so they pressed together from head to toe. Archie kissed me harder and gripped my ass, rolling and pulling me on top to straddle his hips in the recliner, pressing my raging hard-on tighter against his and urging me to rut against him. The friction sent shivers of pleasure racing down my spine.
I slid my hands in his hair, fisting the silky strands in my fingers while we kissed hungrily, desperately. I broke our kiss so I could look into his eyes. “Archie,” I whispered when I saw how far gone he was too. It would’ve been easy to convince him to go into my bedroom with me, but the time wasn’t right. That didn’t mean I couldn’t make him feel good and give him something fond to think about while we worked up to the point where I’d have him naked beneath me in my bed. I rocked my hips forward and back, months of need and lust spurring me on faster and harder.
“More,” Archie said, sounding as desperate as I felt. His body bowed beneath mine. He was close. I could feel it—smell it.
“Come for me, Arch. Show me how much I turn you on.”
He arched his neck and gritted his teeth. I leaned forward and sank my teeth in the tender part where his neck met his shoulder. Archie’s breath hitched then held for a few heartbeats before he released it on a grunt as he came, soaking the front of his jeans. “Ollie!” he cried out.
I came too, long and hard, while rutting against him. Archie captured my cries with his lips and held me tight in his arms once I collapsed on top of him. He ran his hands up and down my back, learning the curve of my spine while I fought to catch my breath.
“I haven’t done that in a long time,” Archie whispered.
I raised up and looked into his sated eyes. “What? Come?”
“Not in my pants,” Archie said with a wry smile. “This takes me back to my junior high days.”
I snorted. “Got an early start, huh?”
“You didn’t?”
I shook my head, hoping he’d let it go. I wasn’t ready to talk about my first sexual experience and the consequences I endured afterward. Archie must’ve sensed it was a touchy subject because he quickly kissed me to pull me back to him.
“Stay right here with me, Ollie.” He ran his hand through my hair, and I leaned into his palm.
Getting hot enough to come in your jeans sounds sexy until your underwear starts sticking to you. “Would you like to take a shower and borrow some of my clothes?”
“Throwing me out already?” Archie asked wryly.
“Of course not,” I replied, tweaking a hardened nipple. “You’re welcome to stay here tonight since you’re in an unfamiliar location and it’s almost midnight. We can throw our sticky clothes in the washing machine, and I’ll let you borrow a pair of my sweats to wear to bed.”
Archie tilted his head to the side as he considered my idea. “I really don’t want to run into the spooky corn children on my drive back home, and it is getting late. If it’s not too much of an imposition, I’d like to stay.”
“It’s not an imposition.”
“There’s just one problem, Ollie.” His expression and tone turned grave. Did he turn into a pumpkin after midnight?
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I sleep naked.”