Breaking: Fall or Break, Book 2 (27 page)

Archer gave him a quizzical look. “What just went through your head?”

“Whether or not I’d rather you shaved,” Conrad whispered.

Then their mouths clashed and if there had ever been any doubt who lay on top of him, it was swept away. The kiss was hard and raw, wet and open. Pure Archer. Conrad clutched at Archer’s back while Archer had his hands cupped around Conrad’s neck as they rolled on the sand. Their tongues lunged harder and deeper into each other’s mouths as they humped and writhed together. Conrad tugged at Archer’s top until he could get his hands on the skin of his lower back. Archer’s fingers wormed into the rear of Conrad’s shorts, one finger driving down the crease of his butt hard enough to make Conrad suck the air from Archer’s lungs.

“Fu…ck,” Conrad gasped.

Archer panted into his face. “I missed this.”

“When did we last roll around on the sand?”

Archer rocked his hips into him, his erect cock rubbing alongside Conrad’s, their shorts wrinkling between them, the friction ratcheting up Conrad’s desire. Somewhere in the small, sensible section of his brain he knew this was reckless. They were in full view, probably appalling and traumatizing local dog walkers who’d no doubt call the police. They’d get arrested for indecent behavior in a public place and that would be his career up the spout. But all that worry was subsiding under an avalanche of lust, getting buried deeper and deeper under want and need, and the four-letter word he would not let himself say.

“Thought…I’d lost you,” Archer groaned.

Cold sea water splashed over them and they rolled apart with gasps of alarm followed by laughter.

“Fuck.” Conrad pushed to his feet, dripping wet, freezing cold.

The wave that had broken over them was still surging up the beach around their feet as they paddled out of the water. Deefor sat watching, nowhere near the sea, a disdainful look on his face as if he couldn’t believe the childish way they were behaving. Conrad was relieved to see no one watching.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” Archer echoed the words Conrad had said to him lying on the kitchen floor.

Conrad smiled. “Come on before we freeze.” He put on a burst of speed in his sodden trainers. “You still have to catch me.”

He could feel Archer behind him and then he was in front, sprinting up the path to the house before turning with a grin on his face.

Note to self, this guy needs to win sometimes.

But not all the time.

“Door’s not locked,” Conrad said.

Archer glared. “Haven’t you learned anything?”

Conrad pushed him inside, let Deefor in before he shut the door and slammed Archer up against it. “Oh I’ve learned plenty. Deefor, close your eyes.”

Bodies plastered together, they stripped out of their wet clothes, staggering around the kitchen, salty mouths welded together, not willing to lose that contact as they fought to get themselves and each other naked. They were never still, groping, caressing and grinding their hips until Conrad thought his head would explode. He kissed Archer’s face and throat and neck, and when he bit him and Archer groaned, Conrad shuddered with pleasure.

They finally came to a halt against the bedroom door, fingers threaded in each other’s hair, their other arms trapped between their bodies, hands on cocks, clinging tight as if they were about to be swept away.

Except that had already happened.

Conrad was adrift, marooned, tumbling with no tether, but that was okay because Archer was with him—his lifeline.

“I want you in my life,” Conrad whispered. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

He had more he wanted to say but for a change, he found talking difficult. There were words the pair of them weren’t yet ready for. If said too soon he might ruin everything. Foreheads pressed together, their hands worked their cocks harder and their breathing turned harsh.

“Oh fuck,” Conrad gasped, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Archer dropped to his knees, planted his hands on Conrad’s thighs, and rubbed the stubble of his cheeks down each side of Conrad’s groin as he kissed his cock. The sensation of warm wet kisses and the abrasive texture of Archer’s cheeks made Conrad’s knees shake.

“I waited so long for this,” Archer whispered. “All my fucking life.”

He laid a trail of the gentlest, sweetest kisses over Conrad’s belly before he took the tip of his dick in his mouth and rolled his tongue around it. Not enough. Conrad needed more. He wove the fingers of both hands into Archer’s hair, shoved him down hard, made him take more. Deep moans, short grunts and cries spilled from his lips as Archer worked his magic. He’d dug his fingers into the crack of Conrad’s butt, rocking him into his mouth so they were both bent on the same mission.

Conrad stopped thinking about what he was doing; swept up in sensation he was on perfect autopilot, a steady flight to his destination except he didn’t want to get there too fast. The rhythm of Archer’s hands and mouth was relentless and Conrad couldn’t believe he hadn’t already come. He was supposed to be in charge and somehow Archer had taken over and the thought made him laugh.

When Archer pulled back to gulp air, Conrad tugged him to his feet, over to the bed and pushed him onto his back. “My turn. Don’t come until I tell you.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Conrad’s smile made Archer feel as if the sun had come out in his chest. He could barely believe he was here, lying on Conrad’s bed with that luscious mouth around his dick. He’d never thought of himself as lucky and now he knew he’d been wrong. Everything in his life had led to this point, to this man. Conrad was his reward for every bad thing that had happened. Archer struggled to describe the feeling in his chest but he could feel it growing, a sort of warm comforting sensation and he knew there was fuck all he could do about it even if he wanted to.

It wasn’t just sex. They
did
need each other. They fit together body and mind, and although they’d rushed back here and were all over each other, there was no need to hurry because Archer wasn’t going to let this man go. Ever.

He groaned through gritted teeth as Conrad’s expert mouth took him deep and the head of his cock hit the back of his throat. When he didn’t think he could stand another moment without coming, a firm grip around his root stopped his orgasm in its tracks. Conrad dropped his mouth to pull one ball and then the other between his lips. Ultrasensitive, so close to releasing their load, the sensation was of agonized delight.

Archer widened his legs, stroked Conrad’s head and sighed with relief when his mouth deserted his balls and drifted to the strip of smooth skin beyond. The relief was short-lived. Conrad sucked, Archer’s toes curled, the muscles clenched in his thighs and his hips bucked almost hard enough to throw Conrad off.

“Fuck,” Archer gasped. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll fuck you in a minute,” Conrad said and Archer laughed.

Conrad fluttered his tongue over Archer’s hole and he sucked in a breath. He was too close for any amount of rimming. His balls drew up, their sac pulling snug to his body and tightening. Conrad did some nippy teasing fuckerish thing around the crest of his cock, twisted his finger into his arse to stroke his prostate, and the growing tension in the back of his head spilled over in a flash flood that swept the length of his spine and into his balls. He wanted—and what he wanted flew from his head as his cock pulsed and jerked, launching him into orbit.

Jet after jet spurted from his cock until he wondered if he’d stop, wondered if Conrad would drown, how he’d explain that to his father, and then his cock calmed, though aftershocks rattled his body. When Conrad crawled up, Archer yanked him into his arms and kissed him, kissed the remaining come from his mouth, kissed him so Conrad couldn’t see that his eyes were moist, kissed him because it was all he could do.

“Are you going to get better and better at that?” Archer managed to say.

“Absolutely.”

“Christ, I’ll be dead in year.”

Conrad stared into his eyes. “Not funny.”

Archer smiled. “I don’t have any experience of a relationship, but it usually tails off after a while, doesn’t it?”

“Not between us. We won’t let it.”

Archer slid his hand onto Conrad’s cock and Conrad gripped his wrist to pull him off.

“I don’t want your hand or your mouth.”

Archer swallowed. “What do you want?”

“You—face down.”

When Archer hesitated, Conrad gripped him by the shoulders and flipped him over.

“Shut your eyes and don’t move,” Conrad said.

“I’m not allowed to move?”

Conrad laughed. “Just while I go and get a couple of things.”

Archer shivered when he felt Conrad’s breath on his neck. A press of his teeth and Archer thought he’d sink through the bed. The feeling of vulnerability turned him on yet still worried him.

“What things?” Archer forced out.

“A fifteen-inch dildo, penis plug, cock ring, ball stretcher and ice cream.”

Every muscle in his body tensed. “You’re joking, right?”

“We don’t have any ice cream.”

Archer opened his eyes when Conrad’s weight came off his back but the guy went no farther than the bedside cabinet and pulled out lube and condom.

“What happened to the fifteen-inch dildo?” Archer asked. “I’m disappointed now.”

“Careful what you wish for.” He knelt on the bed between Archer’s hips.

Archer twisted to look at him. “I’ve got what I wished for.”

Conrad gulped. “Now I’m going to last one minute instead of two.”

Archer turned and smiled into the pillow. He clenched his butt as lube trickled down the seam of his backside and goose bumps popped up on his arms as Conrad’s fingers speared into the cleft of his cheeks and zeroed in on the pucker of his anus.

“You’re so tight,” Conrad said with a groan. “And I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I.”

Conrad let out a strangled grunt. “You mean that?”

Archer turned to look at him. “I’ve been waiting a long time for someone to trust, for me to allow myself to trust. Not just that. I was waiting until I was loved. Until I loved.”

Did I just say that?
Conrad looked struck dumb with shock.

“I love you,” Archer said and felt as though he’d suddenly become weightless. “I know I’m a pain in the neck, too introverted, too self-absorbed. I don’t deserve you, but I do love you.” He waited a beat. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“You don’t deserve me. But you can keep trying to deserve me. Just as I’ll keep trying to deserve you. Now shut up because you’re putting me off.”

Archer felt the rounded crest of Conrad’s cock push against his hole and he tensed.
Shit. I’ve done this before. I know it feels good so fucking relax.
Conrad tightened his grip around his hip, holding Archer steady as he kept up the pressure against his hole.

“Christ,” Conrad groaned. “Let me in.”

“Fucking do it,” Archer blurted. “Fuck me.”

“I’m trying.”

Conrad let out a burst of laughter, and Archer laughed too.

“Did you heal up or something?” Conrad panted, wriggling his hips to push harder.

“Stop messing around and do it.”

“I’m trying to be considerate.”

Archer bore down. “Fuck considerate.”

Conrad shoved and Archer felt the thick crown pop through and even as his muscles spasmed around the invader, he wanted it deeper, harder. He pushed his hips up into Conrad, and as Conrad slid his cock deep in one long thrust, discomfort switched to pleasure and forced a shuddering groan from Archer’s lips.

“Fuck me,” Archer gasped.

“I am. The Argentinean lake duck was otherwise occupied.”

How come everything this guy said made him smile? Conrad eased down until he lay on Archer’s back, the heat and weight of his body almost as much of a turn on as the cock in his arse. Conrad slid his hands down Archer’s arms until he reached his wrists, then he gripped tight.

“I love you too,” Conrad said.

“You’re not just saying that because you have your cock in my arse?”

Conrad pulled out. “Nope. It appears not. I still love you.”

Archer smiled into the pillow as Conrad pushed deep again, arching his hips and brushing Archer’s prostate on the way, and he kept hold of his wrists.

“Oh God, fuck,” Conrad mumbled. “Don’t move.”

The speed of his Conrad’s thrusts increased and Archer moaned with pleasure. Everything Conrad did felt good. Impossibly, he could feel his own cock unfurling against the sheet. The force behind Conrad’s thrusts changed tempo into longer drives and Conrad’s grip on his wrists intensified.

He felt Conrad’s cock swell inside him and Conrad’s long groan vibrated through him. A switch back to short fast jabs and then Conrad was crying out as he emptied himself. Archer used his muscles to clamp down on Conrad’s dick, milking him of the remnants of orgasm. Conrad slumped limp onto Archer’s back, releasing his wrists, his mouth pressed against Archer’s neck.

“What’s your name?” Conrad asked.

“Forgotten already?”

“I might have lost a few brain cells there but I mean the one you were born with.”

“Shahzad Durani.”

Conrad rolled off his back, disposed of the condom and lay on his side facing him. “Where did that come from?”

“My father. It was on my birth certificate. My mother gave me her surname, Woods, so I guess my father hadn’t stuck around. Maybe she hoped giving me his name might make him stay. My file with social services showed they’d tried to find him. He was an Afghani national. But there was no trace.”

“Shahzad.” Conrad tried out the word.

“I was called Zad when I was a kid. Bit too close to sad. It fit me well.”

“Do you want to be Zad or Archer?”

“I think you’d rather call me Archer.”

“Why?”

“Shahzad means son of the king. As a prince, I outrank you.”

Conrad laughed. “So it’s true. Someday my prince will come.”

Archer rolled over, his cock fully erect again. “How right you are.”

Epilogue

Archer sat in the public gallery listening to Conrad’s spirited defense of a guy accused of arson and got a hard-on. He had the same problem every time he came to court. Wearing his gown and wig, Conrad looked so controlled and confident, it made Archer think of those occasions when he didn’t look like that at all. Times when Conrad pushed Archer’s legs back to his chest and fucked him hard and fast, when Archer pressed Conrad’s face to the wall and fucked
him
hard and fast
.
A wild Conrad with his hair disheveled, sweat beading on his face, his eyes bright as the sky and a smile on his lips. Both versions of Conrad were equally hot.

The tattoo hadn’t happened yet but Archer was still working on it. But he’d persuaded Conrad to have his nipples pierced and he thought about them under that starched exterior. Only Archer knew Conrad’s secrets. Only Conrad knew his.
Fuck it.
He crossed his legs before he freaked out the woman sitting next to him.
I love him so much it fucking hurts. I thought I was too broken to mend and he proved me wrong. I can’t imagine a day when he’s not by my side. When we die, I want us to die together, hand in hand. I can’t live without him.

Archer released a shaky breath. It was as if all his emotions had been bottled up over the years and Conrad had pulled out the cork. He made Archer feel safe.
He
was supposed to be the one who took care of Conrad but it turned out it was the other way around. Conrad kept
him
safe.

After this case was done they were going to stay for a couple of days with Conrad’s father. Things were better between them and Archer was glad about that. Archer had made another attempt to locate his father but records in Afghanistan weren’t easy to access without going to the country and Conrad had put his foot down about that. Not that it would have stopped Archer if he’d really wanted to go but it felt good to have someone who cared about his safety.

Archer worked for Conrad now alongside Sev. Archer didn’t mind Conrad telling him what to do as much as he thought he might. Even in bed. He didn’t need to work, but he wanted to, at least as long as Conrad still wanted to. He’d discovered he was good at evidence gathering, and enjoyed learning more about the use and misuse of technology—computers, cameras, mobile phones. Sev was careful to stay within the bounds of the law and Archer followed his lead.

Neither he nor Conrad had any idea of what had happened to Kinsale. The SIS didn’t wash their dirty linen in public but Conrad’s father had told them they’d never hear from the fucked-up bastard or about him again. Well, he hadn’t used the words fucked-up or bastard. Morgan’s gang had imploded after the death of its leader and was no longer a threat to Conrad, and the illegal armament business was down a few people. The sad thing was that others would step in and take their place. All this had accomplished very little except perhaps ridding the SIS of a bad man.

Sometimes Archer let himself wonder what had driven Kinsale to sell out. What had he wanted the money for? A sick wife? Sick kid? A fast car? Maybe he was being blackmailed. He hoped Conrad’s father would be able to tell them one day but Archer also resented wasting a moment more of his life thinking about it.

The judge called an end to the day’s proceedings and Archer sighed with relief. He could still hardly believe he had another chance at an ordinary life. Though life with Conrad would never be ordinary. The guy had saved him over and over. It was still happening.

The clerk opened the door of Conrad’s room and closed it behind Archer. Conrad stood against the window, still wearing his gown but his wig was on the desk. His hair was all ruffled and Archer thought he was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.

“Ready to go?” Archer asked.

Conrad’s eyes darkened. “Lock the door.”

Archer turned the key and smiled.