Page 44 of A is for Aftercare

I make the most unsexy noise imaginable as I drag myself awake. “It was amazing, Sir.”

“You like it rough?”

“Yes.”

He nods against my head. “Tell me about your idea for my book.”

“Now?” I almost laugh at the suggestion.

“Yes, now.”

I tell him the same idea I gave him on Wednesday, mumbling over the words because I’m tired. He’s silent after, and I eventually fall asleep.

When I wake, Hamish is sitting beside me, a laptop on his knees, his fingers flying over the keys.

12

Hamish

Two days in a row, Archie arrived early, sucked my cock, made me coffee, and got on with his job. I wrote. Words flying from my fingers like never before. Orion King, the character I’d been wanting to kill, took on a new life. The moment Archie turned his computer off, he was mine again. Both days, sex was like it had been on Monday—hard and fast, with Archie bent over the desk or pushed up against the kitchen cabinets. Both of us with our trousers and pants around our knees. Somehow taking him to bed, naked for sex, will make this thing between us more real. More serious. I’m not sure either of us is ready for that. We do go to bed to cuddle, both fully dressed. Each evening Archie has fallen asleep, and I’ve started writing again. Not Orion King’s story but Archer’s, the words appearing on my laptop screen as if by magic.

I expect him to arrive early on Thursday, but he doesn't. I stare at the last few paragraphs I wrote yesterday afternoon, my fingers resting on the keyboard. Nothing comes out. I look at the clock. It's almost nine, and still no Archie. He's always early, never late. Has he decided he's had enough? I glare at the phone, wondering if Valerie is going to call to tell me he's quit.

At five past nine, the front door opens and closes softly, and I hear the clump of shoes moving through to the kitchen. I follow.

“You’re late,” I say as Archie pulls a mug out of the cupboard.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” He looks tired.

“What’s wrong?”

“My niece had an accident yesterday and broke her wrist. She didn’t have a goodnight because she couldn’t get comfortable with a cast on her wrist. That means none of us slept well.”

"Your niece?" Does he have an older sibling who I don't know about?

“Lexi. She’s Corey’s daughter. We live together,” he adds. “I, Blake, Corey, and Lexi.”

Is that something I should have known before I started fucking my PA? I wonder where Lexi’s mother is, but I don’t ask. It’s none of my business. “I’m sorry about your niece,” I say instead. “Broken bones aren’t fun.”

Archie smiles wearily. “She’ll be okay. She just needs to get used to having the cast on. We ended up taking it in turns to cuddle her back to sleep so we all got at least a bit of sleep.”

“Do you need to go home?”

Archie’s eyes widen. “No. I’m fine. I’ll get an early night.”

I stay quiet as he makes my coffee. We’re on the clock now. By the rules I set, I’m not allowed to touch him. I’m definitely not allowed to order him onto his knees or to offer him a bed to sleep in.

I go back to the office and sit at my desk. I doubt the words are going to come easily today, but I try anyway, grunting my thanks as Archie puts my coffee beside me. He works quietly behind me. All I can hear is the clack of his keys as he types something. The morning drags on. I hear him yawn several times. He makes me more coffee than usual and drinks more himself. He makes us lunch but practically falls asleep face first in his.

“That’s it,” I say.

“What?”

“You need to sleep. Come on.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”