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Archer

“I can’t wait to fuck you into the mattress.” Chevy nuzzled his nose behind my ear as we rode the elevator to the top floor of The Georgian Hotel.

A short ride, so I barely had time to respond.

My cock perked as the elevator door opened.

I grabbed the man’s hand and tugged him toward the room I’d secured. Best in the hotel, of course. I wanted to impress the guy.

We entered the room, and as he scanned the space, I took a moment to take him in. The bar where we’d shared drinks had been dimly lit. This space, with just the bedside lamps, wasn’t much brighter, but I was able to look my fill.

Tall. A couple inches over my own six foot one.

Broad. I worked out and had a decent-sized chest, but this guy bordered on beefcake.

Muscular. Again, I did circuit training, running, and swimming—I still didn’t have biceps like that. He’d purposely worn a tight T-shirt to show off. At least he’d had the decency to wear a suit jacket over the tee. The Georgian had a dress code, after all.

“This is a hell of a place. What did it cost you?” He met my gaze with dark-brown eyes I wished to get lost in as we fucked. I’d hoped to top, but he’d made it clear that was his role. And since my last gay experience was almost twenty years ago, I decided flexibility was important. I’d picked this guy because of his impressive dick pic, his love of his two dogs, as well as his way with words. After spending an hour in the bar with him, I doubted he’d written the bio himself.

“It cost a bit, but that’s not the point.”

“I bet they make a mean breakfast. I can’t wait.”

Breakfast? Seriously? “What about Bootsie and Copper?”

“Huh?” He blinked as if he couldn’t quite compute what I was saying.

“Your dogs? You sent me pictures of them. The two Labrador Retrievers? Don’t you need to eventually go home to them?”

“Oh. Right. They’re with…someone. They won’t miss me.”

For a guy who could center entire conversations around his dogs, this felt…off. I’d never had a dog, but I sort of saw them like children.

Which caused a pang in my chest. Almost fifteen years married and we’d never had children. Not a dog, either. And now, of course, Thea had left me for her trainer, and I was facing returning to an empty house. I’d thought a dating app was the solution to the loneliness, and since I was bi, I figured I might as well try that side of the app.

Chevy had been the first guy I connected with. The first one who didn’t want to hookup on day one. We’d talked. He’d gotten me out of my shell, and I’d shared things with him that my own family didn’t know.

His love of Bootsie and Copper had been so clear.

I’d been charmed. “Well, if you’re sure they’re okay—”

He waved me off. “All good. Now. You.” He turned to me and his gaze was nothing short of predatory.

He’d been handsy in the bar, which was kind of flattering. A long time since someone had paid attention to my physical needs. Sure, I was attractive—long, blond hair, gray eyes, a body I worked hard to maintain—but I was also someone who took his work seriously. I wanted tonight to be about flirty fun. I wanted to get away from the big case I was working on.

“Yes, me.” I slid my body against his. “I brought condoms and lube.” Because I wanted to be prepared, and I also had to make it clear those two things were non-negotiable.

“I like a man who’s prepared.” Chevy took my cheeks in his hands, squeezed, then narrowed the gap until our lips touched.

In my moment of surprise, he thrust his tongue in my mouth.

He tasted of Crown Royale and just a touch of…dominance. Like he needed to be the alpha. He needed to be top dog in this relationship.

After having spent fifteen years striving to be the best divorce lawyer in Vancouver, I wasn’t necessarily going to surrender my agency. If I let him control me for one night, how bad can that be? To let someone else shoulder the burden…? Except this didn’t feel like a shift in power dynamics like that. He wasn’t going to take care of me the way I took care of my family, my clients, and Thea—when she’d been my wife. I could be a selfish man at times—climbing to the top. But I could also be considerate and understanding—like attending Chelsea’s last bail hearing.

The sister from hell.

He grasped my upper arms, all while still kissing me, and walked me back toward the bed.

Yeah, okay. Except I still wore my very expensive suit and wanted to get out of it first.

I halted.

He nearly stumbled.

I grasped his suit jacket. “Maybe we can get undressed?”

He blinked. “Uh yeah, sure. I guess.” He yanked it off, grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. Only when his hands were on his belt buckle, did he look at me. “You want me to undress you or something? I kind of liked the idea of fucking you in that suit. A come-fuck-me suit .”

Like fuck-me heels? The only comparison I could come up with in my mind. “I’ll take it off quickly.” I moved to the desk and sat so I could remove my shoes. Then I stood and shucked my jacket, removed my shirt, unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my pants, slid down the zipper, and took them off as well.

Chevy had toed out of his boots, removed his jeans and boxers, and now stroked his cock.

Looks a bit smaller than the one in the photo, but it’s probably the lighting in here.

I hooked my thumbs in my boxer briefs. I wasn’t hard yet, so I was a little shy about showing my limp dick. Maybe I should’ve let him fuck me wearing the suit. Except I seriously planned on orgasming, and walking out of the hotel with a cum stain on my crotch didn’t appeal. Wait. You have jeans and a henley in your overnight bag.

So not the time to be worrying about cum stains.

I thought about Nolan. About how much I’d loved sex with my secret fuck buddy during undergrad. We’d gone separate ways and my life had changed radically upon meeting Thea.

Yeah, thinking about your ex-wife is not going to make you hard.

Finding courage, I lowered my boxer briefs.

Chevy chuckled. “I bet you’re big when you’re turned on.” He continued to stroke himself. “I’d love your sweet mouth on my cock. A way to shut you up.”

Shut me up? I tried to run through our conversation during our time at the bar. Politics—probably not a good idea, but with the way things were going, I wanted to ensure I didn’t wind up with someone who didn’t hold the same progressive views I had. We’d touched on my job as a solicitor, and although I’d tried to get him to talk about his corporate job, he didn’t give up any specifics. Perhaps I should’ve asked about the dogs sooner? His babies had always been a topic he could go on about. Except a few minutes ago, he’d been dismissive of them.

“Uh…maybe next time? It’s been a while for me.” Chicken shit. If he offered to suck you off, you’d totally go for it .

Points for honesty.

His eyes flashed. “Next time? I like the sound of that.”

Something tells me he’s not going to pay next time either. He’d left his wallet at home, so I’d covered the drinks as well as the hotel suite. God knew, I could afford it. So stop whining and take advantage of that erect cock.

Right.

I grasped myself and tried to coax some action below. Shouldn’t have been difficult. Aside from the smaller dick, he was an objectively handsome guy. And that shouldn’t have been the only factor to consider. His witty banter and love of his dogs were what had truly drawn me here tonight—yet neither of those had been on display. Instead, he’d come across as coarser. But he’d been kind to our server, Tracey. Just think about how good this is going to be.

Right.

“I just need a little time…” Come on, cock. A little perkiness would be appreciated. Almost like I had performance anxiety—although I never had before. That being said, one gay lover in college and one wife didn’t exactly give me tons of experience.

Chevy chuckled. “Look, this is the first time since your ex left you, right? She’s probably claiming you beat her or something to get more money from you. Am I right? Women are always out for what they can get. That’s why I keep my wife on a tight leash. She’s at home with the kids and the dogs, but I’ve got cameras watching her. She knows better than to misbehave, and I have our lives recorded, so she can’t ever accuse me of beating her.”

I just stood there, stunned. I didn’t even mention Thea—who is not accusing me of beating her—and he spouts off about his wife.

The wife he neglected to mention in all of our previous chats.

I marched over to where he’d dropped his clothes in a big heap

Probably expects his wife to clean up after him.

Unceremoniously, I shoved them into his arms, hitting his boots hard against his chest. “Look, Chevy—” I said the name with as much distaste as I possibly could because, seriously, the guy was named after a car company? “—I could give myself more pleasure with a marshmallow then you ever could with that little limp dick, and if your wife ever needs a good divorce attorney, make sure she knows I wouldn’t charge her.” I yanked the door open and gestured for him to leave—heedless of who might be in the hall to witness this humiliating spectacle.

“Dude, I’m not even dressed. What is your—”

“Security can be here in a heartbeat. I suggest you get your beefy ass and your little dick out of here before I call them.” I pointed.

He clearly considered the odds of taking me on and how, as a lawyer, I might destroy him. He didn’t seem like the shiniest penny in the jar, but he clearly saw when the odds were stacked against him.

Head hung, he scooted out.

I slammed the door. Then threw the safety bar.

But derived little satisfaction from the gesture.

Oh my God, I wouldn’t touch him with a hundred-foot pole.

Not if he was the last man on earth.

What was I thinking?

Except now I was alone in a very expensive room with lube, condoms, a few toys, and a long night stretching out ahead of myself.

I could walk out. Just pack up my stuff, put my suit back on, and head out into the dreary, cold night.

And that also would mean going home to an empty house, shitty memories, and papers I don’t want to deal with.

Well, that was all true.

I pulled my boxer briefs back on—thank Christ no one had been in the hall and had wandered past while I stood there naked with my rather impressive but still very flaccid cock hanging out.

Huh. He’s smarter than I am. He knew what a horrible choice Chevy would’ve been.

Why did all the guys I knew named Chevy have to be dicks? I knew there were tons of perfectly reasonable, sane men named Chevy, but karma hadn’t seen fit to send any my way yet.