Page 41 of Hunt Me

“Arhe. I’m not pronouncing it right, am I?”

His lips quirk. ‘Fingerspell.’

I do, slower than I would for a Deaf friend but quick enough. ‘ARHE.’

He snorts loudly and shakes his head. ‘Why do you think that’s my name?’

I freeze, my brows meeting. ‘What do you mean?’

He repeats the spelling, then shakes his head and scrapes his thumb under his chin before pointing to his chest. ‘Not me.’

My eyes go wide, and embarrassment squeezes around my neck with heavy heat. “What do you mean? Your brother told me your name.”

‘Which?’

It takes me a second to remember each of their names. ‘Milo.’

His lips curl up at the corners, a full smile on display. It takes my breath away. He doesn’t look dangerous right now. He looks young, carefree. Shaking his head, he grabs me by the wrist andkisses the tips of my fingers before letting me go. ‘ARCHIE,’ he spells. ‘My name.’

My mouth drops open. “What?” The embarrassed heat becomes hot magma, rushing into my cheeks.

‘Milo is very bad at ASL. Worst at spelling.’

I want to crawl under the floorboards. Or maybe into that coffin. I attempt to let my knees buckle, but Arhe—no, Archie—wraps an arm around my waist to keep me up as I sag against him. “I can’t believe I was calling you Arhe this entire time,” I groan against his chest.

He meets my gaze, then shrugs. ‘Doesn’t matter. Only this matters.’

And fuck. He’s right.

11

DENVER

Archie leans backand tips my chin up, his eyes twinkling, and then he leans down, and his mouth meets mine. The kiss is rough, full of sharp teeth and bossy tongue, but I lean into it, letting his strong arms pull me into him, giving back just as much as he’s giving me.

My entire body is on fire now, but for different reasons. I’m warm all over and pulsing with need. He must feel it, too, because he grinds against me, holding me tightly, his hips arching into mine.

He’s just as hard as me, I notice, as he notches his dick along the side of my side and begins to gently pulse his hips.

I moan, and he swallows it down with another kiss, the fire now consuming me. I’m lost in it, lost in him. I have no idea where I am or what’s coming next, but I don’t fucking care. This is better than the graveyard. Better than the supply closet. It’s so much more, and as much as I don’t know what to do with myself, I don’t care because I know Archie is going to take care of me.

He lifts me up into his arms, walking us backward as I wrap my legs around his waist, and I hold on as we kiss and kiss and kiss. And when we fall onto his mattress, we do it together, mylegs still curled around his back, hands twisted in his shirt. His fingers push into my hair as he devours me, taking me for all I’m worth and then a little more.

When he finally pulls away, I chase his lips, but he stops me. It seems he has other plans.

Reaching between us, he attempts to rip my zipper down and pull my fly open. When it doesn’t yield easily, he leans over and grabs something off his nightstand. I can do nothing but watch as a knife appears and he flicks it open, showing me the thick, adorned base and the deadly, sharp edge.

But I’m not afraid.

Somehow, I know he would never hurt me.

His gaze isn’t on my eyes, but it’s locked on my throat, where I’m swallowing thickly, and then he traces it down—as heavy as a touch—until it reaches my crotch. The blade flicks against the fabric of my pants, one side, then the other. Sitting up on his knees, he drags the knife down and down until they fall away from my skin, leaving me only in my silk panties.

Leaning down on one arm, he flicks the knife in his fingers and then drags it along the side of my thong, and the fabric splits like soft butter. He removes the silk from my body with a twist of his wrist, leaving me completely bare from the waist down.

His eyes settle on my hard cock, and a bead of precum rises to the tip as though tempting him to taste. He gives in, reaching out, and swipes it away with his thumb before bringing it to his lips. His eyes meet mine as he sucks it into his mouth, and as though my body is moving without my permission, my legs spread open farther.

His eyes darken more as he tugs at my shirt, his knife dragging down the middle, taking away the one last piece of fabric separating my skin from his. The flush on my neck grows deeper, and my nipples pucker under his unwavering attention.