My Darling Mayhem
: Chapter 10

It didn’t matter that my neighbor was sitting in my living room, waiting for me to return.

At least, that’s what I kept saying to myself repeatedly after kissing Cruz’s forehead while putting him to bed. I had crept down the hall on my tiptoes to see if Archer was still there. He was standing in front of my fridge, inspecting all the postcards that littered the surface.

Slinking back toward my room, I quickly tugged my oversized cardigan off and threw it on the chair in the corner of my room. I wore a thin tank top with spaghetti straps, showing my tan shoulders and white bra. My gaze slid over to my closet.

I should change.

No.

I wasn’t going to do that, not for him. I was fine.

But as I passed the mirror, I nearly gasped. My sweats had a suspicious brown stain near my inner thigh.

“Oh my god!” I gasped, sliding them down in a panic. How long had that been there? Did he see it?

I pulled it up to my face and inspected the stain, knowing it was probably chocolate because that’s what I had been snacking on earlier. Irritated, I tossed them in the hamper and slipped into loose pajama shorts. They were on the shorter side and gaped a bit in the legs, which meant I’d have to be careful when I sat, but they made my ass look fantastic, and since I’d just shaved my legs, it was a win-win. While I was standing there, I put on a few swipes of mascara and lip gloss before fluffing my hair and walking back out. I left my sweater behind and tried to breathe, so when I reached Archer, all I would do was talk about the logistics of the fence, keeping it casual.

“Hey.” I smiled at him as I rounded the corner. He was inspecting Montana, squinting at something on the image.

“Are these all places you’ve traveled?”

His blue eyes flitted over my face quickly as if he was waiting for me to confirm something. Then dropped to my legs, where they narrowed.

“Nope. We haven’t gone to a single one; they’re goal locations.”

Archer’s jaw ticked as his gaze moved up. He gently returned the postcard to the fridge and placed the weaker-than-average magnet in place to secure it.

“How come you haven’t gone yet?”

I shrugged, “Money…time…work…my car.”

He nodded, then gestured at Montana again. “I want to take Kane to Yellowstone sometime. Go see a few national parks and let him ride a horse. I think he’d really like that. I heard of this cool ranch where they let you stay on the property and care for your chosen horse that week like a real rancher.”

“He would love that, Archer.”

I was about to ask him about his custody arrangement with Kane, when he approached me, his face somber.

“Look, I know I said it to Cruz, but I wanted to tell you, I’m sorry. I know I messed up by allowing the club to come out. I never should have allowed any of that to happen. Cruz could have gotten hurt, and I know you probably won’t ever trust me now, but I just needed to be sure you knew that I was sorry.” His eyes seemed tired as if this apology took the rest of whatever reserve he had in him.

The apology tugged and pulled at my pride, melting it into empathy.

“Thank you for apologizing. I appreciate that.” I had to change the subject because my neck was hot, and Archer was looking at me like he wanted to kiss me. Not that I would hate it if he did kiss me, but suddenly, the idea of being kissed by him made me feel nervous.

Moving past him, I cleared my throat. “If you don’t mind me asking…where are you at in the custody process?”

He brought his hand up behind his neck and tugged on his hair before blowing out a breath.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t pry.” I opened the fridge and pulled out two cans of sparkling water. I handed him one and walked toward the living room. Once I’d crossed my legs on a cushion, I cracked the top of the can and took a sip, letting him decide what he wanted to do.

“Can I slip out of my boots and join you…or?”

I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear, trying not to freak out over getting to see him in his socks. “Of course.”

He carefully slipped out of his motorcycle boots and set them near the patio door, then sat beside me on the couch. “You’re not prying…I think we’re past that. At least, I hope we are.”

His eyes found mine over the top of his can as he sipped. I fought a smile as I touched the can. “I certainly think so…your motorcycle ran through my fence, so⁠—”

“Not my motorcycle, let’s get that straight.” Archer half-turned toward me, leaning closer to my side of the couch.

I shifted so my back was against the armrest, and I was facing him, which allowed me to push his thigh with my foot. “Tell me.”

He gave out another sigh. “The foster parents are great and aren’t making this any harder, which I appreciate, but the state seems to think Kane is better off with them or someone from the state than me. I have to prove that I’ve had my job for long enough and have been established long enough…the house is a great start, but they want me to have some time in it to be sure I won’t move around again. They want Kane to be established in a school without having to leave. So basically, we’re just waiting. Kane’s case worker doesn’t particularly like me, so that’s not helping things.”

“Can you get a new one?”

“The system is overwhelmed. They’re overworked, and things that should only take days take weeks. Sometimes months. By the time I got a new one and had them caught up to speed on everything…it’d be like we were walking backward. My best hope is that I can win her over.”

I considered what he’d said and felt my heart pinch with pity, which I knew he didn’t want. Still, what he was doing was admirable. I pushed his leg again with my bare foot until his eyes were on me.

“Why did Kane go into the system to begin with? You mentioned that your dad isn’t a good guy…but did something happen?”

“I feel like if you’re going to kick me and ask me personal questions…” He gently pulled my foot in his hand. “Then I get to at least touch you while you do it.”

A flush worked into my neck and face, but I didn’t move my foot. His warm hands felt heavenly.

“Might as well massage it while you explain,” I flexed my foot, wiggling my toes.

The smile that stretched along his handsome face warmed something deep and low in my belly. A piece of his blond hair fell over his forehead as he leaned forward and tucked my foot into his chest. He started talking before I could even process how my heel had grazed his thigh, which felt like⁠—

“My father is a dangerous man. He was a member of Mayhem Riot…a founding member, but twenty years ago, he double-crossed the president. Nearly got him killed, and several other members too. He took off before anyone could replace him. He left both me and my mom. We were too broke to move, so I grew up in the shadow of the club that hated my father and, for some reason, couldn’t stay away. So when I was fifteen, I pledged.”

“What does pledging mean?” I shifted so I was sliding my other foot into his lap. His smirk had heat sliding down my chest, pooling in my core. The thickness along his thigh pulsed, but I ignored it because that seemed easier than acknowledging that he was getting hard just holding my foot.

With a gentle touch, he transitioned from rubbing one foot to the other. “Pledging is similar to putting in a job application, but it’s to belong to a club, and there’s no money involved. If they think you’re a good fit, they put you through a ton of shit and see if you stick around.”

I tilted my head, smiling. “So it’s like a fraternity?”

“Yes and no…a one percenter motorcycle club pledge looks much different than some hazing in a fancy private college. The club president was hesitant to accept me, but his men convinced him that I hated my old man more than any of them did, and I might be more loyal to them than to him. So he let me in, made me a prospect, had me do some truly terrible shit…then he gave me a job so I could help support my mom.”

“Weren’t you in school?”

His thumb pressed into my arch, and I nearly rolled my eyes back. My ass slid down an inch or so, extending my leg so he had better access. I was aware that my shorts were slightly sliding up, but I was as in denial about that as I was about grazing his erection.

“I dropped out…got my GED when I was eighteen, went to a trade school for about two years until I decided I wanted to join the club. At that point, I had been a member for several years and moving up in the ranks.”

His hands cradled my foot, slowly moving his thumbs over the tender places in my soles, then gently over each toe. It felt intimate and soothing…and perfect. I didn’t realize we’d both been quiet until Archer cleared his throat.

“Never thought I had a foot fetish before, but shit, Wren.” His gaze slid over to me, his heated stare heavy and meaningful. “I think you may have converted me because all I want to do is kiss these toes.” His eyes flashed, and he hesitated before adding, “Maybe even slip one into my mouth and suck on it.”

My mouth felt dry, my chest all fuzzy.

“You better not because I do not have a foot fetish. I have the opposite of a foot fetish. I’m good with a foot rub, but you start kissing my feet, and I’ll⁠—”

A smirk tilted his lips up as he slowly brought my foot closer to his face.

“I ever tell you how much I love this color on you? It’s not one I ever really noticed before, but red on you looks fucking orgasmic.”

Pulling at my foot, I felt my face heat at his praise. “You’re going to make me⁠—”

“Come?” He smirked again, and even with my attempts at tugging my foot free, he didn’t let it go. His erection pressed into my free foot, and I did something so stupid. Something only a total moron would do if they wanted heartbreak and a toxic, messy situationship on their hands, but my desire to be touched was too intense. My need for connection took over, which was the only reason I used that free foot to gently prod at the thick bulge along the right side of his leg.

His quick intake of breath only encouraged me to push harder.

“Shit, that feels good,” he rasped while his eyes fluttered closed. I was almost positive this probably didn’t feel nearly as good as any of those women in his house probably did. When I walked through, half-naked women were everywhere. One was even on her knees in front of someone, her head bobbing up and down over someone’s cock. If that culture was what he was used to, then a little rub through the jeans likely felt very innocent to him.

The thoughts of the other women had me stopping my ministrations of rubbing him with my foot. His eyes popped open right as his head turned in my direction.

“Do you have—” How did I even phrase this without making it seem like I wanted something from him?

His deep voice rumbled against the sole of my foot as he brought it up to his lips and pressed a kiss there. “Protection?”

I gave him a flat look and deadpanned, “A girlfriend…or a wife?”

His beautiful head tipped back, in a laugh while his lips stretched over perfectly white teeth. “Do you really think I’m the type of guy who would be here, hitting on you, letting you massage my cock through my jeans while I have a girl somewhere waiting for me?”

With his eyes back on me, I couldn’t fight the blush that crept into my cheeks and neck.

“Well, there were so many women in your house when I walked through it, and the typical rumors about motorcycle clubs don’t exactly paint a picture of loyal, dedicated partners.”

His hand moved up my ankle and slid over my calf as he shifted closer to me on the couch.

“I’ll give you that. I certainly didn’t grow up seeing faithful men. Most of them had wives and didn’t even consider it cheating if they let some bunk bunny suck them off. But we do have some semblance of loyalty with our old ladies.”

I was burning everywhere with how close he’d gotten and how he was touching my leg.

“Old ladies?”

“It sounds weird, but essentially, it means they’re our women. They get a property patch, showing they belong to one person in the club, so no man will try and hit on them or fuck ‘em. We treat them differently than bunk bunnies or Sweetbutts…which are women who are just around for a good time and don’t really have allegiance to anyone.”

“So, if you choose a woman to be just yours, then,” I started, but when his eyes met mine, his free hand went to my foot and returned it to his erection, encouraging me to continue rubbing him. “So…if you had someone,” I tried again, but my breathing had turned shallow.

“If I had someone that was just mine, then I’d give her a property patch that said my name on the back. I’d kiss only her. Fuck only her. Sleep with only her. Not a single person would get to touch me or be with me except her.”

I pushed against him with my elevated leg, which had my knees falling open. He could see my black underwear, but I was only worried that my wetness had somehow seeped through, and he could see how much he affected me.

“But are you…is that something?” I wanted to ask if he just did casual hookups or this right here, touching…fucking. If he did that with women regularly…or if he wanted something more substantial.

“Yes, but I’m okay with waiting. My last serious relationship was when I was eighteen. She broke my heart, fucked me up. I’ve had a ton of hookups since then, one-night stands, and whatever else, but lately, it’s been less and less. Especially since this stuff with Kane started. Because of it, I haven’t been with anyone in over a year.”

Why did hearing that feel like relief? It shouldn’t matter; he wasn’t an option for me. I couldn’t…

His lips pressed into my ankle, and my eyes fluttered closed.

“Wren?”

My eyes remained closed, but I nearly moaned my reply.

“Ya?”

“When I’m worked up like this, I tend to say some pretty crass things. I’m nervous that you’ll freak out if I do.”

I wanted to hear exactly how crass he could be and feel it against my skin.

“You can’t offend me with dirty talk, Archer.”

His hooded gaze remained on my face as my foot continued to massage his erection.

“But it’s what I want to ask you that I’m nervous about.”

In a breathy whisper, I arched my back and encouraged him. “Ask me.”

“Fine. I want you to slide your shorts to the side and those lacy black panties and show me your pussy. I need to see how wet you are.”

Pure fire erupted in my veins at the cadence of his voice and how raw his words were. I knew I didn’t have to and, honestly, I shouldn’t…but I craved his touch. He felt so good; a selfish part of me wanted to explore this.

I did as he asked and slid the fabric of my panties and shorts to the side, revealing my bare, likely glistening slit.

My neighbor hissed while lifting his hips the slightest bit. “Fuck me, that’s pretty. So smooth and wet.”

I smiled, feeling emboldened and slightly lightheaded by his praise.

“Can you spread those puffy lips for me? I just want to see…” he rasped while holding my foot over his hard length. It was granite against my soft flesh, and even if it was just my foot rubbing against it, I was extremely turned on by the fact that he was reacting to me.

I licked the pads of three of my fingers, and then with the fabric pulled to the side, I spread the lips so he had a better view of my slit.

“Oh fuck, just like that, Wren. Jesus, you’re beautiful.”

My chest heaved as I tipped my head back, my breathing came out shallow, and I began massaging myself in slow, measured strokes.

“How does that feel?”

I let out a breathy cry, “So good, but I need—I need…”

Archer’s hand slipped to my thigh, pushing my leg to the side for a better view. “Fuck, I’m going to dream about this for the rest of my life.”

He made an appreciative sound before lowering his voice and asking, “Your pussy must be aching…why don’t you come over here, straddle my thigh and get some relief.”

My hand paused, and with my eyes locked on his, I started to move, but his hands were under my legs seconds later, pulling me on top of his thigh. My underwear and panties stayed off to the side as I pressed my slick entrance over the bulge in his pants and began rocking my hips. The thickness underneath me was enough that I started to feel the ache in my pussy alleviate.

“That’s it,” he whispered, staring down at where we’d connected, “Ride me, beautiful. Take what you need.”

His hands were on my ass, under my sleep shorts as he pulled me against him, and then his lips were on my jaw, peppering my skin with little bites and kisses.

My hips rose the slightest bit, which pushed my chest into his, and then I readjusted so I was over his erection again. He was so hard, and the way he kept lightly moaning had me mirroring him with tiny gasps of pleasure. I continued riding his thigh, shamelessly rubbing against him, then, feeling bold, whispered against his ear.

“You ready to fuck me yet because I’ve been such a good girl, waiting.”

His eyes fluttered shut as his mouth dropped open, a string of curses falling from his mouth as his fingers tightened against my ass. I heard him muttering, “Yes and fuck,” which only encouraged me.

My tongue gently traced the shell of his ear as I gently moaned against it, then continued dry fucking him. “Think of how good it’ll feel to have your hard, thick length slide into my hot, wet pussy. Do you feel how soaked I am?” My hips rocked; my knees spread farther apart. “So ready for your fat cock to fill me⁠—”

Archer suddenly froze, forcing my hips to stop moving against him.

“Wren, I need—” His breathing sounded labored as he let out a frustrated sound. “Shit, we should stop.”

My eyes shot to his, my heart thundering in my chest.

“What?”

His jaw ticked, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.

“I—” He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes off me. “I think this might go too far, and we should stop.”

I released my hold from around his neck and sat back, creating distance between us. A flush of embarrassment hit me as I considered how desperate I sounded and how filthy my words had been to him. I felt so humiliated.

When he didn’t say anything to contradict his objection, I crawled off his lap, mortified that I hadn’t been the one to stop it. I walked over to my sink and scrubbed my hands, trying to shake the way my pulse hammered in my wrists and my neck, almost like my shame was pounding through my body as heavily as bass in a song.

“It’s just…you had a lot of questions, Wren…and it feels like maybe this might be too much. I just fucked up your fence…our friendship isn’t even off the ground yet. This is the first civil moment between us since we met. I’d be angry if this ruined our progress or made it to where you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Okay,” I replied brusquely, focusing on the sink and the few dishes sitting inside. I couldn’t look at him.

“I’m not saying I wouldn’t want this…or more than this, but you have made yourself pretty clear about where you stand on things.”

He was right. I had made myself clear, and while I had considered letting that cement block around my heart crumble, it was a good reminder that it wouldn’t do me any good. He was trying to win a custody case, and I was trying to raise my son in peace, lacking as many complications as possible.

His shoes were suddenly on, and he was standing close to the counter as if he were waiting on me for something.

“Unless—”

“No, you’re right,” I cut him off, finally meeting his gaze. “This is better; we shouldn’t complicate things.”

He stared at me. His jaw worked back and forth before he finally stepped closer.

“I don’t want to stay out of your life, Wren. I might be asking too much, but I want the boys to play…I want to see you and say hi. Offer you a ride if you need it. Come talk to you about random, mundane things that don’t matter.”

“So you want to be friends.”

I didn’t phrase it as a question but rather as a summarization of what he was getting at.

He was silent while looking at the floor. “Yeah…I haven’t had a real one of those in a really long time.”

My stupid heart turned to goo at his confession and how his voice cracked.

I crossed my arms, then let out a resigned sigh. “I can do that.”

His head lifted, a smile stretching across his face. “Really?”

“Yes, really. We can be friends, Archer. I’m good with that…but just so we’re clear…I don’t want to be friends with benefits or anything like that. If you ever touch me again…” I hesitated, scared of saying this next part, realizing how dangerous it was, but feeling it so strongly I couldn’t stop it from coming out, “You better not stop.”

His eyes were pure fire as he stared at me. His mouth parted as he was about to reply, but then his phone went off.

“You should probably head out,” I suggested, turning away from him.

He stared at his cell, silencing it, then glanced back up at me. The silence stretched, and then he scratched at his jaw before closing his eyes again as if he were having some kind of internal battle.

I needed to recover from his rejection. Even though it was kind and considerate…it still stung.

His phone went off again, and with another frustrated sigh, he finally turned away from me. “Right…night, Wren.” His hand went to the handle as he let himself out through the back door.

I stared at the empty glass door for another five minutes before I finally registered that he’d really left, and it was better that he did.

At least, that’s what I told myself as I headed to the shower to finish what Archer had started.