Scandalous Park Avenue Prince (Park Avenue Princes Book 3)

I DIDN’T USUALLY get roped into dinner with my parents more than once a month, but my father was trying to woo a new senator into his clique and seemed to think having me there somehow helped. It’d been a last-minute request, and Serena already had plans, which meant I’d be suffering through the next couple hours on my own.

Lucky me.

As my father droned on about why the latest bill was shit, and my mother made small talk with the man’s wife, I reached for another oyster. At least for the moment I was able to sit there in my thoughts, which had been all over the place in the two days since I’d left Archer’s and confessed all to Serena. We hadn’t talked about it since—not that there was an update, because I hadn’t seen or heard from Archer. I knew I’d be seeing him this weekend, since I’d volunteered all the guys to help out at the Elysium on Saturday, but I wasn’t sure if I should be the one to make the first move. Hell, I’d already shown up on his doorstep, so was it wrong that I wanted him to come to me?

“Isn’t that right, Preston?”

My father’s tone indicated it wasn’t the first time he’d asked me that question, and I brushed my lips with my napkin before answering.

“I’m sorry?”

His colleague glanced at my father before smiling gently at me. “Senator Abernathy tells me you’ve got plans to work in his office next term.”

Inwardly, I sighed, not ready to have this conversation yet again, but now wasn’t the time or place for that argument. So I smiled back like the good son I was and gave a polite response.

“It’s been discussed. My classes and volunteer work take up quite a bit of time here, but we’re trying to work it out.”

The man seemed satisfied, even impressed, with my answer, but I could feel the narrowed eyes of my father boring into me.

Unbothered, I reached for another oyster and washed it down with champagne. At least tonight I wouldn’t be leaving this place starving and in need of pizza, not with what I’d seen on the menu.

“Oh, look who it is,” my mother said, and I glanced at the entrance behind me—only to do a double take.

Sometimes it felt like this city was overwhelmingly big, and other times, like now, it felt confined to a small group. A very small group.

Because standing just inside the entrance was the man I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about, wrapped up in a dark wool trench coat and scarf, a pink tinge to his nose and cheeks from the cold.

Even fully bundled up, Archer Carrington was unbelievably beautiful. He’d already caught the attention of those at my table, and I also noticed several other diners looking in his direction. It was sheer magnetism, and the effect on me was instant. Especially when he tugged at the fingers of his gloves and his gaze locked on mine. It was so quick, that flash of heat and the way he faltered when he saw me, but then his eyes moved past me to those at my table, and it was like he’d never reacted at all.

He tucked his gloves into his jacket pocket as the hostess began to escort him and a couple of others I recognized from the Elysium board in our direction.

I quickly turned back to see my mother waving at Archer and tried to calm the sudden pounding of my heart, among other things.

Of all the restaurants in the city, why did the man I’d gotten myself off in front of two days ago have to be right between me and my father?

God, could this get any worse?

“Archer.” My father pushed back his seat, getting to his feet to greet the newcomer, and I hoped he didn’t expect me to do the same. The last thing I needed was to announce to the table just how happy I was to see…my girlfriend’s dad.

I winced a little, hating that that was how they would view him. As Serena’s father. My future father-in-law. The president of the Elysium. Mr. Carrington was the perfect in-law in my parents’ eyes. Bet that would change if they knew what a “good boy” he thought their son was.

“Preston.” My mother’s lilting laugh tore me out of my thoughts and back to reality. “Are you coming down with something? You’ve been distracted all night.”

Great, thanks, Mom. “No, no. I’m fine.”

“Then how about you find your manners and say hello to Mr. Carrington?”

I glanced up at Archer and his other guests, and his slow smile did absolutely nothing to help my distracted situation.

“Hi.” That was all I could manage. A lame-ass “hi” as I stared up into the most handsome face I’d ever seen.

“Hello.” I couldn’t be positive, but I felt there was a glint in his eyes. “Enjoying the oysters tonight, are we?”

The empty shells in front of me were proof enough of that. Hell, maybe I could blame my stiff dick on them too. Instead of the sexy-as-sin man looking at me like he knew exactly where my mind had just gone.

I cleared my throat. “Um, yeah, you should try them for yourself. You know, since Serena won’t touch them.”

“Hmm, I think I just might.”

“You should join us,” my father offered, and I hoped that the sheer panic I felt in that moment wasn’t splashed all over my face, because fuck, it would be absolute torture to have to sit through dinner with Archer and not be able to talk to him about what had happened between us.

“No, I don’t want to interrupt.”

Oh thank God.

“But I hope you all have a lovely night.” Archer’s hand dropped to my shoulder. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you again, Preston.”

As my father took a seat and Archer left to go to his table, his words from the other morning about whether he had a tattoo echoed through my head: The next time I see you, I’ll let you look for yourself. 

Wait, this was that next time. Right?

The insinuation was right there. That I was seeing him again.

That was not lost on me. At least, I didn’t think it was. I hadn’t imagined that, or the sexual tension I’d felt humming between us.

The comment about the oysters, the touch on my shoulder? That wasn’t in my head. But…we were in public. It wasn’t like I could march over there and demand he give me what he promised now, could I?

I looked in his direction, trying to ascertain if I was living in a fantasy land or⁠—

No. I didn’t think I was imagining it. Not when Archer reached for the buttons of his coat and, as he undid them, looked in my direction.

I knew I needed to look away, to not make it so damn obvious I was watching him, but it felt impossible. Especially when he chose the seat that directly faced me. He could’ve sat with his back to me, ignoring that I was even there, but maybe he wanted to watch me like I wanted to watch him. I wasn’t sure if that made my night better or worse, because it would be agony having him so close but unable to get my fill.

Glancing at the serving tray of oysters on our table that only I seemed to be enjoying, I picked one up, deciding two could play this game. It was clear Archer wanted to tease me tonight, which, I could admit, might be fun. Especially if I played along.

I lifted the shell to my lips, letting the oyster and its delicious toppings slide into my mouth, and as I swallowed, I saw Archer watching. Taking advantage of his attention, I brushed my thumb along the corner of my mouth, swiping some wayward juice before sucking it between my lips. I didn’t need to look at him to see his reaction, because even from across the room I could feel it—that heat, that tension, that was there between us, and it hadn’t dulled just because there was a room full of other people.

A buzz of excitement ran through me as I set the discarded shell aside and licked my lips. Your move, I thought, glancing his way and meeting his eyes for a brief moment. A hint of a sexy smirk was all the reaction I got as he beckoned for the waiter.

I wondered what he’d be having tonight. If I’d be able to taste it if I kissed him. When I kissed him. Because after days of radio silence, seeing him was a shock to the system, and I couldn’t promise myself I wouldn’t show up on his doorstep after this dinner was over.

I was just hoping for an invitation this time.

Trying not to look his way was a challenge, but as salads were placed in front of each of us, I at least attempted to seem like I was listening to my father’s conversation. I couldn’t tell what was being said, and I hoped like hell they wouldn’t ask me anything. But my father hadn’t appreciated my last answer, so I had a feeling he wouldn’t be giving me more opportunities to make him look bad. He probably regretted inviting me now, which I’d get an earful about later.

I didn’t care. I couldn’t. Not when my entire focus was elsewhere.

Chancing a look, I noticed immediately the way Archer’s fingers were casually wrapped around the stem of a wine glass, and when he sensed me looking, he began to wind them up and down. Stroking. Archer was stroking his glass like he was playing with my dick, and the way my body reacted, you would’ve thought he really was.

Dammit. It’d be too obvious to reach beneath the table and adjust my pants to give my growing erection a little breathing room, and Archer knew it too.

Let the games begin.

Digging into my salad, I ignored him for as long as I could, which wasn’t more than a handful of minutes. Pathetic, really, but it wasn’t my fault I was a moth to his flame, and he was really fucking hot.

The opportunity for another tease came unexpectedly when the new senator’s wife accidentally spilled her wine. I jumped to my feet, leaning across the table with my napkin to help her before it flowed onto her dress. When she was taken care of, I glanced at Archer, and his look was so familiar that my stomach flipped.

It was just like the moment in his office when I’d leaned over his desk, trying to make my intentions clear. He wasn’t the first one to look away this time as I settled back in my seat, feeling his eyes still on me. I reached for a new napkin, placing the linen on my lap and wiping off the wine from my fingers. As a rush of waitstaff surrounded our table to help clean the mess, one reached for my salad plate.

“Oh, I’m not finished—” My words were cut off when I noticed him drop something small and folded beside the plate, the move deliberate but not enough to catch anyone else’s attention with the distraction happening across the table.

The waiter smiled at me and pulled his hand back. “My apologies, sir. Enjoy.”

As I nodded at him, I casually swiped what he’d dropped and lowered it to my lap then unfolded the paper napkin. Surprise rolled through me as I read the note. I looked up to make sure the right person had smuggled this to me.

Archer pushed back his chair, rising to his feet and making his excuses to those at his table. As he buttoned his suit jacket, his eyes caught mine, and that was all I needed to know.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he headed in the direction of the restrooms and shoved his note in the pocket of my pants.

The one that had said,

Men’s room. NOW.