Archer’s POV Graciela was drunk, no, she was worse than that she was completely plastered. When she had grabbed my ass, running her small hands over my jeans it had taken everything in me not to wrap her legs around my waist and f**k her against my truck. I’d shoved her into the cab and slammed the door, taking a second to adjust myself before jogging around the front and sliding into the driver’s seat only to find her leaning toward me, inhaling deeply, her chest trying to burst it’s want out of the tight sweater she was wearing. Reluctantly placing my hand on her shoulder, I gently push her back, before starting the truck and placing my hands on the steering wheel. ‘Seatbelt Gracie’ I choke out, trying to look anywhere else but at the tantalising view next to me. ‘You smell really go