Cocksure Ace

by Webster, K.

  She handles shit I have no business dealing with in this state of mind. She was right. Yesterday, I should have brought her with me to the nursing home. I needed her support. Instead, I was all alone and fucking lost it. Dragged my ass to the nearest bar and drank away my sorrows until I was shitfaced. It’s a miracle I managed to walk home and not pass out on the sidewalk.

  Fuck, I’m a mess.

  Every time I think about Dad dying alone while I was off fucking the girl of my dreams in another country, my stomach sours. I barely touched breakfast this morning. I’m in dire need of food before I start dry heaving.

  Sheridan begins talking faster and in firm tones. She hands Marsha a black card and then Marsha leaves.

  “You okay?” Sheridan asks. “You look like you’re about to puke.”

  I shrug, squeezing my eyes shut. I’m not sure how much time passes, but I hear the sound of a soda being opened. Sheridan hands me a cold Sprite.

  “Drink this. We’re almost done and then we’ll grab some food. You need to eat.”

  My eyes lift as I chug down the soda. She looks every bit the boardroom princess in her fancy clothes and perfect hair. Gorgeous and intense. All business. Fuck, she’s so beautiful.

  “I’m tired,” I mutter. “So fucking tired.”

  “I know,” she says, her voice growing soft. “Let’s finish up, feed you, and then we’ll go home.”

  Home.

  The word sounds good on her tongue.

  Marsha comes back and Sheridan signs a bunch of papers. Marsha collects paperwork and puts it all in a green folder before handing it to Sheridan. We leave the funeral home and head toward my Tahoe that we retrieved earlier from the bar. Like last time, Sheridan ushers me to the passenger side and climbs her tiny self into the big vehicle. If I wasn’t so fucking despondent, I’d find amusement in the way she drives the Tahoe so easily. Surely it’s a far cry from her Jaguar.

  As the vehicle moves, I close my eyes, trying desperately not to puke. We eventually end up at a restaurant near my condo. A hole-in-the-wall burger joint. I can’t help but smile at Sheridan, knowing this place is a far cry from what she’s used to.

  When she catches me smiling, the hardness in her features melts away and she grins back. “Who knew burgers would cheer you up so much?”

  I lean across the console, slide my hand into her silky hair, and pull her to me for a kiss. She tastes like peppermint from the candy Marsha offered us earlier. I kiss her deeply, wishing I could get lost in her, forgetting all the pain I’m drowning in at the moment.

  “You cheer me up,” I whisper against her plump lips. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  I can’t do this.

  Fuck.

  Pain threatens to rip me in half. I thought I was doing okay. Things with Sher and I were calm the past few days. I stayed away from the booze and let her take care of me. But as each day drew nearer to the funeral, I could feel myself unraveling.

  I’m frayed beyond repair at this point.

  I could use a fucking drink.

  While we wait to head over to the funeral home, I watch Mamá from my spot on the couch. She’s in the kitchen speaking lowly with Sheridan. Since when did they get so fucking chummy?

  “You have a nice home, Cuervo,” Eduardo says for the twentieth time.

  I cut my gaze his way and glower at him. He scrounged up a suit that’s seen better days and isn’t big enough to button around his stomach. I crave to lash out at him like old times, because he married my mom and tried to take my dad’s place, but I refrain. Barely. It’s not his fault Dad died. Eduardo has always been good to me.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, my eyes once again locked on the two women in my kitchen.

  “You and the girl seem to be in love,” he says. “She’s a good one. I can tell she makes you happy.”

  His words should soothe me, but they only irritate me. In fact, everything is pissing me off. I can only imagine what kind of mood I’ll be in when I have to watch them lower my dad into the ground.

  “It was nice of her to pay for our flights. And I know that casket was expensive. Rosita squawked when Sheridan told her how much it cost.”

  I snap my head back to Eduardo. “What?”

  “Top of the line.”

  “Sheridan paid for it?”

  His mouth parts and worry clouds his features. “She said you were too upset to deal with it, so she just took care of it.”

  I rise to my feet. “Why?”

  “Because she’s your woman?”

  “You’d know all about a woman pulling you out of a rut,” I snarl, spittle flying everywhere. “You pounced on my mother the moment Dad was gone and have been fucking mooching off her ever since.”

  He recoils at my nasty words. “Cuervo—”

  “Fucking stop calling me that,” I growl.

  “What’s wrong?” Mamá demands, her hands on her hips as she walks into the living room with Sheridan on her heels.

  I glower past her at Sheridan. She looks like a powerful goddess looking over her subjects. Rich and powerful. Seems as though she’s used to lording her money over others. My disgusted look has her frowning.

  “I can handle…” I grit my teeth. “I can handle my shit myself.”

  “Everyone is just trying to help,” Mamá says in a soft tone. “Let us help.”

  “You mean let the rich girl save the fucking day,” I snap. “How much did it cost?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Sheridan placates.

  “If fucking does!”

  “Enough,” Mamá snaps. “You’ll cool your tone.”

  “I’m a grown ass adult,” I bark at her. “You can stop with that shit.”

  Mamá approaches me slowly. “You need a break, mijo. As soon as this is over, you should come home. We’re sprucing up the hotel. It would do you some good—”

  “We’ll meet you at the funeral home,” I grind out, interrupting her. “Just go.”

  Mamá exchanges a look with Sheridan, who gives her a clipped nod. She kisses me on the cheek before ushering Eduardo out of the condo. As soon as the door closes, I begin pacing, already eager to yank my tie off.

  “I’m only trying to help,” Sher says. “Camilo, look at me.”

  I lock eyes with her brown ones and fall victim to their depths. She lures me in with just a look until I’m chest to chest with her, peering down. Her palms caress my cheeks and she stands on her toes to kiss my lips. I grip her jaw and kiss her hard enough she moans.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” I growl, nipping at her bottom lip.

  “It needed to be done. You weren’t able to think then.”

  “It’s too expensive.”

  “Then pay me back.”

  “Beside the point, Sher.”

  “I won’t apologize for looking after you,” she tells me fiercely.

  “This is too much.”

  She frowns, all strength bleeding from her features. “What is?”

  “Us.”

  Her flinch makes my heart fucking hurt. “No, it’s not.”

  “It is.” I step back and rake my gaze down her fitted black dress. “Look at what I’ve reduced you to.”

  “Reduced me to? What are you even talking about?” Her eyes water as she crosses her arms over her chest.

  “I’ve made you weak,” I sneer.

  “Weak? First you’re griping at me for paying for the funeral and now I’m suddenly weak?” A tear races down her cheek. “You make no sense, Camilo. Come on. Let’s get to the funeral home. You’re just upset.”

  “I could fuck you right now and you’d let me. You wouldn’t tell me to shut the hell up. The old you would have. This weaker version of you submits to my asshole ways.” I shake my head. “I’m no good for you.”

  “Shut up,” she hisses. “Just shut up.”

  I walk over to her, loving the way her body responds to me. I also hate it. My words are true. Whatever the fuck w
e’re doing is only temporary. It always was. I’m not a forever kind of guy. Especially not with someone like her. Not the kind of girl who drops twenty grand on a funeral of a guy’s father whom she doesn’t even know. I don’t deserve her.

  “Turn around and bend over,” I order, my words cruel and icy.

  She slaps me. “Fuck you.”

  “Nah, you’re the one getting fucked.”

  “Don’t be an asshole.”

  “I am an asshole.” I grip her hips. “Turn around.”

  “If you want to fuck me, do it like this. Look me in the eyes and see if you can continue to be a dick,” she challenges, angry tears racing down her cheeks.

  “But that doesn’t prove my point, abejita,” I purr, twisting her around. “Does it?”

  She shudders in my grip but doesn’t move away. I press my palm to the middle of her back and push her over the side of the couch so that her ass is prone to me. Slowly, I drag up her dress to reveal her white ass and black thong.

  “Beg for me to fuck you,” I murmur. “Beg for me to fuck you like this.”

  “Camilo…”

  Her voice is so fucking sad it breaks something inside me. It confirms what I need to know. That I don’t deserve her. She should be with David. He might be old as hell, but at least he doesn’t lash out at her when he’s grieving.

  “We should go,” she whispers. “Everyone will be waiting on you.”

  “He’s dead,” I snap as I undo my slacks. “Dad can wait.”

  “Camilo…”

  I rub at her pussy from behind through her thong. She’s wet and needy. It gets my dick really hard knowing she’s a little kinky for this side of me. Then I remember I’m making a point, not exploring new kinks.

  “Beg for me to take you like this, Sheridan. Beg.”

  “Camilo, please.”

  I pull her thong down her thighs and then free my dick from my boxers. Slowly, I stroke my erection before teasing her slick hole with it.

  “Where’s your fight?” I demand, easing into her in a torturous way. “Where’s your sting, little bee?”

  “I’m not going to fight you when you’re like this. You’re hurting.” She moans when I thrust all the way in. “We’ll get through this together.”

  I slide almost all the way out and slam into her again. Over and over. Our skin slaps in a loud, brutal way as I fuck her into submission. Her pussy is drenched and it fucks with my head. Why does she like this? I’m being a total asshole to her.

  “Touch your clit and make yourself come,” I order. “This will be over soon.”

  She obeys too easily and my heart squeezes painfully.

  Weak.

  I make her weak.

  Sheridan is fierce and strong. A bee with the sharpest sting. A storm of epic proportions. Not this. Not allowing some dickhead to belittle her as he fucks her one last time.

  One. Last. Time.

  A sharp searing inside my chest has me staggering in pain.

  “Come, abejita. Come all over my dick.”

  She works her fingers harder and faster, all the while clenching around my cock. I grip her ass cheeks, spreading them and then slapping them just hard enough to sting. She moans in pleasure, further confusing me.

  Why won’t she fight me?

  Why won’t she rage and tell me to go to hell?

  I deserve it. I don’t deserve her loyalty. I don’t deserve her.

  “Oh God,” she whimpers, her body tightening and then shuddering hard.

  Seeing her lose control has me tipping over the edge. I grip her hips and groan as my release spills out of me into her waiting body. My hips thrust over and over until she’s wrung every drop from me. Without warning, I yank out of her and stuff my dripping dick in my boxers.

  I’ve fastened my slacks and righted my clothes before she even moves to stand from the couch. Her panties are at her ankles and her ass is pink from where I smacked it. With her dress bunched up around her hips and looking so messy, she’s never looked so beautiful.

  And positively wrecked.

  I did this.

  I’m a monster.

  “Leave,” I choke out.

  She stands up and yanks her panties up her thighs before pushing her dress down into place. Her brown eyes snap to mine. “We are. Let me clean up first.”

  “No.” My voice is cold. “Leave Florida. Go home, Sheridan Reid.”

  Her brows furl together. “No.”

  “Too late to put up a fight,” I murmur.

  “You don’t really want me to go,” she says, approaching with tears in her eyes. “You need me to stay. Let me stay.”

  Her scent invades my nostrils. So sweet.

  Her touch is soft and comforting. I can’t help but lean into it.

  “Leave,” I whisper, my bottom lip wobbling. “Please leave me alone.”

  “I don’t want to.” A tear races down her cheek. “I want to stay.”

  I swipe away the tear on her cheek with my thumb and gently kiss her lips. “I’m not the man I was a week ago. I don’t know that I ever will be. It’s better this way.”

  “Camilo,” she whimpers. “I want to be here for all your ups and downs. That’s how a real relationship is supposed to go.”

  “Please,” I beg. “Please go.”

  She straightens her back and her brown eyes flare with fire. “Okay.” Her fingers thread into my hair as she pulls me down to her mouth. “As much as I want to fight you on this, I won’t. You need time to grieve. You need your space. Come find me when you’re ready.”

  I kiss her in desperation, overcome with the realization I’m going to lose her forever.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” I admit in a whisper.

  “I understand your pain,” she murmurs back. “I’m so sorry. But you will climb back out of this hole. And when you do, I’ll be waiting for you.”

  She pulls back and I already regret my words. My actions. My stupidity.

  “Sher…”

  “You’re going to be late,” she tells me in her no-nonsense tone. “You better go now.”

  I stare at her long and hard because I know when I return, she’ll be gone.

  She’ll leave because I begged her to.

  She’ll leave because she loves me.

  With an ache in my chest, I walk out my front door and don’t look back.

  Sheridan

  Two weeks later…

  I check my phone for only the tenth time today.

  Nothing from Camilo.

  God, I am so lovesick. It’s pathetic.

  He told me to go. So I left. I just assumed he’d be back for me by now. I’m not the only one who was deep into the thing that was us. He was right there with me.

  So why isn’t he here now?

  “Miss Reid,” Helen says from my open office door. “The conference room is set up for your meeting.”

  “Thank you. Will you be sitting in and taking notes?”

  She frowns and nods, eyeing me like I have three heads. “It’s my job.”

  “Oh, good. You take way better notes than me.”

  “Is everything okay?” she asks, fidgeting. “You’ve been…different…ever since you came back.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” she rushes out. “Not bad. Just…”

  “Weak?”

  “I was going to say nice.”

  I flinch at her words. “Nice? I’m not nice?”

  Her cheeks flame crimson. “I, uh, that’s not what I meant.”

  “No,” I say with a sigh. “I get it. I can be a bit of a monster. You can speak candidly.”

  Helen crosses the room and sits in the seat on the other side of my desk. “You’re not a monster, you’re just intensely focused and particular. Lately it seems as if you care about those around you, not just yourself or your dad.”

  “I’m sorry if I’ve always been a bitch,” I mutter. “I have no excuse.”

  She smiles. “There were other jobs out ther
e. If I didn’t like it, I could have left.”

  “I’d have doubled your salary to make you stay,” I tease.

  Her laugh is foreign. It’s then I realize I’ve never heard it. I don’t know much about Helen except she’s been my assistant for three years. That’s it. I know nothing else.

  “Are you married?”

  The smile falls away and she nods. “An odd question, but yes.” She wiggles her wedding ring at me. A simple gold band.

  “Children?”

  “Morgan and Evan,” she says slowly. “They come in sometimes to take me to lunch.”

  I’m drawing blanks, which makes me feel horrible.

  “Oh. Are they small?”

  “Morgan is sixteen. Evan is almost eighteen. What’s with all the questions?”

  “I’m a horrible person.”

  “No, you’re not,” she assures me. “You’re just busy.”

  “It’s no excuse.” I swallow hard and glance around my massive office. It’s stark white and decorated in splashes of rose gold. I love how bright and cheery it is even if I’m always the exact opposite. “When I went to Daddy’s wedding, things changed.”

  “So I can tell.”

  “I’m different and I don’t know how to get back to me.”

  “Do you want to get back to the old you?”

  “Not really. I don’t think I liked her much. It’s hard navigating this new path.”

  “If anyone can do it, it’s you. You’re Sheridan Reid. A business powerhouse. Those two men down the hall can’t hold a candle to your fierceness.”

  I smile thinking about Daddy and David. They’re great businessmen, but I’ve always strived to be even better.

  “Morgan admires you.”

  I wince. “How? I’ve never spoken to her.”

  “No, but she’s an observant teenager. She sees what you’ve done for me all these years.”

  “I’ve done stuff for you?”

  She laughs again and I decide I really like her laugh. “Honey, yes. Maybe they don’t seem like much to you, but they mean everything to me. Like whenever you go out of town and let me work from home those days.”

  People work remotely from home all the time. No big deal.

  “Or when you gave me your old Lexus.”

  “I didn’t need it anymore and the dealership would have tried to scam me on the trade.” I shrug. “It was old. And you’re my friend.”