This guy… but he keeps rubbing against my clit, driving me crazy, building up a storm in me so when he finally thrusts deep into me, my mouth falls open on a silent scream as a powerful rush crashes into me.
“Is she back yet?” he questions, not even stopping, prolonging my orgasm with a deft, delicious roll of his hips. “I think not.”
And he fucks me into three more toe-curling orgasms so wicked and delicious, I’m sore and euphoric all at the same time.
Ace’s stamina, his sexy body, his hunger for me, the way he looks at me when he makes love to me, or when we’re an entire room apart. The things he whispers in my ear when I wake up, when we part for class, all of it, he’s my Christmas. He’s my gift. He’s my miracle.
“I’m so in love with you,” I whisper, loving the way it feels being under him. Of course, his full weight isn’t resting on me, but he knows I love it when I’m under him like this.
It’s strange how for a long time after what happened to me, I couldn’t stand being subdued or held down, but with Ace I feel cherished, protected, safe, and loved. So, so loved.
Something I’ve been denied for a long time that now that I have it, I’m so protective of it, I want it all.
He looks down at me then presses a sweet, chaste kiss to my forehead.
“I’ve loved you forever, Astraea, and I’ll love you beyond that,” he whispers roughly, looking into my eyes, and I shiver, wanting him all over again. “You’re mine, always.”
Giddy.
I’ve never felt that before until he told me that he loves me, which is every single day now.
“So, does that mean we’ll do it? The Christmas thing?” I question, pushing him down on his back. I want to ride him, rock his world and well, recruit him to my plan.
He sighs, but I know it’s a done deal and he holds me by my hips, his cock already hard, rewarding me with a hot burst of pre-cum.
But the thing is, he rarely denies me anything. Which is why I know he’ll say yes.
“This can’t be good,” he groans, and I laugh, loving the lust in his hoarse voice.
This is going to be fantastic!
But soon, there’s nothing to laugh about as my moans get louder, the liquid heat in my core crashing into me like a tidal wave.
Operation Fool Them Frosties is on!
Well, that’s a stupid op name but who cares? The subject of the matter is fooling my lovely, amazing, frosty crew of fractured friends—who are really my family.
Everything’s going according to plan so smoothly, I can’t help but be proud of myself.
I never knew how amazing I am at planning shit, especially at the eleventh hour like this. I mean, it does help that I have access to a very healthy bank account. Thanks Dad.
My sorta-kind of long-lost, deadbeat dad who is really kind of a secretive big deal in a world of wealth, shadows, and power, is really coming in handy. I wonder if he has noticed what I’m doing.
“Trust me, he’s very much aware,” Ace said last night when I asked him. “But I told you not to use his shit.”
Ah yes, here come the alpha-asshole tendencies.
“Do you think he’s expecting an invite to this shindig?” I asked him, trying not to shiver at the intent of his fingers as they trailed down my spine in a featherlight touch.
“No doubt,” he purred darkly. “It’s his money, and he’s an insufferable know-it-all. Besides, he’s your father.”
“I thought we hate fathers,” I say breathless, trying not to moan so loudly.
“I don’t want to talk about fathers when I’m about to dick you down and come again deep inside your hot, greedy little pussy.”
And the topic was forgotten for the night, but I can’t help but wonder now. Does my father care about what I’m doing?
After my mother was shot trying to save my life, Eli and I were forced into getting to know each other—at least that’s how it felt on my part. Besides the fact that Eli’s the one who gave me a way out from Westbrook Blues when I felt like I was dying with each agonizing second spent there, I can honestly say I still don’t know the man who calls himself my father.
Someone else does though…
Yeah no. I don’t want to think about him.
Back to Operation Fool Them Frosties!
See, I found the cabin house I want us to rent out in Colorado.
To be honest, I was looking at it way before Ace forced the matter out of me a few days ago, but he doesn’t need to know that.
The place is surrounded by snowy, steep mountains, secluded with a frozen river close by.
I loved that it’s private—our privacy is nonnegotiable, to all of us—and big enough to house my party of unwillingly fooled family—well, big enough for what I hope will happen, but most importantly, it reminds me a lot of the Brooke House, the hideout house the boys designed and built during my four year exile from Westbrook Blues.
I know Ace misses that house, even if he doesn’t talk about it.
It’s one of the many things he and the boys did together, trying to get over how I seemingly abandoned them. I’m pretty sure none of the boys have gone back to it since we left Westbrook Blues. Well, maybe my twin brother George has, but I’m the last person in the world who would know anything about him. And that sucks to the point of anguish.
Once upon a time, I knew my brother so well, a look was all it took for us to communicate whole stories, compose sonatas of mischief, or convey our feelings. It was easy to know what he was thinking back then, but now…
Don’t get me wrong, after all his lies, the deceit, and illusion games he weaved to lure me back to Westbrook Blues two years ago, he’s been trying his best to try and mend our relationship which I believed all my life was sacred to both of us, but God, did he prove me wrong.
Sure all his calls, texts, and even emails smell of a twin desperate to reunite with his wombmate but for now that’s all we are, wombmates.
I don’t mean to avoid him at all costs, but it’s just painful for me. I don’t think I’m ready to deal with him just yet. Not after everything.
If it wasn’t for him and the fact that he actually lives in that dreadful town that hurt me and my boys over and over again, the best and most heartfelt thing to do would’ve been to go back to Westbrook Blues—I mean it did give me my boys—but the anxiety that crept into my bones, bringing a cold chill the moment the thought entered my mind is one I’ll never forget.
I took that as my one big-ass red warning sign to stay the fuck away.
So now, here we are. I hope Ace has secured the cabin because I’m so damn ready for this!
I even went shopping for all the decorations and made sure Ace got the Christmas tree I wanted.
It’s not a traditional fir one. The one I want will definitely fit our lives, our history, and all.
I also spent the last two days shopping for gifts for everyone—with a twist of course. My need to get together this holiday is not because of the season, but because I want my people together with me.
Now, I just need to call the troops and let them know what’s happening. Well, not all the troops, because that’s just anarchy and I need to gauge their levels of irritability as I attempt to fool them.
I’m FaceTiming the girls together while Ace calls the boys separately. Well, that’s the plan anyway.
He didn’t want to do it but when I explained to him that I’m the heavy hitter in this bitch, only called upon when the boys get difficult, he saw exactly what I meant.
None of my boys can deny me a thing. It’s a heady power, one that I don’t take lightly or abuse in any way.
I don’t play when it comes to my boys and right now, they’re broken in a way that I hope can be fixed.
I know all too well about things we can’t get back, times we can’t do over, bullets that can’t be stopped…
But the girls… yeah, they’re going to be a bit… rebellious. Just how I like them!
Almost bouncing with excitement, I b
alance my iPad on the couch Ace just screwed me to two orgasms to before he kicked off the backrest as he came with a roar.
Waiting with bated breath for my best friends in the entire world to pick up the call, I blush, thinking back to an hour ago. I’ve been horny a lot lately… but whatever, I’m so stoked to be talking to my girls! We haven’t exactly talked in a while but I’m sure everything’s going to be just fine!
As always, the first one to pick up is Kim.
“Are you dying?” she croaks, her eyes heavy with sleep, the room behind her dark. Kim HATES FaceTiming but I knew she’d answer. “‘Cause you better be dying to call me at this fucking hour.”
“Oh my gosh, did I wake you?” Guilt slams into me as I look into her stormy grey eyes.
Even tired and sleepy like this, Kim manages to look like all she has to do to win a coveted beauty pageant is get up and strut her stuff on a runway and she’d do it better than Naomi Campbell.
My fiery best friend is stunningly beautiful, at any fucking hour. I’m pretty sure she never has a bad hair day.
It used to intimidate me like hell, but I’m just proud of her.
“Obviously,” she grounds out, blinking furiously at me.
“Oops. Sorry about that! Totally forgot about time zones.” Well to be fair, I’ve tried my best to forget everything about the other coast of the country where I was betrayed, hurt, abused, and all the hours that I don’t want to think about especially when I’m this excited. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You haven’t answered me, are you dying?” she drawls sarcastically.
“Not yet.”
“Good, because I’ll be hella pissed at you double fold. First for waking me the fuck up and two, for actually getting your ass killed out there,” she grumbles sleepily, making me laugh.
“My number isn’t up yet.” I laugh.
“Girl, your number’s been up since the day you were born.” Hmm, no lies there. “What’s going on, Raea? Why are you calling at this witchcraft activity hour?”
Because I’m about to do some witchcraft activity.
I bite my lip, not knowing how she’ll take this. Honestly with Kim, it might go either way and I need to be prepared to seriously convince her.
“First of all, hey, how are you?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “I’m tired, Raea, and you’ve just disturbed my beauty sleep.”
“Aren’t you the one who told me that you never sleep?”
I would’ve laughed at that if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s actually true. Just like me before, Kim rarely sleeps. And if she does, it’s with a sharp switchblade knife under her pillow that speaks volumes of unsaid trauma she would rather die than talk about.
“Yeah, never thought you’d actually listen to that,” she groans. “But still, a decent friend would’ve respected my restless musings in the dark.”
“Bitch you answered, didn’t you? You obviously miss me.”
She rolls her eyes. “You know I miss you. But really Raea, my sisters are still sleeping so what’s going on?”
“I have a surprise for you but let’s wait for Ivy to pick up.”
I figured it would be easier to get the girls on the same call for this holiday thing. If they think it’ll just be girls only for the trip then they’ll be more likely to not be suspicious. “If she’s even awake.”
“Oh she’ll be awake all right, but what’s this surprise?” Kim grumbles, the screen growing grainy for a bit. “Since when do you like surprises, bitch?”
Before I can answer that, Ivy answers the call, but unlike Kim who’s clearly just woken up, Ivy has her reading glasses on, making her look like a sexy librarian.
She even has two gold pencils holding up her curly thick bun, her brown skin glowing like she showers in some kind of diamond water, making her look like a goddess. And to think for probably all my life, I didn’t like her, always felt threatened and jealous of her.
“Hey bitches!” she greets chirpily, and I frown. Kim narrows her eyes at her.
Kim and Ivy are back in Westbrook Blues. They never left, not even after I did.
Sadness snakes its way into me for a moment. It’s only now as I stare at my best friends that I realize just how much I’ve neglected them.
We’ve only managed to stay in touch via all-night calls, our group chat that’s ignored for days, as well as the occasional FaceTime but other than Kim’s impromptu visit to New York to help Ace and I settle in our new home, I haven’t really been in touch with my girls. And I hate that.
“Why do you look high?” Kim questions Ivy. “Your eyes are all dilated and shit.”
“I’m not high,” Ivy says, her voice high-pitched. “I don’t even know what high means.”
Uhh…
“Then why on earth are you so chirpy at this hour?”
“I’m being chirpy? I’m not chirpy. I’m perfectly normal,” Ivy says in a high-pitched voice that’s so unlike her usual soft cadence that can soothe the devil into being good. “Why would you think I’m chirpy?”
Yeah, something’s wrong all right.
“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” I question.
Between the three of us, Ivy is the most level-headed, sensible one, but right now she looks as high as Noah on 4/20. And that’s saying something.
“She’s definitely blitzed.” Kim chuckles lowly, her stormy gray eyes filled with humor. Ivy sighs.
“I’m not high, well, maybe I am, I don’t know what’s happening to me to be honest. My brain is firing up more neurons at a speed faster than I can process it all.”
“Translation, she’s high as a kite,” Kim chuckles. “I’d say addy plus xanny with a bit of weed.”
“You’d know the concoction, wouldn’t you?” The things Kim knows would shame the devil honestly.
“But of course,” Kim counters with a smirk. “You know how it is.”
“Well, it’s none of that,” Ivy moans. “I’m not high on any drugs or any of that stuff.”
“By all means, my sweet lover, prove me wrong,” Kim says, her eyes glinting. “Is it a new drug?”
“To me, maybe. I drank like five cups of coffee to stay up,” Ivy explains, her eyes wide and definitely dilated, the chocolate brown totally gone.
“Five?” I stare at her like she’s lost her damn mind. “You don’t even like coffee.”
“I know!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up like she’s trying to cast them away. “At this point, it might have been more than five mugs of that damn devil’s drink but I lost count. And now I’m freaking out.”
Kim fights not to laugh, her face puffing and red with repressed laughter. “Why did you drink it then?”
“To stay up! Are you even listening to me?”
“Are you trying to stay awake for the rest of your life?” I question, biting my lip as Kim bursts out laughing.
“Unlike you bitches, I’m trying to get my life together and into med-school.”
“Ivy, you just started college, chill,” Kim says.
“That and the fact that school’s closed for the holidays now too.” I frown.
Silence.
Ivy bites her lips, eyes wide as she processes that.
“I know that, of course,” she sighs. “But I still need to be on top. Since college started, I discovered that I know nothing at all!”
Don’t we all?
“You sound distressed about that,” Kim jokes.
“I am distressed!”
“Then go smoke some weed. Get even higher. Do you need me to call my guy?”
“Kim!” Ivy huffs. “Can’t you see I’m stressed? Maybe I should clean my room? I’ve even read all the medical journals in my room. Do you think the library is open? I forgot to pee.”
At that, I peel with laughter, tears start falling down my cheeks. What makes it worse is the look on Ivy’s face. She really is in distress about this.
“You know what, I like this side of you!” I say in between my laught
er.
“Oh my gosh, if you keep laughing at me, I might start crying.”
“Okay, okay, calm down,” Kim chuckles, trying to placate her. “But tell me this, are you actually failing your classes, Einstein junior?”
Ivy pauses for a split second, her large doe eyes filled with unshed tears. She looks at Kim like she just grew another head and a pair of glowing red eyes in the middle of her forehead.
“I got a B minus for my last short test! Did you hear that? B minus,” Ivy cries. “I’ve never gotten such a low grade in my entire life.”
“Wow! It must be hard being you.” I whistle, thinking of how I’d kill to get a B minus in my Econ class right now!
“If I don’t fix this grade soon, my life’s literally over! O-V-E-R, over!”
Lies. Ivy for sure knows everything. She’s one of the smartest people I know. Which is saying something seeing as I’m surrounded by intelligent assholes.
“Ivy, calm down.” I laugh. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“Yes, it is!” she cries, tears now streaming down her face. I would’ve been rolling my eyes at this but Ivy isn’t usually a drama queen. If anything, she doesn’t like having any kind of attention on her. Besides that, I can see she’s actually pissed about this whole thing.
“It must be the end, seeing as you’re studying for med-school which is like how many light years away again, Ivy?”
“Screw you, Kim!” Ivy huffs. “Not everyone is as talented and creative at everything as you are.”
“Facts,” I say solemnly. Kim is naturally good at EVERYTHING. It’s still annoying.
“Not everything,” Kim mumbles, looking away. “There’s stuff I don’t know still.”
“Oh really?” Ivy taunts. “Like what? God it’s so hot in here, let me open the window.”
“Like why in the world you drank five cups of what you call the devil’s drink? I’d think one is enough.” Kim cracks up then. “For you at the very least.”
“Don’t laugh at me!” Ivy whines. “I didn’t mean to drink five. It’s just when I drank the first cup, I felt nothing.”
“So you decided to have another?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
“And another, and another as well as another one,” Kim chimes in and we burst out laughing.
Frosty Blues: A Westbrook Blues Novella Page 6