by Livia Lang
I’d tell her I was close, and she’d only start sucking harder. Every bob of her head would be so good, as her eyes begged me to finish in her mouth. She’d want me to claim her mouth, be the first person to dump a hot load into her sweet, juicy lips.
“Fuck yeah, Martina,” he groaned out, his hips jerking on the bed. “I’m going to fuck that little mouth so good.”
His eyes rolled back, and he lost control. Hot streams of cum shot out of him, covering his stomach thickly as he exploded. With every pulse of his aching dick, he thought only of her, of claiming her as his own. It was Martina he wanted, no one else. No one else made him feel like this.
CHAPTER 10
A ce woke up on Saturday feeling the happiest he had in months. Maybe years. He hummed while brushing his teeth, came down early to the kitchen, and was cheerfully making pancakes when his father wandered in for a second cup of coffee.
Clete stared for several seconds at what was occurring before narrowing his eyes and asking gruffly, "Are you back on drugs, Ace?"
"What the hell, Dad? No, no I'm not!" Ace grunted, angrily flipping over a pancake. "Why would you even ask that?"
"Well, you seem…different." His father waved a hand around vaguely, still looking intently at Ace. "You’re smiling, and awake before noon on a weekend."
Ace shrugged and grabbed a plate from the cabinet. He also got out the syrup and placed it on the kitchen table. Finally, he slid his finished pancakes out of the pan and onto the plate. He took his time, knowing Clete was continuing to hover in the background with concern all over his face. Only once Ace was comfortably seated with his meal did he at last look up and address his father again.
"Maybe I'm just having a nice day? Is that a crime?"
"No, not at all. I'm glad to see you happy, I didn't mean to imply otherwise. It's nice to see you smile," Clete said slowly, making his way to the table to sit across from Ace. He was acting like Ace was a nervous animal that might scurry away if he made a sudden movement. "What are you doing today? Do I need to drive you somewhere?"
"Nah, you don't need to worry about it. Martina is actually going to come over later, and she'll drive me out to see some friends."
"Martina? You guys are going to hang out outside of work?"
"Yeah, and before you start, it's not against the court order. Martina checked, of course. You know how she is with rules." Ace rolled his eyes, but couldn't help a small smile from spreading across his face. Martina had cutely texted that morning confirming she was going to go to the party, since it was all above aboard legally; it had made Ace’s heart practically dance inside his chest. He was turning into such a sap when it came to that girl.
"Is this going to be the type of party you used to go to? Like the one that led to me arresting you?”
"Dad, can I not be interrogated so early in the morning? It’s making my pancakes taste bad. You don't need to worry; I'm going to behave just fine with Martina around. Hell, if I even so much as drank I think she'd turn me in to you."
Clete grunted in agreement, then took a long swig of coffee. It was hard to disagree with the fact that nobody loved rules as much as Martina did. Ace wondered what was going through the crusty old cop's head. His father had always been a mystery to him – an impenetrable force of morality that Ace had spent most of his life fighting against.
Finally, Clete set down the cup and cleared his throat. "Listen, Ace. I want you to know I am proud of you. And I support you finding happiness. I hope you have a good time with Martina today."
"Thanks, Dad."
"I think she is a swell gal. Just don't do anything dumb and hurt her. You could certainly date someone worse," his father continued awkwardly, the words coming out in bursts.
Ace paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, and stared at his father. "A date? Who said anything about a date? We're just hanging out." He coughed and looked down at his plate.
Clete had a hint of laughter in his voice when he replied. "Well, I have a feeling at least one of you wishes it would turn into a date. Anyway, just know that I'm glad to see you happy."
The cop stood up and patted Ace on the shoulder heavily before leaving the room. This left Ace alone to stew over the whirlpool of emotions that was swirling in his head.
A date? Fuck, what did Dad mean? Does he mean that Martina might think this is a date? I want it to be one, but there is no way she’d feel the same. Besides, I haven't gone out with anyone in years, when I tried to go to school dances with some of the pretty cheerleaders, he thought to himself, swirling his fork through the remaining syrup on his plate.
He had decided pretty quickly that dating wasn't for him. He didn't feel anything at all when he held hands with the boring, insipid girls, and there was no rush of nervousness as they gave him pecks on the cheek after a dance. He’d certainly never been tempted to go to bed with anyone before, not like the way he’d been fantasizing about Martina the night before.
His mind flashed to Martina, and that day when they had talked for the first time in high school. Martina had stood there with hands on her slim hips, brown eyes staring straight into Ace's own with a hint of defiance. The wind had ruffled her already messy curly hair. And for the first time, Ace had felt butterflies.
And we saw exactly where those feelings got us, Ace thought bitterly. It made me into a coward, and Martina into a pariah because I threw her under the bus. That's why this can't be a date. Because I don't know how to handle the feelings, and I'll just fuck it up like everything else.
He tossed his plate into the sink carelessly and went to get ready for the date that he most definitely wasn't having. Because it totally wasn’t a date.
Right?
* * *
Ace was still in a bad mood when he slid into Martina's SUV later that afternoon. He huffed as he made himself comfortable in the passenger seat and buckled himself in with more force than necessary.
"You seem so excited to go to this party," Martina observed dryly as she pulled out of the parking spot along the street.
Ace grunted, a flash of guilt overtaking him. Martina had a way of making him feel like he should be a better person and it drove him nuts. "Sorry, my dad was being annoying."
Martina chuckled. "Oh, I know all about that. Mine takes helicopter parenting to a whole new level. I can't imagine how much worse he'd be if he was a cop."
“At least I'm in good company."
"Indeed. Also, I know it’s about an hour drive to the lake, so I brought along a surprise."
Ace turned to look at Martina, who was grinning mischievously while watching the road carefully. "What is it?"
"Hit play."
Intrigued, Ace hit the button and relaxed back into his seat. Within seconds the car was filled with an upbeat tempo that made his heart race.
"What is this? It sounds really familiar…"
"It is a bunch of songs from your favorite video games. I know you mentioned liking Mega Man, Super Mario, and other old games. So I found some cool remixes online, making the old songs sound refreshed and new."
Ace couldn't believe Martina had done something so thoughtful. His throat felt tight, and he looked out the window to avoid giving away too much in his expression. Not that ever-careful Martina would be looking his way while she was driving, but he figured it was best to conceal himself anyway.
"That's really awesome. Thanks for doing that," he managed to say at last.
Luckily, Martina didn't seem to notice anything was amiss, and continued to talk happily about video games for the rest of the drive. As she chattered on, Ace found himself relaxing in the inexplicable way he only did around her. All of his posturing went out the window, and he found himself laughing about all the nerdy hobbies he had kept hidden for years. She brought out the best in him, just by sitting beside him.
As the mountains flashed by outside the window, Ace wished they could skip the party and just keep driving. They could stay in their cocoon where all that mattered were the stupid joke
s and their easy banter. In the car he didn't have to face whatever his jumbled, chaotic feelings were trying to tell him. Or face the fact that Martina probably didn’t return the affection that was growing inside of him.
CHAPTER 11
T he ride to the lake was fun and enjoyable, and Martina was pleased to see that Ace had been excited about the gift. The animal keeper had fretted about the CD all morning, unsure if she should be so bold as to give her employee the little surprise. She had never had many friends, and wasn't sure if random gifts were something people gave each other. And the last thing she wanted was to creep out Ace.
However, it seemed to have gone better than she could have hoped. Ace drummed along to the songs on the dashboard, making jokes about some of their favorite video game moments. He looked more relaxed than Martina had ever seen him, and the fact that they might be becoming good friends seemed a real possibility.
Friends. That's exactly what we are, Martina thought to herself as she pulled into the dirt parking lot next to the lake. Friends.
Putting the car in park, she looked over at Ace. The man was stretching his hands over his head, making the rippling muscles on his arms move and twist beautifully. Martina swallowed hard and tried to focus on anything but how hot he looked in the evening light.
Friends. Don't get any ideas about a crush. You don't need that type of heartache right now, she chided herself. However, her eyes refused to stop taking in all the handsome, raw strength that made up Ace Bennett. He was delicious.
"You ready to go have some fun?" Ace said, a challenge on his face as he looked Martina's way.
She nodded, trying to get her tongue to work. "If by fun you mean some nice, orderly drama-free amusement, then sure."
"Never go with me to a party if you want some nice, orderly amusement," Ace said, before opening his car door and hopping out. “I don’t roll like that.”
Martina chuckled and followed after him. They made their way down the smooth path to the lakeshore, where a large group of people had gathered. There were several picnic tables covered in alcohol and food (Martina was pretty sure there was a lot more booze than food), lots of chairs strewn haphazardly around, and a large fire pit that was being started up. In the water itself she could see pool toys and rafts floating about.
"See? This will be fun," Ace said under his breath just before they reached the crowd.
"Right," Martina murmured back, squaring her shoulders. She tried to ignore the pit of dread in the bottom of her stomach.
"Ace! Good to see you," screamed a pretty blonde girl. She flung her arms around him, almost dropping a beer in her excitement. "Where have you been?"
"Keeping out of trouble," Ace laughed, before untangling himself from her arms. "What about you, Jessica?"
Jessica Avery, former cheerleader at their high school, took his hand in hers and gently led him away, chattering about her latest gossip. Ace shot Martina an apologetic look before being dragged off. Martina sighed and tried not to feel jealous.
There is nothing to feel jealous about. So he wants to hang out with a pretty girl. Who am I, his boring nerdy boss, to say anything to that? Martina groused to herself. However, the green feeling continued to sit in her chest, aching unpleasantly.
Not wanting to be a total spoilsport, and figuring she might as well enjoy the only wild party she had ever been invited to in her life, Martina meandered over to the nearest table and grabbed a soda. Several old classmates were sitting around and they waved to her happily. She sat down hesitantly, expecting someone to make a callous remark, but was delighted to see that most people were just interested in hearing about the animal park and her work.
As they peppered her with questions about her job, her shoulders began to relax. She was in her element when talking about the eagles and wolves, and her audience seemed to actually appreciate her knowledge. As she looked around the friendly faces surrounding her, she realized that perhaps everyone really had grown up into better people.
She was busy explaining the differences between the various parrots currently residing in the park by the time Ace finally reappeared by the table. She nodded to him in greeting, before continuing on with the story.
"So, do they talk and stuff?" asked Phil, a lanky redhead who had once played basketball on the school's team and now worked at the downtown deli.
"The ones we rescued from people's homes often do. People buy the birds and don't realize the feathered guys are going to live seventy years. So the owners think it’s funny to teach the bird how to cuss, but after being told to ‘fuck off’ for five years suddenly the owners decide it’s time to rehome the bird. That is where I come in."
Phil nodded, as did several of the other people around him. "But how do you keep them from cussing at the park visitors?"
"We don't," Ace broke in, smiling slightly. "Just a few days ago one of the birds decided to call a nice old lady a bitchhole."
"A bitchhole?" Laura chimed from next to Phil. She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. She had always been a straight talker, and someone Martina actually liked. "That bird sounds like it has a better sailor's mouth than even you, Ace."
Ace puffed up, and Martina knew the guy was about to go on a very long, profanity-laden speech to prove that he was, in fact, the bad guy he tried to convince everyone he was. Martina stood up and grabbed his arm, pulling him away. Hearing him name all the four-letter words he could wasn’t currently at the top of her list of favorite things.
“Ace, I want to see the lake. Let's go. Nice talking to everyone!" She waved at the group, who quickly went back to talking amongst themselves as she dragged her charge away.
"Do you really want to see the lake?" Ace asked suspiciously. Even though he was much larger than Martina, he was allowing himself to be led across the sand easily.
"Of course. I love swimming," Martina answered lightly.
She could feel Ace's muscles under her grip, and realized she had hung onto the man's arm for way longer than was socially acceptable. However, she didn’t want to stop. She couldn't deny the way her heart pounded at their contact, and she didn't want to let him go. Ace was so strong, and with his charismatic energy, Martina felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
The problem with flames, though, was that they quickly burn you. I should stop this.
Ace seemed to sense Martina's tension, and looked down at his arm. He didn't say anything about the fact they were still touching. In fact, Martina could swear that she felt Ace move closer, so the only thing between them was the thin fabric of their clothing.
"I think I need a beer," Martina croaked at last, unable to deal with the turmoil of emotions raging through her small frame.
Ace nodded and quickly swiped two unopened bottles off a nearby table. The movement caused them to break their connection. Martina blew out a big breath, unsure if she was relieved or disappointed to no longer feel the steel that was Ace's muscles under her fingertips.
"Come on, let's sit with our feet in the water. It'll cool us off," Ace said nonchalantly, slipping out of his flip flops and then picking them up in one fluid motion.
They sauntered to the water and sat down on a flat piece of grass just at the edge of the shore. They slid their feet into the cool water and sat in silence, each sipping a beer. It was comfortable, and Martina began to relax as she watched the sun slowly descend behind the distant horizon. Behind them, the laughter of the party continued on, but the noise didn’t seem to penetrate too deeply into their quiet little cocoon.
Ace was the one to eventually break their reverie. "I like this place. Reminds me of my childhood, since my mom always used to bring me out here for summer camp and stuff."
"I don't think I ever met your mom," Martina said, shooting a furtive glance at Ace. His mother's death had fundamentally changed the jock, everyone in town knew that, but it wasn't something he ever seemed to talk about.
"You would have liked her. She was nothing like me, have no fear," Ace said, a bitter note gra
cing the laughter in his voice. "Nothing like me at all."
"What was she like then?" Martina didn't know why she was pressing Ace to continue. Maybe it was because the man seemed to have a need to talk that night, to bear his soul. And perhaps it was also because Martina got a sweet thrill from being the confidant of Ace Bennett. Sure, it only meant they were friends – a fact she knew she should pay more attention to – but it was nice to have a real friend to confide in. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had told her a secret, except for perhaps Concetta.
"She was friendly and compassionate. We couldn't even go to the grocery store without her finding someone she knew and chatting for an hour. From the police chief to the janitor in my school, she remembered everyone's names and always took the time to ask how their kids were doing."
"She sounds really nice. I'm sorry she's gone."
"Me too. Nothing has been the same since she died."
"I know what you mean. My mother was…" Martina fumbled with the words, but found nothing adequate to express the strange mixture of terror, love, and despair she felt whenever she thought of her own mother.
"My dad told me. I'm really sorry to hear what she did to you." Ace gripped his beer bottle tightly as he spoke, and he looked over at Martina with burning eyes. "No one deserves that to happen to them, least of all you."
Martina shivered from the ferocity of Ace's look. It was dominant and protective, and Martina tried not to blush too much from the thrill of having a man look at her like that. Like she was worth changing the world for.
Can he feel the spark too? Am I going crazy? There is no way Ace could like me, could he?
Martina gulped and tried to steer the conversation back on course before she got too discombobulated. "I'm actually glad your dad told you about it, so I don't have to. I hate talking about it." She looked back over the water, visions of the night that changed her life flashing through her mind, no matter how hard she tried to fight them off. "I brought it up though, because I wanted you to know I get it. I know what it's like to lose your mother. Mine's not dead, but she might as well be. She certainly isn't the mother who tucked me into bed and kissed my forehead anymore. And nothing was ever the same after she left."