Ace of Hearts

by Chantal Fernando

  I come to a stop at my door and use the key to open it. I hate that I fumble a little, flustered at his close proximity. I can feel his warmth behind me, almost touching me, and I hesitate for a moment, wanting to invite him in but knowing I probably shouldn’t. Knuckles saw us sitting together on my bed today, is he going to say something? Is Dreads? Can anyone who looks at us see the dangerous connection brewing between us? Or is it just me and what I feel?

  The door opens, but Ace doesn’t step through as I do.

  “How long do you need?” he asks me, resting his arm on the frame.

  “An hour should suffice.”

  A grin, and then, “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  He walks back toward where we just came from, and I watch him leave, biting my lip.

  The man has the best ass I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  9

  Not too shabby, Erin, not too shabby at all. Especially under the circumstances,” I say to the mirror, checking myself out. Luckily I’d packed the makeup essentials and was able to do my favorite wing liner paired with a nude lip. I add a little more highlight to my cheekbones to finish off, just as there’s a quiet knock on my door. I open it with a smile, expecting Ace, but Gage is there instead. My smile doesn’t waver.

  “Hey, Gage.”

  “You look . . . you’re stunning, Erin,” he says, opening the door further. “I just wanted to check on you.”

  “I’m just finishing getting ready,” I tell him, sticking my head out. “Are people arriving now?”

  He nods. He’s wearing his usual getup, denim and leather, clearly not bothering to put in any extra effort for anyone dropping by. I like that about him. What you see is what you get. His short dark hair is spiked up a little, like all he did was run his fingers through it. “Yeah, people will be in and out for the rest of the night. Just be careful, all right? Friends bring friends, so we don’t always know and trust everyone who may be here. The Ravens and I will be with you, keeping an eye on you, but I just wanted to tell you to be vigilant.”

  “I will be,” I promise him. “Are we going to have our first drink together?”

  He shakes his head and barks out a laugh. “You’re barely legal, kid.”

  “Excuse me, I’m twenty-one.” I do a little happy dance, and I can tell he’s amused at my antics and only messing with me.

  “We’ll see,” he replies, blue eyes sparkling. He rubs his hands on his leather vest, like there was something sticky on them, and says, “There’s cake. Lots of cake.”

  “And you’ve been eating some, have you?”

  “I needed to test the quality before my daughter consumes it,” he replies, keeping a straight face.

  “I’ll bet. Give me ten and I’ll be out to help with quality control,” I say.

  He nods with a grin and backs away, as I close the door and lean against it. Do I wait for Ace, or do I just walk out there and start socializing? I’ve finished putting my black boots on when there’s another knock at the door, this one louder, bolder. I rush to open it and come face-to-face with the man I can’t seem to stop thinking about.

  “I know I keep telling you that you look beautiful, but I can’t seem to think of any other word to use when I’m in front of you,” is the first thing he says to me.

  “This is only the second time you’ve called me that. But I suppose you can always get a thesaurus app on your phone for the next compliment,” I tease, taking him in from head to toe. He’s changed into a fresh pair of dark jeans and is wearing a black shirt, no leather in sight tonight, aside from his boots. I take a deep breath, loving the warm, spicy scent of him, the one that lingers on his leather jacket, one that’s not overpowering, the one that makes me want to bury my face in the crook of his neck. “You look . . .”

  Sexy?

  Fuckable?

  Edible?

  Shit, maybe I need the app, too.

  He doesn’t even let me finish. “You look like you’re making it hard for me to behave myself tonight. Like life is really fucking unfair right now and testing the shit out of me.”

  “You always this dramatic?” I ask, trying to ease the growing tension.

  “No,” he replies, not stopping me as I step closer to him, closing my eyes and resting my head against his chest.

  “Is this going to be a problem?”

  “You’re one giant problem, princess,” he replies on a deep sigh.

  “What cologne are you wearing?” I ask, getting lost in him, ignoring his comment. Do we have to attend this thing? I’d rather sit with him on my bed again, having chats about anything and everything and trying to figure each other out.

  “It’s a Tom Ford one, why?” he asks, running his large, calloused hand down my back. I shiver as his skin touches mine where my top ends, and as he threads his thumb through the belt loop of my jeans, I press my breasts right up against him.

  “It smells so damn good,” I admit, lifting my head and glancing up at him.

  Blue meets gray, fire and ice clash, and I think I fall in love a little bit.

  “What?”

  “Just wondering when you’re going to kiss me,” I say, licking my lips.

  “You’re bold for someone so young,” he murmurs, tucking my hair back behind my ear.

  “Age doesn’t mean anything, Ace. Connection does.”

  People spend their whole lives looking to connect with someone. To feel that pull, that tether, and to be understood. To be loved. He might be a big, tough biker, but he can’t pretend he’s different from the rest of us.

  He gently pushes me back into my room and closes the door behind us, this time pressing the lock.

  “Is that what this is? Connection?” he asks me, sounding doubtful.

  Before I can reply though, he lowers his head, cupping my cheeks in his warm, rough palms, and kisses me. Gentle at first, soft and sweet. Unsure. All that soon changes as we melt into the kiss, his lips becoming demanding, greedy. His tongue slips inside my mouth, and his hands move from my face to my waist, pulling me closer. I moan as he dips me back, my back arching, like in a romantic movie. His thumbs caress my hips, and I’m lost in the sensations. I’ve never been kissed like this in my life, and I have to wonder if I hadn’t met him, if I ever would.

  He tastes like cake, and I can now approve the quality.

  I can feel him harden between us, his cock straining against the denim of his jeans, looking for a way out. Brazenly, I reach between us and stroke him, wishing it was his bare skin against my palm. He’s big. Really big. I’ve slept with two men before this, and both of them pale in comparison to what I feel beneath my hold.

  He breaks the kiss and mutters, “Fuck.”

  “Ace—”

  “How am I supposed to go out there now, with this?” he asks, peering down at his cock.

  “I could take care of that for you.” I grin.

  He doesn’t look amused.

  “Is being sexually frustrated making you really grumpy?” I snicker.

  “You’re about to find out,” he grits out, adjusting himself and looking to my door. “We’d better go there before they come looking for us.”

  I puff out a breath, trying to ignore my own sexual frustration. That kiss has left me turned on, wet, and wanting more.

  “Don’t worry, you’re not the only one suffering here,” I admit, stepping to the door.

  “That makes it worse,” he tells me, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, leaving it sticking up, looking like he just got out of bed.

  Yeah, I have a feeling that tonight is going to be a long one.

  And not in a good way.

  “How does it feel, staying in the clubhouse?” Veronica asks when she finds me in the kitchen.

  “It’s different,” I admit to her. “The men are all really nice though, and interesting. Is your house close by to here?”

  “About ten minutes away,” she explains, pouring herself a Scotch on the rocks. “Gage is home a few nights, and spends
the rest here. You know, if there’s anything you want, or anything I can do for you, all you need to do is ask. Us women need to stick together.”

  This woman confuses me. She’s super nice, and I don’t know if it’s just her blunt blond bob and exaggeratedly arched brows that give her an almost villain-like appearance, but I can’t imagine the two of us being best friends or anything. Since I’ve met her, I haven’t been able to get a read on her, and I really don’t like that. I like to think I’m a good judge of character. Maybe it’s just because she’s with my dad and I’m being petty. She hasn’t done or said anything wrong to me, so maybe I’m just being a little . . . I don’t know. Not jealous, but maybe just careful.

  “How long have the two of you been together?” I ask nosily.

  “About three years now,” she says, pursing her pink lips in thought. “Yeah, about that. He’s the love of my life. A good man, your father.”

  “I’m beginning to learn that,” I tell her, washing my hands after eating a slice of the vanilla buttercream cake. I’ve had a few drinks and am enjoying my happy buzz. Ace has been with me for most of the night, but I left him by the bonfire outside with a few of the men while I used the bathroom, then stopped in the kitchen to grab some water.

  “Are you going to come outside and have a chat with us?” I ask her, not wanting to be rude, and wanting to get to know her a little more. If this is the woman Gage has in his life, we should get along, right?

  “I’ll be out after I finish up in here,” she says, smiling. “Go on and have a good time, Erin.”

  I nod, force a smile, and head back outside. I stand next to Knuckles, who is watching his two daughters chat with a few of the other children.

  “They’re beautiful girls,” I tell him.

  Willow is his eldest, and looks to be about thirteen. Westley must be a few years younger, and they are both similar in looks and coloring.

  “I know,” he replies, scowling. “Too beautiful. Can you imagine when Willow starts dating? I’m going to have to go to prison; it’s the only possible outcome.”

  And Ace calls me dramatic.

  “I’m sure that’s not the only option,” I reply calmly, trying hard not to laugh. “You could just not kill any of her dates. That works too, you know.”

  He makes a growling sound.

  I start humming “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

  “Just wait until you have to introduce a man to the prez. Have you thought about that?” he asks, turning the tables on me. “He’d have to be man enough to face off with the entire MC.”

  “Well, there you go, kind of weeds out the pussies, don’t you think? Only a brave . . . or really stupid man would be willing to put up with you lot.”

  “That is true,” he chuckles. “So what’s going on with you and Ace?”

  My eyes widen, and I question whether I just heard right. “Sorry?”

  “You’re always together, and you both can’t keep your eyes off each other. Even right now, when two women are trying to get his attention, he keeps looking over here at you.”

  My head darts in the direction I saw Ace last. “What women? They better not be trying to get his . . . anything.”

  I spot Ace, standing and talking to Dreads and Rogue, no women to be seen.

  “Point proved,” Knuckles rumbles, bringing his beer bottle to his lips. “You better be careful. Things work differently around here. Ace is going to be in a world of trouble if he crosses any lines with you.”

  I expel a deep sigh. “I’m beginning to figure that out. Trust me to finally find a guy I’m interested in and I’m off-limits to him. You won’t say anything, will you?”

  “Not my business,” he tells me.

  “You were acting like it was a second ago,” I mutter, only making him laugh once more. “I’m glad I’m so amusing. I seriously don’t know how this is my life.”

  “You were kind of thrown into the deep end, weren’t you? I remember meeting your mama once, you know. She was a beautiful woman, and very sweet.” He pauses, and then adds, “I think your personality is more like your father’s though.”

  “Was that meant to be a compliment or a put-down?” I ask him, arching my brow up high. “I seriously can’t tell.”

  He shakes his head and murmurs, “Got his brains too.”

  “Whose brains?” Gage asks as he comes to stand next to me, eyeing the two of us. “What shit you telling my girl, man?”

  “Merely pointing out the similarities between the two of you,” he says, eyes going back to his daughters.

  I decide to turn the topic to him. “So they call you Knuckles because you’re a good fighter, right? Are you the best fighter in the MC then? Who have you fought with in the MC before?”

  That has to be it.

  The scars on his hands speak for themselves.

  “That was my drug dealer name,” he says casually, grins, then bails, walking over to Willow and Westley.

  “True or false?” I ask Gage.

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  Well, shit.

  10

  I’m back at Ace’s side when I see the woman who was at Ace’s door last night, and my eyes narrow. She’s with another girl and walking back inside the clubhouse, both of them in short, tight dresses. I don’t know anything about this woman, but I already know I don’t like her. I could never like anyone who wants Ace, or has been with him. And I doubt that she would like me either. Wait, has he been with her? I don’t think I’ve ever asked him that.

  “What’s wrong?” Ace asks, following my line of sight to the woman. “Oh. Can you unclench your fists? I told you nothing happened, and I sent her on her way.”

  “Have you slept with her before?” I ask him, needing to know the answer.

  “Yes,” he instantly admits.

  “At least you’re honest,” I grumble. “Is that your type? Meth chic?”

  I know I sound petty, so I tell myself to calm down, because he hasn’t done anything wrong, and although I might be showing my age in this moment, I don’t care.

  He stares at me for a second, then throws his head back and laughs, a deep booming sound. “Meth chic? I like that.”

  “Clearly,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Let me break it down for you, princess. I’m a man with needs. Being in this MC guarantees me pussy on tap. I don’t even have to work for it. So, yes, I’ve indulged, and I’ve had my fun, and I don’t regret a second of it.” He leans closer, and in a quieter voice adds, “But if I was with someone, and we were all about each other, I’d be faithful and loyal, and that’s more than you can say for most men these days.”

  So the wild Ace can be tamed? Okay, tamed is the wrong word. He thinks he can be committed to one woman, if the right woman came along. But until then . . .

  My gaze drops to his lips.

  I want to lick them.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he growls, making a sound of frustration deep in his throat.

  “Like what?” I ask, sinking my teeth into my lower lip. He looks away, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, while I bring my beer to my lips and take a mouthful. I hear some cheering and look toward the clubhouse. “What’s going on in there?”

  “Rogue must be singing,” he replies absently, taking me by my wrist and pulling me against him.

  “Rogue sings?” I ask, eyebrows hitting my hairline. “Is he any good?”

  “Yeah. He plays guitar too,” he explains, looking down at me. “Open your door for me tonight.”

  “Wh-what?” I ask, not sure that I heard correctly. “You’re going to sneak into my room?”

  He nods slowly. “You’re driving me fuckin’ insane, Erin. I won’t fuck you, I can’t do that to my club, but that doesn’t mean I can’t come and spend the night with you.”

  So sex is off-limits, but everything else is okay? I don’t know how he’s justified that inside his head, but apparently he has. I have no idea how this is going to work. Things wo
uld have been so much easier if we’d just stayed away from each other.

  What a clusterfuck.

  Shack comes up and stands next to us, another man with him. “Erin,” he says, nodding at me in greeting.

  “Hey, Shack,” I reply in a tone that could be warmer.

  “Erin, this is Shovel,” Ace introduces, referring to the other man, who is heavily tattooed from his neck to his fingers.

  “Nice to meet you, Shovel,” I say, looking into his warm brown eyes.

  “You too,” he replies, offering me a small smile. “Been hearing a lot about you.”

  “So I’ve heard,” I say, with a smile that can be heard in my tone.

  Shack clears his throat, then murmurs, “So, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for hitting on you last night. How the fuck was I supposed to know that you were going to be the prez’s daughter? I thought you were just a—”

  “I get it,” I reply, interrupting him from making me like him even less. “And apology accepted.”

  He flashes me a grin and then looks to Ace. “I thought Prez was going to kill me when he found out what I’d said to her.” He cringes, then returns his gaze to me. “I don’t even want to stand within two feet of you anymore.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’ll live, I promise.”

  “You weren’t in our club meeting. You should have heard Prez giving all of us the riot act, saying that none of us were to even think of getting close to you like that. I mean if one of us were to—”

  “That’s enough, Shack,” Ace bites out.

  I look to Ace, who isn’t smiling or looking amused one bit. This is entering dangerous territory.

  “Come on, let’s go listen to Rogue,” I say, changing the subject and trying to enjoy tonight. This celebration is for everyone to meet me, and I want to be present. I pull Ace toward the house, waving to Shovel and Shack as we go, and he lets me. As I step inside, I see Rogue sitting on a stool with a guitar in his hands, everyone around him, enthralled by his talent. His hair has fallen across his forehead; he looks down at his instrument as he sings and plays so effortlessly.