Ace (Syns of Desert Angels MC Book 1)

by L. M. Reign

  “We’ve waited long enough,” she whispers in my ear, biting my lobe as I tease her pussy with the tip of my cock. She writhes, chasing my head with impatience before I press inside her. Releasing a low moan, she arches herself against me.

  I hold back, trying to freeze this moment a little longer, until the weight of lust crushes us. No more foreplay, no more teasing, no more dangling along the edge. Just pure animalistic fucking.

  I pound into her, giving her a little more each time, watching her breasts shake with each thrust. Her gasps let me know that she’s escalating. Her body starts to tremble with anticipation. I can feel her spasming around my cock.

  “Flip over. All fours,” I command, urging her to move quickly.

  Climbing up behind her, I slam into her again, finding a harsh rhythm until she’s whimpering my name. She pushes herself against me, fisting the blankets, and using the bed for leverage. I grab fistfuls of her tits, my teeth scoring her shoulder.

  “Goddamnit, Mila,” I groan, staring at the perfection of her back. The violent shake of her ass against my thrusts has me pounding into her angrily with five years’ worth of unfulfilled need. I smack her cheeks, one for each time she pushed me away, keeping me from this. Keeping us from this.

  Her moans strengthen, and I can tell she’s close. Flipping her back over, I slide inside, watching the ecstasy take her over. She coils her arms around my waist, nails digging into my ass, clutching me closer as her body gushes with carnal satisfaction.

  I lose all control, spiraling into a frenzy of final thrusts as I let myself go, coming deep inside her. The tightening of her pussy welcoming all of me. Staying rooted inside of her, I lean up on my elbows, planting a kiss on her parted lips.

  She smiles lazily, opening her bright eyes. And for a second, it was like we were never apart.

  _____________________

  Mila

  Half an hour later, I’m lying on my side in his bed. Still recovering my senses. Each of them warring with each other - hitting me head on. Screaming how much of a mistake this was, no matter how fun.

  I could feel his eyes on me. “What?”

  He props himself up on one arm, hovering over me. I take in his mussed-up hair hanging over his right eye, his jaw full of day-old stubble, and his muscular arm that’s braced on the pillow next to me.

  How could anyone not want him? He’s perfection personified. The bad boy with a good heart. I know it’s there, and I know I can’t claim it.

  “Mila…” he coaxes, smoothing my hair off my face. “Your thoughts are screamin’ aren’t they?”

  I nod softly.

  “We can’t,” I tell him honestly. Because we really can’t. He doesn’t even know what happened. What I did. How I... killed his baby.

  “Okay. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. One day at a time, baby. Sleep,” he leans over, planting a kiss on my neck.

  What he didn’t know was that I couldn’t - wouldn’t - talk about it. Instead, I decide to let the past stay locked deep in the recesses of my heart, letting tonight just be what it was without the regretful noose tightening around my neck.

  _____________________

  I wake up slowly, drifting in and out, unsure if the light is from the sun or if I’m stuck in euphoria.

  Memories of last night assault me. The kiss in the hallway, him carrying me outside, the way he drove faster to get us home. And the sex.

  Oh my god. He brought me to his house. His house. His bed. Not the grungy club bed but his.

  I can’t help but smile as I roll over, landing on the sculpted hardness of his body. The one that kept his promise of keeping me warm last night.

  He’s lying on his side, his hand propped under his head, his hair sticking up in wild angles.

  I lean up on my elbow and watch his body move in time with his breaths for a while. My eyes flicker over the tattoos on his arms. They dance across his skin in a myriad of colors, telling a story of the cosmos and galaxies; of something greater than what we are.

  The reaper makes me smile at the symbolism. The direct contradiction inked on his skin battles with his station in life.

  The small snore coming from his lips is enough to jolt me to full awareness.

  I shouldn’t be here. This was a mistake.

  I carefully extract myself from the bed gently, avoiding waking him.

  Our clothes are scattered across the floor like a bomb went off, and I find my dress pooled in a wrinkled mess on the floor. Tossing it over the chair in the corner, I look around. This may feel like a mistake, but I can’t bring myself to put it on. Putting it on means it’s over and I have to go back to reality. I shouldn’t be here, but I can’t bring myself to leave either.

  Rifling through his dresser, I settle on a pair of boxers and a wifebeater, inhaling the scent of him as I venture downstairs.

  Moving quietly through the hallway, the walls are stark white, devoid of any indication of life within these walls. Furniture crowds the mounted TV, spare and hardly used. Motorcycle magazines are stacked neatly on the end table, and the untouched decorative pillows on the couch make my stomach lurch.

  That’s a feminine touch. Did he buy this house with another woman?

  Ignoring the burning question, I make my way into the kitchen which is fully stocked but seemingly untouched as well. I scan the appliances on the counter until I settle on the one I need the most: the coffee maker.

  There’s a little note from Bloom, telling him that she’s stocked up the fridge and spruced up the living room for him. My shoulders sag in relief.

  That answers that question.

  I start a pot and sit at the breakfast bar, the wafting scent mingling with something that’s distinctly Cole, creating an aroma I want to bottle up and take home.

  He called it his house. Not his home.

  An overwhelming sense of sadness rushes through me at the thought. Has he ever really had a home? Milo and I did our best to try to make our place feel like a one. It doesn’t look like Cole even tried. This is just a storage bin for him.

  The coffee spurts its dying breath, and I jump up and start searching for a mug. Three cabinets in and all I have found is knives, shot glasses, ketchup packets, and a weird pug cookie jar. I close that cabinet quickly.

  Ever since my cousin’s pug’s eye popped out, I can’t look at them the same again. I found myself smiling at the fact that Cole has weird things in his cabinets. He never put things where they should go, and it was one of the endearing traits that I loved about him.

  That thought makes me freeze. Ness’ words coming back to me.

  You’re falling for him again.

  He really does love you.

  My body goes rigid at the realization that I had been waiting for him to be a dick. To leave again. Like when he did, I’d finally be proven right. Released from the spell he’s placed on me - the one that keeps me moving, but still all at once.

  But he hasn’t. He’s been there, true to his word.

  “They’re over there.” His groggy voice startles me from my introspection and I watch the scene that follows unfold with merciless torment.

  “What the fuck!?” Cole yells, ducking to dodge the knife I’ve thrown his way.

  “Oh my God,” I cover my mouth. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” I lean on the island, peering over at him crouched on the floor.

  “You,” he unfurls from his spot, muscles flinching as he pulls the knife from the door, “know that’s not the kind of wakeup call I was expectin’.”

  His groggy state evaporated, leaving laughter in his eyes. Bounding across the island, he corners me, lifting me onto the counter. Settling between my legs, he pulls me painfully close.

  “Sorry. I have poor aim when it comes to cutting throats.”

  He snorts, the little sound passing from his body to mine. “I doubt that, but I’ll settle for a hug.” Wrapping my arms around his waist, I relax into the warmth of his arms, and rest my head on his chest.

  We let the
silence settle over us, his hands running slowly up and down my arms, spreading warmth through my cold limbs. I close my eyes briefly as his touch elicits a shiver from my body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

  The way we slipped back into old habits scared me because that little voice in the back of my head was firing off warnings like the fourth of July.

  This isn’t your life.

  You shouldn’t be here.

  Nothing will change.

  He won’t love you once he knows.

  Silencing that voice, I focus on the way his hands roam over me. The warmth seeping from his fingertips brings my body to life.

  “Morning,” I hum, looking up at him with renewed interest.

  “Mornin’,” he smiles down at me, hands moving from my arms down to my ass.

  I take the time to truly appreciate his body. The way the tight boxer briefs hug his hips, the lines of his tattoo molding to his perfectly chiseled chest, his hair wild and free.

  Gone is the boy’s body and standing here is the man’s. His chest has a few scars hidden well by ink. I run my fingers over the raised skin, questioning how he got these.

  As if sensing my thoughts, he pulls my hand to his lips, skirting small kisses across my knuckles. “Lot’s happened.”

  “Why the angel of death?” I look up at him with curious eyes.

  “Why him and his lover?”

  I purse my lips, shaking my head.

  “Hey,” he looks at me with a half-grin, though I know it’s only there to hide his disappointment with my inability to share. “Let’s not spoil today. You tell me when you want to, right?”

  I nod and he grabs me, pulling me in for a slow, soft kiss. His hands move, once again, down to my ass where they settle. I feel the bulge in his briefs harden and grow.

  We pull away and he looks at me with narrowed eyes, searching for something.

  “You don’t regret last night, do you? You started freakin’ out there for a second.”

  “No,” I don’t hesitate. “I don’t regret last night, but I know I shouldn’t be here, though.”

  “Why? And don’t tell me this doesn’t change anything. You know damn well it does.”

  He traces the line of my jaw with rough fingers, gently coaxing the answer from me.

  “It changes some things, but not everything, Cole. I still have a job to do. And our history is still there.”

  “You won’t let me explai-” I cut him off, pushing a finger against his lips.

  “I will. One day. But not now. Right now, I don’t want to think about the past. I just... want to make the most of this moment. Right now, here with you.”

  His eyes sparkle matching his mischievous smile, daring me to hold a grudge against him.

  “What?”

  “You said one day.”

  “So?”

  “That means there’ll be more days like this.” His quirked eyebrow makes me giggle.

  “Shut up and feed me.” I poke his stomach.

  “I’ll feed you somethin’,” he places my hand over his bulge.

  I laugh and catch him looking at me with admiring eyes before confessing what the lonely girl inside of me has wanted to hear.

  “I want you here every day.”

  _____________________

  Cole

  A few hours later, I lay on my side, staring at her. After we ate, I took her again and again. Almost every surface in my house has been graced with Mila’s ass. Once we recovered and came down from the high, she fell asleep.

  Laying on her stomach, I trace the lines on her back with an appreciative finger until I can’t stand the distance between us anymore. Slipping my hand around her waist, I pull her closer until the cool skin of her back is pressed against my chest.

  “I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said I wanted you here every day,” I whisper in her hair, hands roving across the curve of her breasts. “I want us to get the past out of the way and look forward to the future. You and me. None of that bullshit.”

  She stirs, turning those ash blue eyes on me. “We have a lot to figure out, Cole. And I’m afraid that neither of us will get what we want,” she tells me, her face serious.

  “What do you want?”

  “Nevermind that right now. I have some questions.”

  Propping myself up on some pillows, I pull her onto me, settling her between my legs, her chin resting on my chest.

  “Ask away.”

  “Skin trade?”

  I decide honesty is the only way we can live our lives now. “Money.”

  “Do you want to be doing that stuff?”

  “No. But we need money.” I trace the curve of her back, resting my hands on her ass.

  “What did you get arrested for? I saw your mugshot.”

  “Ugh,” I groan. “Class-A Misdemeanor. I got put away for possession.”

  “Dealing?”

  “Personal use.” Shame is a heavy bastard when you turn to the things that you vowed were the reasons you and your girl couldn’t be together.

  Mila stares at me like I told her I killed someone.

  “Seriously? You were doing drugs? Jesus, Cole.”

  “Not anymore. I quit cold turkey after Brass caught me on the verge of an overdose. He locked me in Tank’s cabin in the woods for weeks until I detoxed every last bit. Never again. I promise.”

  She looks at me keenly, pulling back a little, as if hesitant to say what’s on her mind. Not wanting to keep talking about myself, I turn the questions on her.

  “What about you? What were you doin’ the last five years? I know college was a lie. Ness told me.”

  She sighs and moves away to sit beside me. Taking the covers with her, she crosses her legs.

  “No. I didn’t go to college. I went into training.”

  “Meat heel, right?”

  “No,” she laughs, genuinely. “Meitheal. I tried to put it off for as long as possible, but we had our initiation shortly after…” she paused, leaving the statement hanging. “... You know. Then we went straight into training.”

  She didn’t weaponize the words when she said them. Instead, she just stated them as part of her story - facts of her life.

  “We spent months there, honing our skills - perfecting our tactile strengths. After we finished, we joined the Elite. And here we are, many jobs later, still a team. Still together.”

  “And all that shit about tryin’ to get me to go with you guys? Was that you recruitin’ me?”

  She shook her head; a small smile graced her lips.

  “Yes and no. It was more selfishness on my part. I wanted you to go with me, but I didn’t ever think that you wouldn’t want to. That was my mistake.”

  “I should’ve gone with you.”

  Mila laughs and looks at me with soft eyes.

  “I would’ve done anything to hear those words then. I’m glad that you didn’t, though. What we had to go through, it wasn’t fair for me to ask that of you. Not when you already spent your life fighting.”

  “You went through celery, right?”

  “You are really bad with names. It’s Celerity. And yes, I did.”

  “Fuckin’ Milo,” I snarl, hugging her closer.

  “It wasn’t him,” she says, rubbing my hand soothingly. “It was me. I chose him, and I would do it all over again.” She lays back down beside me. I grab her hand, inspecting her tattoo.

  “What’s with the ‘Muh kee-kee’ stuff with you and him?”

  “Mo Chuisle,” she corrects me again, “is a covenant where you bind yourself to a lifelong partner.”

  My eyes give away my thoughts, drawing a sweet laugh from her lips.

  “Not like how you’re thinking,” she continues. “Not like that at all. It means ‘my pulse’. We took an oath to stand together as lifelong fray partners where we promised to honor, protect, and defend each other regardless of the circumstance. We chose the rose as the symbol of our oath.”

  “Why kiss it?” I couldn’t hide the edge in my voice
.

  “Just a way of showing we’re there for each other. We chose it for mom.

  We honor her when we protect and defend each other. He’s my pulse bound to me by blood and oath.”

  Silence descended over us and I felt the overwhelming urge to make sure she knew the one thing that was at the very essence of my being.

  I’m yours.

  “I’m still yours, you know. Whenever you want me… I’m yours. I just didn’t want this life for you.”

  “I didn’t want this for you,” she counters. “But this was my future even before you left. Don’t think I went off and joined because of you.”

  “Before? You didn’t want to be in the Syndicate.”

  “And you didn’t want to be a biker. We’re not so different after all,” she yawns. I felt a little smug at the sight.

  I wore her out.

  I decide to turn the conversation back to smoother waters.

  “What about marriage? Is there a covenant for that?”

  Her answer is cut short by the banging on the front door. Reaching over, she grabs her phone.

  “Shit. I have to go.” I watch her scramble from the bed, jerking her dress back on and grabbing her heels. “We’ll talk later, okay?” She leans over, drawing her lips towards mine. Tangling my hands in her hair, I pour all the words I couldn’t say into the kiss.

  I want a second chance and this time; forever isn’t a hyperbole.

  Chapter 13

  Cole

  After a quick shower, I head downstairs and find Brass sitting in the kitchen. He looked exhausted, like he’d spent all night fighting or fucking. Or both.

  “What you doin’ here?”

  “You missed church.”

  I check my phone, all the notifications and text messages staring back at me with fury.

  Fuck.

  “And Ness followed me here to pick up Mila. Said somethin’ about sparrin’ today. Who even spars anymore? That’s some medieval shit.”