Young Love

by Alyson Santos

  “Do you finally know what you want, Sienna Porter?” His voice is low, intimate. Calloused fingers slide up my neck.

  “I…” want you naked. Want you raw and desperate.

  His fingers tighten and force me into the wall. I pull in a breath as he lets go and frames my head with his forearms. My thighs are already opening for him when his knee presses between them.

  “You tortured me this afternoon,” he says, lips close and yet not where I want them. “Feel that?”

  He takes my hand, but no guidance is necessary. I gasp as he moves his knee in slow arcs against my core. Moan. With each pass, the intensity grows, and I feel the restrained power of primed muscle. A guttural sound escapes him as well when I grip him, mirroring his movements against me. Empowered, I continue to work his body, loving the way it tenses and submits to my touch.

  “I know what I want,” I breathe.

  “Yeah?” His mouth slants over mine, fighting for every breath I give him.

  We rock in fluid harmony. Hands and lips, bodies tense and desperate for relief in each other.

  “What do you want then?” he whispers against my ear.

  “You,” I breathe.

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  He grips the collar of his shirt and pulls it over his head. I smooth the hair back from his eyes and draw him in for another violent kiss. Suddenly, I need his bare skin on mine. I need everything about him and shrug out of my blouse. His gaze devours the swells of my breasts, the lines of my collar bone, then back to my eyes.

  “Damn, you don’t even know how beautiful you are, do you?” he says.

  Heat flashes up my neck and into my cheeks.

  “Especially when that happens.”

  He pulls my hair back and traces his lips over my skin as if absorbing every ember of my blush.

  “I have a confession,” he says, filling his lungs with me.

  “What’s that?” I breathe, already under his spell. He feels amazing. Every hard inch of him is perfection as I run my hands along the ridges and valleys of his chest. I don’t want to ever stop touching him.

  “I’m not a virgin.”

  I freeze. Glance up. And burst into laughter at the teasing smile on his face.

  Sex god. Boy toy. Jace is none of those things. He’s a sweet, attentive, alluring man that makes my blood pound and heart explode. I can’t stop touching him even after we finish. I can’t stop tracing the beautiful features of his face.

  The way his eyes light up when he smiles over at me. The way his lips part when he’s lost in his head. I reach over and run my finger over the sexy curve of his mouth, startling him from whatever invisible world drew him away. Lying naked beside Jace Beckett is heaven.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  He flinches slightly before turning that addictive smile on me. “Yeah. Sorry. Just thinking about Aiden. I wanted to take him to the beach this weekend, but Louis insists we need to finish up a job in West Lawn. Aiden was crushed when I canceled.”

  He takes my fingers and kisses them, not letting go. I burrow closer until my cheek rests against his shoulder. It feels like sunshine against my skin. “Can’t your mother take him?”

  He huffs a dry laugh. “Yeah right.”

  There’s more there but his eyes return to that place I can’t go.

  “Okay. What if I take him?”

  His attention shifts back to me. “You’ve never even met him. Hell, you barely know me.”

  “We’re naked in bed right now. I even know you in the biblical sense.”

  He grins and plants a quick kiss on my nose. “You also know that’s not what I mean.”

  “Okay, you’re right.” I sigh. “Your mom probably wouldn’t allow a stranger to take him anyway.”

  “My mom? Please, she wouldn’t even notice he’s gone.”

  Something crawls under my skin at the bitterness in his tone. The late hours. The mysterious commitments. This all-consuming concern that goes beyond fraternal duty. He’s raising his brother, isn’t he? It’s not just about protecting him from their stepfather; Jace is a father and probably has been for seven years.

  Emotion burns inside me as I study his Greek god physique. Guilt over how I lusted for a body when this beautiful soul was fighting inside.

  Resolve hits me. “What if you introduce me to him this week so I’m not a stranger for our beach trip?”

  He raises a brow, and I love that I surprised him.

  “Wait, you’re serious?” he asks, searching my face.

  “Very.”

  “You’d do that for me?” Stunning wide eyes turn up to me. I trace the ugly bruise tainting them.

  “I want to. I love the beach.”

  And that smile is currency. Debt paid. “Thank you, Sienna. I don’t even know what to say.”

  I reach over to steal another kiss. “Just tell me when I get to meet the little man.”

  Talk to me! Pleeeeeeease.

  I sigh and stare at the message on my phone. Number fourteen. Maybe I’ve punished Karen enough for doing to Jace exactly what I did.

  Instead of texting her back, I press call.

  “Sienna, thank god! Are you still pissed?”

  “No. And I’m sorry. I should have responded sooner.”

  “This guy means something to you, huh?”

  “Yeah, he does.”

  She quiets, and I don’t have to see her face to know what she’s thinking, all the warnings she’s hesitant to share with our fragile truce. I don’t need them and I sure as hell don’t want them. Got that covered, thanks.

  “Anyway, I’m free for lunch if you want to meet up,” I say.

  “I’d like that. Thai Palace?”

  I smile. “Sure.”

  I feel better after repairing things with Karen. Despite our differences, she is my best friend, and in a lot of ways, my only friend. After Joe left, our circle shrank to nothing with our married friends acting like divorce was contagious and our single friends not sure it was safe to pick a side. Joe was always the social one, so most of them were his conquests anyway. Karen was the one who stayed. If anything, she became a bigger presence in my life the worse things got for me. Fighting with her for extended lengths of time isn’t an option, and I’m not the type to hold a grudge. Besides, if things with Jace continue to heat up, they’ll have to meet at some point anyway, even if I dread his reaction to her overly enthusiastic adoration of men.

  By the time I greet Jace three hours earlier than usual, I’m nearly bursting with excitement to meet the most important person in his life. Somehow I’ve earned access to another piece of the puzzle that is Jace Beckett, and I can’t help but feel honored when the pair shows up at my door.

  “Hey,” he says, smile sweet and almost shy. My heart melts at the way he rests a protective hand on the shoulder of a miniature version of him.

  “You must be Aiden. I’m Sienna,” I say, crouching to be eye level. Which, let’s be honest, isn’t far. This kid is going to be tall like his big brother.

  “Hi, Miss Sienna. Can we come in? I’m starving.”

  “Aiden!” Jace ruffles the boy’s hair. “Sorry,” he says to me.

  “What? You said she’s making pizza.”

  I laugh. “I am. And it’s almost ready. Come in.”

  Jace mouths another apology, and I squeeze his arm as they pass.

  “I’m hoping you like pepperoni,” I say, leading them to the kitchen.

  “Love it!” Aiden confirms. I cast Jace a knowing wink, grateful for the advanced intel.

  “Good. You don’t like brownies though, right?” I ask as I peek into the oven to check the pizza.

  “Huh? Brownies are awesome!”

  “Oh, okay. My mistake. Good thing I saved some then.”

  Aiden grins, gaze locked on the homemade pizza I pull from the oven.

  “What would you like to drink? Water? Apple juice? Orange soda?”

  Aiden’s attention snaps to his brother. “Can I ha
ve soda? Pleeease, Jace?”

  He knits his brows. “Hmm. I don’t know.”

  “Please!”

  I fight to contain my smile as Jace lets out a dramatic sigh. “Okay. I guess so. But only one glass.”

  “Yeah! Orange soda, please,” the boy says to me.

  “Orange soda it is.” I place a slice of pizza in front of him. “Careful, it’s hot.” I glance at Jace. “You?”

  “No thanks. Not a huge fan of orange.”

  I scrunch my nose at him, and he chuckles. “Water would be great, thanks.”

  I retrieve both and join them at the table.

  “How is it?” I ask Aiden who’s already inhaled half his slice.

  “Good,” he mumbles through a mouthful of sauce and cheese.

  “Yeah?” I arch a brow at Jace.

  He nods through a bite as well. “Kid’s right. This is killer. You’re a good cook, Sienna Porter.”

  “Why, thank you.” I take a sip of my water, and we exchange a look that shoots lightning through me. I’m only Friend Sienna today with Aiden here, but every cell in my body wants to attack his older brother in an empty room. Jace’s gaze doesn’t help as it journeys down my neck and circles my curves. I need a distraction and rise to refill Aiden’s plate.

  “So, Aiden, Jace tells me you’re going into eleventh grade.”

  “No!” he snorts. “Third.”

  “Ohhh. Are you sure? Didn’t you say he was a junior?” I ask Jace.

  “Don’t let him fool you,” he says, and Aiden’s grin exposes a missing tooth or two.

  “I am! I want Mr. Kelly.”

  “Mr. Kelly, huh? What’s your favorite subject?” I ask him.

  “Gym.”

  I can’t help but smile when Jace smirks and shakes his head. “Gym must be fun,” I continue. “Do you play any sports?”

  “Just karate.”

  “Really?” I take my seat again. “I’ve always been interested in martial arts.”

  “You have?” Jace glances at me in surprise.

  “Yeah. You know, one of those things I didn’t realize until it was too late. Is it true you can take someone down with very little force?”

  “If you do it right,” he says.

  I study him closer. “Wait…”

  “I’m only an orange belt,” Aiden interrupts. “But one day I’ll be a Black Belt like Jace.”

  “You’re a Black Belt?” I ask.

  “Should I be offended you’re so surprised?” he teases.

  “Second degree. And my brother is testing for his third in a month, right Jace?”

  Jace shrugs.

  “Really? That’s amazing.” I study him with new fascination. “Show me something.”

  “What?” he laughs.

  “Take me down with one of those magic moves.”

  “Yeah, do it!” Aiden says.

  Jace smirks and reaches for his glass instead. “No way. Martial Arts is about self-defense. Respect, self-discipline, and responsibility. Not tackling defenseless ladies.”

  “Defenseless?” I let every ounce of my exaggerated offense spill onto my face.

  He cringes. “Sorry. That didn’t come out right.”

  “Careful there. Black belt or not, you don’t want to get on my bad side.”

  Jace leans back and crosses his arms. “Really. That’s some serious confidence there.”

  “Thought you liked confidence.”

  “I do.” His eyes dig into mine, and I have to swallow the sudden jolt of my heart. Damn, I want him alone right now. I attack my ice water instead, except now all I can see is this man’s powerful body moving with the rhythmic grace of martial arts. He must be magnificent in black belt form.

  “Come on, Jace. Spar with me then. Oh, we can show her the crossing wrist grab. Beginner stuff.”

  Beginner stuff. Concessions from an eight-year-old. I’m game if it means convincing Jace to play.

  “I don’t know,” he says.

  “What if she gets attacked by bad guys?”

  Aiden makes a great point.

  “Oh, yeah. I don’t like bad guys,” I agree, batting persuasive lashes at our resident superhero.

  His scowl remains, but I don’t miss the smile peeking through. “Fine. After dinner, though. You need to finish that slice, little man.”

  “Yes!” Aiden fist pumps the air. “He’s really good. He’s going to be a deshi soon.”

  “A deshi?”

  “Basically, an instructor,” Jace explains to me. “And I told you I’m not,” he says to his brother.

  “And then he’ll be a sensei after that.” I’m not convinced Aiden actually hears anything not already in his mind.

  Jace shakes his head with a smile. “The kid’s a dreamer.”

  “Because once he tests for sensei, he can teach all the time!”

  My gaze settles on Jace. “Really? You want to teach?”

  He sighs. “I told you, little dude, it’s not gonna happen. I have to help Louis fix houses right now.”

  “But you love teaching. You’re everyone’s favorite Sempai.”

  “You just worry about your Pinan Sono Ni. It was looking a little rough last night.”

  “It’s so hard though!”

  “That’s why you need to practice.”

  “My lotus kick was good,” Aiden grunts, focusing back on his pizza.

  “Okay, back up.” I say. “What the heck is a Peenin Soho what?”

  “Pinan Sono Ni,” Jace says.

  I continue staring at him until he weakens. “Okay, fine.” He pushes back from the table and crosses to the center of the kitchen where he launches into a series of movements that officially change my definition of hot.

  “Wow,” is all I manage when he finishes, bows, and returns to his chair.

  “Pinan Sono Ni.”

  ”He did two parts,” Aiden explains to me. ”I’m not good at the first one.”

  “You just need to practice.”

  “Wait, can you break boards and all that stuff?” I ask.

  Jace leans back in amusement. “What’s with the interrogation?”

  I feel the heat creep up my neck again, but I’m too invested now. “I told you. I’ve always been interested.”

  “So why don’t you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Karate.”

  “I’m thirty-eight.”

  “I’m aware.”

  I give him a mock glare; he doesn’t back down. “So, I’m supposed to train with eight-year-olds?”

  “We have adult classes.”

  My pulse picks up. Sienna Porter: martial artist?

  “I can’t.”

  His eyes narrow. “There’s that word again.”

  “Come on, this is different.”

  “Why?”

  “Because. It’s…” Sienna Porter: Black Belt.

  “What do you want?”

  Sienna Porter: guitar player.

  Nascent Dreamer.

  “Please, Miss Sienna?” I’d almost forgotten about Aiden. How do you say no to that face? Poor Jace.

  “It’s expensive right?” I ask, grasping.

  “Not too bad for beginners.”

  Jace shifts and pulls out his wallet. I scan the card he hands me.

  “Come and take a few classes. See if you like it.”

  So tempting. So… possible.

  “Give me a crash course first?”

  His lips tilt up in a sly smile. “Later. When we’re alone.”

  Chapter 0 – 5 = -5

  This can’t be right. No wonder they’re having cash flow issues. I’m working my way through a cluster of payables and receivables reports for The Sunset Bread Company who insist they’re saving a fortune from the contract with their flour supplier. I’m making a note to ask for full access to their books when the doorbell rings. Karen? Jace never comes before Aiden is safely in bed. I glance at the clock and grunt.

  My stomach drops when I spot the intruder through the
glass.

  “Joe. What are you doing here?”

  “Didn’t you get my message?”

  I stare at my ex, a sharp pain anchoring in my gut. And he brought friends.

  “Yeah. You said I should call you.”

  “Well you didn’t, and we can’t wait anymore. I need the dresser in the master bedroom.”

  “What?”

  “It was my grandfather’s. We agreed on that in the settlement. We need it for the baby’s room.”

  My gaze travels over his impatient expression, the awkward shuffling of his friends.

  I step back so they can enter. “Fine. I still have clothes in it though.”

  “No problem.” He moves over the threshold, and my brain flashes to the last time those boots crashed through the symbolic barrier. Hope, right? Promises. ‘Til death do you part. Why are you crying? This was over a long time ago, he’d said.

  “Is it still in the bedroom?” Joe asks now.

  I nod, and he pounds up the stairs with his crew.

  “If you give me ten minutes, I can—”

  “We got it,” he calls back.

  My foot slides off the bottom step back to the floor. It’s your house, Sienna.

  Not when he’s here. That pain starts snaking through my intestines, forcing me to cast a glance toward the powder room.

  Drawers rumble and slam from upstairs. Bang. Wooden gunshots. I flinch with each crash, biting my lip to keep from screaming a protest. Bang. Bang. My bedroom, a battlefield. Nausea twists through me.

  Too soon, strangers begin trudging back down the steps with the skeletal remains of my dresser. It took that bureau fourteen years to collect my clothes. Fourteen seconds to dismantle it.

  “Excuse us,” one guy says as he reaches the bottom.

  I step back so my home can be stripped by the man who broke it.

  “Anything else I forgot while I’m here?” Joe asks from the top of the stairs, balancing the back end of the empty frame in his hands. The weight inside me tightens into a knot.