“You need to eat.” I frowned. “Let me make us something.”
“I can help,” she said, pushing the covers back.
“No, sit,” I ordered.
“You’re so bossy,” she giggled.
“I am,” I nodded, leaving her to rest.
The only food that was in the house was lunchmeat and a few frozen dinners. I’d had my sponsor grab a few things for me before he dropped my car off at the airport. Unfortunately, I’d placed that call before Presley had agreed to come home with me.
I made a mental note for us to hit the grocery store the next day. In this town, my status was nothing. Most people left me alone and I enjoyed the privacy.
She walked into the kitchen and didn’t say anything about the scowl I directed at her for being off the couch. Her lips turned up into an innocent smile and my heart clenched at the sight. I wanted to learn everything about her. I needed to make her understand that I wanted her for more than just a casual fuck. There was something about her that made me want to be a better man.
“Are you feeling better?” I asked, hoping that her virus was on the mend, but that didn’t mean I was going to let her lift a finger over the break.
“I am,” she said, walking around the island to stand next to me. “This looks good.”
“Good thing I can cook,” I teased.
“This isn’t cooking,” she giggled. God, I wanted to kiss her again. Every time I heard that sound come from her mouth, I wanted to do all kinds of wicked things to her.
“Well, tomorrow we will go shopping, and then I will cook a proper meal for you,” I promised, leaning in to kiss her forehead, but a scowl on her face stopped me. “What?”
“I…I can’t cook,” she blushed.
“You can’t?” I laughed. “Mayo or mustard?”
“Both, please.” She smiled, peering around my shoulder at the sandwiches. “I never learned how to cook, but I can sure eat.”
“So can I, baby.” I winked, picking up the two plates to take to the small bistro table by the window. I used it more than the dining room table that was there more for show.
She gave me a look and I ignored her, picking up my sandwich. I was too busy watching her eat. She took small bites between looking out the windows at my backyard.
It was a simple house, the backyard was pretty scarce except for a hot tub and a grill. A table with four chairs was covered for the winter, but during the spring and summer, I spent a lot of time out there, usually writing music.
“That was amazing,” she said, a bit of color flooding her cheeks.
“Thank you.” I smiled, taking our plates to the sink. My hand went to her forehead and was pleased she wasn’t running a fever.
“I won’t break, Ace.”
“I still want you to get better before we head back out,” I said, pulling her to the living room. I found a movie on and we sat down to watch. As the movie began, Presley curled up beside me, resting her head against my chest. She grabbed the blanket to throw over her legs. I wanted to take her into my room and show her all the ways I could pleasure her, but I wasn’t going to do that now. I needed to show her that I didn’t want to just fuck her.
The movie was about…something. I didn’t remember because her hand was gliding up and down my thigh. The arm that I had wrapped around her shoulders slid down to rub her arm. She turned her face toward mine and I captured her lips with my own, relishing in her tenderness. My chest felt tight as my need for her increased. I had to pull away from her before I broke my promise to make her rest, but she wasn’t having that.
By the time the movie was over, she was practically in my lap. We’d been petting each other for about half an hour and my cock was straining for attention.
My body took over as I cupped her cheek, turning her face. My lips met hers and she let me take control, fucking her mouth. I couldn’t help it. Presley did that to me. Her scent drove me mad.
“I want you,” she admitted with a small sigh.
“You’re sick,” I reminded her.
“No, I’m not that sick. Stop with the kid gloves.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, standing up from the couch. “I didn’t mean that I didn’t want you. God, Presley, I want you more than you know, but I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”
“I don’t want a gentleman,” she growled, getting to her feet. Her hands were fisted at her sides and I could tell she was just as sexually frustrated as I was. “I want you and only you. I want all of you, Ace.”
“That’s a lot to ask for.” I grinned. When Presley’s tongue snaked out and licked the corner of her lips, I knew I was doomed.
My feet moved forward, my body connecting with hers. I kissed her solidly as I walked her backwards out of the living room and down the hallway. I kept my eyes open so we didn’t fall.
My room was lit by the small lamp on the nightstand. The weather was overcast, making the room look like it was near dusk even though it was only mid-afternoon. I released her hand and climbed in the bed, pulling her with me so we were facing each other. With both of us on our knees, I waited patiently for Presley to make the first move.
And I’d wait for an eternity for her.
If that was what she needed.
I’d wait.
Presley’s fingers cautiously touched my jaw, sending goose bumps across my skin. I loved the way she touched me. The softness of her fingers lightly traced my features. She reached further back and ran two fingers through the curls at the nape of my neck.
“I love your hair,” she cooed, repeating the action. My cock was on point with whatever she wanted to do. The fucking thing had a mind of its own and I wanted nothing more than to take over, sinking into her body.
Instead, I waited.
“I love the way you touch me,” I replied, turning my head so I could plant a kiss in her palm. She giggled and leaned forward, pressing her lips to my own. There was a sweetness to her that could be as addicting as the drugs I used to pump into my body. If this was my alternative, then I wanted every ounce of it.
There was also an innocence that scared me. I didn’t know what her previous relationships had been like, but I did know that no other man had harmed her in a way that would prevent her from being intimate with me. If that’d been the case, I didn’t know if I could contain my need to find the asshole and kill him with my bare hands. The fact that her father had burned any chance of this woman knowing affection out of her realm of knowledge sent me into a blinding fit of anger. I wanted to correct all the wrong that had been done to her.
“Ace,” she whispered, scooting closer. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close, absorbing her touch.
“Yeah?” I replied, my eyes locked on her lips. Her tiny tongue peeked out and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and I almost lost my mind right then and there.
“Make love to me,” she answered, her hand cupping my cock through my jeans.
Chapter 17
Presley
I lifted my shirt over my head, feeling my hair slide seductively down my bare back. I wanted him with every ounce of heated blood in my body. Reaching out, I grasped his own shirt, the cotton soft between my fingers. He didn’t move to help me as I pulled it over his head, dropping it to the floor somewhere off the side of the bed.
My fingers trailed slowly over his shoulders, down his pecs, and over those dark brown nipples I seemed to be so mesmerized by every time he removed his shirt on stage. My hands danced along his chest to the rhythm of a song only my mind produced and was for my ears only.
He sucked in a deep breath when I ran the tips of my fingers around the waistband of his jeans, stopping to flick open the button, but not touching the zipper. I needed to feel him… his heat… skin to skin. I wanted to know this was real, that it was ours. Our moment to be with each other for the first time. I savored every inch of him.
“You’re killing me,” he whispered, tucking his hand into my hair behind my ear. He made a tight fist,
yet the sting to my head wasn’t painful. In fact, I felt a rush of wetness between my legs when he groaned. He did that as a silent demand for me to look into his eyes.
“You are killing me,” I replied. “I want to touch you.”
“Babe, there is only so much I can handle when your hands are on me,” he replied, leaning in to capture my lips. He nipped at the bottom one, holding it between his teeth for longer than necessary. When he released the flesh, I felt the blood rush to the point, a flash of heat that made my tongue automatically snake out and lick his taste off my skin.
“More,” I begged.
“More?” he asked cautiously. On my nod, he leaned in. Both of his hands cupped my face tenderly, his lips pressing against mine. My mind waged a war between the softness of his touch and the foreign feeling of affection. This was not something I was accustomed to, but it only took me a few moments to relax into him, letting his mouth glide over my own. His taste was surreal. I needed to breathe him in. If he took his hands from me, I was sure I would crumble.
“Touch me,” I whispered as soon as he released my lips so that we both could breathe. Ace rested his forehead against mine, our eyes locked. He studied me for a moment. One hand slid from my face, cupping the back of my neck and pulling me to his lips for another kiss. His hand did not stay in place, it slid over my shoulder, resting beside my breast. I wanted him to go slow, go fast…do something. The ache between my thighs had become a pulsing pain and I needed relief.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, leaning back to look at my lace covered breasts. His thumb rolled over my nipple as I moved my body closer to him. The sensations were almost too much, but I wanted it. There was no doubt in my mind that I needed his touch.
As a way of response, my hand tangled in his hair, pulling his lips to mine. Something overcame me and I leaned in, nipping his bottom lip just as he’d done mine. His breath came out harsh as his thumb left my nipple and his hand snaked around my back to unhook my bra. The straps were pulled from my arms. Cool air washed over my breasts and it helped ease the fire, but only for a moment.
“I’m going to touch you, Presley,” he growled, pushing me backwards, my legs automatically righting themselves so that I was flat on my back. “All of you.”
“Please,” I begged. “I need you, Ace.”
“Don’t ever beg me,” he replied, unsnapping my jeans and pulling them from my body. His face pressed against the soft flesh of my belly. He kissed a path down to the waistband of my panties, the black lace the only barrier between us. “You smell like heaven.”
I should’ve been embarrassed, but I wasn’t. His erotic words sent my hips upward. I wanted him exactly where he wanted to be. We were on the same page with our need.
My patience was wearing thin. I needed him inside me, on me…touching me. I reached for the waistband of his jeans, but he stopped my hand, pushing them high above my head.
“Don’t move them,” he ordered as he hooked his fingers in my panties. Hands pushed at the inside of my knees in a silent demand to open. I let my knees fall to the side, exposing my most intimate area to the man who’d taken so much care with me since the first time he touched me.
“Beautiful,” he extolled. The first pass of his tongue was hot and my hips bucked, but I did not move my hands. As bad as I wanted to tangle my hands in his hair, I did as I was told.
“God, you’re delicious,” he purred, taking another pass with his tongue. My clit was sucked and I felt the tingles of awareness that had laid dormant inside me come to life. That little flicker of feeling…of need. In that moment, I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t going to shy away from his affection.
One finger traced my opening and I pushed forward, accepting his touch inside me. Another press of his hand and the intensity doubled. I needed to come, but I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want this feeling to ever stop.
“Give it to me, Presley,” he said, laying the flat of his tongue on my clit, circling it almost to the point of pain. “Come for me, baby.”
His words, the sensations…his tongue sent me spiraling over the edge. My voice carried through the room as I called out his name on a heated curse, begging for more. More…I needed more of him.
“Shh,” he cooed, crawling up between my legs. He leaned over my shoulder and opened the side table drawer, a foil packet now in his hand. He made quick work of sheathing himself and, within seconds, his body molded over mine. I actually felt safe in his arms as they caged me beneath his body. His eyes held a spark that I found fascinating. If he’d let me, I would’ve stared into them for eternity.
My hips relaxed as I felt his length at my opening. Ace’s lips and tongue found mine as he pushed his length inside, my body accepting him as if he’d been made to fit perfectly. The pressure was exquisite. With each shallow thrust inside me, I felt my heart open to him. I’d never felt this before and with each passing second, I knew that one time with him wouldn’t be enough.
Ace huffed out a breath as he rotated his hips, stilling until my body adjusted to his intrusion. His hips flexed, testing me. I could feel another orgasm building inside and I urged him to move by lifting my hips. A strangled moan tore from his throat as he closed his eyes tightly.
“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he growled.
I finally gave up holding my hands away and grabbed his face and hair, pulling him back to my lips as I rotated my hips upward, meeting him thrust for thrust. I groaned, feeling the stirrings increase. I exploded, bucking my hips and taking every powerful thrust he delivered. He cursed as I felt his cock swell slightly, his body giving up and releasing his pleasure.
He rolled to the side and removed the condom, tying off the end and dropping it on the floor. The next second, I was pulled into his arms. One hand on my face sent my eyes fluttering closed. He leaned in and kissed each eye.
“I like it when you hold me like that,” I admitted, my breathing finally evening out.
“Then I will make sure I do it every time I want your lips on mine,” he whispered, pulling me back for another kiss that lasted for quite a long while. “Shower?”
“Yes, please.” I smiled, letting him pull me from the bed. He scooped up the condom and flushed it in the toilet before turning on the shower.
Ace’s back was to me as his hand tested the water. I froze when I saw the marks on his back in the light. I’d seen the faint scars from the stage, but with all of the colored lights, it didn’t register just how bad his surgeries had left reminders. Just above the top of his left buttock was a scar that had to be four or five inches long, and another scar about three inches long was just above that. I remembered him said that he’d had two back surgeries after his accident.
“Does it still hurt?” I asked, running my finger alongside the scar. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I needed to see his scars. Mine were bad, but nothing like his.
“Occasionally,” he said, turning toward me. We were both still naked, but I didn’t care. He’d already seen me at my most intimate. “If I don’t do the exercises I need, then it gets bad.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, stepping up to mold my body to his. Ace didn’t speak as he pulled me into the shower, letting the water hit his back. Once he deemed it the correct temperature, he turned us to the side, the water cascading over our bodies.
“I want to see yours,” he whispered. “I want to know everything about you.”
“My shoulder blade,” I said, pulling my wet hair over my shoulder to cover my breast. I turned and let him touch the scar.
“How did it happen?” he asked.
“He kicked me while I was unconscious,” I answered plainly, trying not to bring up the memories. I could do this without crying, but Ace’s tenderness was killing me and I was glad that the water from the shower blended in with the few tears that escaped my eyes. “I woke up in a puddle of my own blood. They wouldn’t even take me to get stitches.”
“I don’t know how you survived,” he said, kissing the sca
r. “You are so strong.”
“Somedays, I can let it go,” I explained. “Other days, when they call or message me, it takes me back.”
“You need to change your number,” he growled, reaching for the soap. He lathered up his hands and didn’t ask any more questions.
As soon as his warm hands began to massage my shoulders and his thumb brushed over the scar on my shoulder blade, I closed my eyes and let the sensations take over. I shivered as his hand moved toward my neck. He brushed my wet hair over my left shoulder, exposing the scar at my hairline. I felt tears prick the back of my eyes when he kissed the spot tenderly.
“I will never let your body see another scar,” he promised, turning me so that I could face him. “You are mine, Presley.”
“I want to be yours, Ace,” I admitted. In that moment, I knew I would never find another man who cared for me as Grant “Ace” Ryker did. He’d taken such good care of me since the night we arrived at the venue for our first show opening for Fatal Cross. Every moment from that point on, he’d watched me from afar, stepping in when I needed him the most. He never pried for information unless it was needed. He didn’t even flirt with me in the beginning. Somehow, somewhere, a bond had been forged between us and I opened up, allowing him to see the real me… the real Presley Pittman.
I took the soap from him and made a path over his lean body. He groaned as I traced his abs, running my fingers over the dips and valleys slowly, memorizing every inch of his body. The softness under my hands warmed as I continued my exploration, my eyes following the trail of soap as it trickled down his chest. A bubble caught on his dark brown nipple and I used my thumb to remove it.
“Your touch drives me crazy,” he growled, capturing my lips with his own. His hardness pressed into my stomach as he pulled me tight against his chest. My leg automatically raised, hooking over his hip. I rubbed my sex against him, silently begging for him to take me again.
I needed to feel him connected with me. Having Ace embrace me with his strength was one of the best feelings I’d ever experienced in my life. The thought of affection didn’t scare me as much as it used to and I was going to absorb every ounce of his touch over the next few days.
Fatal Temptations (Fatal Cross Live! Book 2) Page 11