I push up on my elbows completely, disbelieving how our wonderfully heated moment has turned foul so quickly. Turning his back to me, Ace storms for the bedroom, but I stalk after him, a heavy frown creasing my forehead. Before I can speak, he whirls around, gripping my shoulders tight. His nostrils flare, his eyes dark and livid. “Leave. Him,” he demands again, voice dark.
“I can’t, Ace. It’s not that simple.”
He pulls away, upper lip twitching again. “Why the hell not?” I start to speak, but I’m not given the chance because he continues. “I don’t like knowing that motherfucker touches you. I don’t like knowing he’s near you. I don’t like him. Period.”
“He’s a good guy,” I whisper.
“He’s not me.” His voice is heated. A near growl. I stare up at him. He’s right. He’s not Ace. He’s the complete opposite. “My son won’t grow up thinking another man is his father. I won’t fucking have it.”
He steps back, dropping his line of sight, and my heart aches. I step forward, gripping the tops of his shoulders. He breathes hard and heavy, grimacing at the wall across from him and purposely avoiding my eyes. “It won’t be that way. Just give me some time.”
“Time for what, London?” He looks at me again. “I’m here for you. What the hell are we waiting for?” My arms go limp. I start to lose my hold on him. Noticing my withdrawal, he seizes my wrists before my hands can completely fall, and I gasp, looking from the large tan hands locked around my arms to his eyes.
“How do I know you’re here to stay? You promised me, but turned right around and lied straight to my face that same night.”
He doesn’t speak. Instead, he yanks me forward, studying my face. I pant as one of his hands runs down my waist, then back up to the back of my neck. He slants my head back, making sure my eyes stick with his. Leaning in, his lips touching the shell of my ear, he whispers, “I will never lie to you again. No need.” The pit of my belly blazes. Heat travels to my sex. Why is it that, every time he speaks, I always get worked up? “You’re right about this not being New York,” he tells me. “I know that. That’s why I didn’t go back.”
“So what is this then?”
“This is real, London. This is you and me. I love you. I need you in my life. This isn’t some made up fairytale shit I’ve been holding onto. This is fucking real. We,” he breathes, slowly dropping to his knees before me, “…are real.” His hands glide up my legs, rounding back to my ass. He squeezes my plump cheeks in hand, pulling me closer, his mouth near my anxious pussy.
“Ace,” I whisper, shutting my eyes, breathless.
“I know you care about him, but you don’t love him like you love me. And let’s face it,” he mocks, placing a kiss on my pelvis and then my inner thighs, teasing. Delicious heat bombards me. “He can’t please you like I can. He can’t fuck you like I can. He isn’t me. He isn’t the one you fantasize about. I am. I’m a witness.” His voice purrs and vibrates between my legs as he spreads them apart.
And then it hits me. “Are you serious? You were watching me last night?!”
His eyes travel up, no response beyond a subtle smirk on his lips.
My cheeks burn from embarrassment, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. That explains the pearls this morning. He saw me… masturbating to the thought of him. The satisfied smile I held onto while I fell asleep.
Oh, God.
“Hold still, baby,” Ace murmurs. “You were teasing yourself last night, trying to get rid of the thought of me. Right now, I’m gonna make you cum like my life depends on it. I’m gonna have you thinking about it for days.” Ace’s hot tongue runs between my folds, and a sharp gasp spews out of me. He squeezes my ass again, growling, creating a vibrating sensation that makes my legs tremble.
I breathe hard, running my hand across the top of his head. His cropped, curly hair gets entangled in my fingers, and I clutch it, getting a deep groan out of him and a spank on the ass. He’s so fucking good. This tongue, this magical tongue that can make me cum at any given moment, is the best I’ve ever had.
It takes care of me.
It provides.
It is perfection.
Ace sucks on my clit, and as I glance down. He buries himself deeper between my wet folds, grumbling and growling, spanking my ass again. I quiver, eyes rolling, legs shaky. He holds onto me, and within seconds, he pushes to a complete stand, wrapping my thighs around his neck. I can’t believe this… this position is one I’ve never tried before. On his shoulders, glued to his face as he eats me like fine dining.
A wet puff of breath along with a hushed slurping sound fills the bedroom. My back hits the nearest wall, and Ace squeezes and pulls, bringing my lower half closer, eating me just like he said—like his life depends on it. My thighs fasten around his shoulders, my fingers combing through his hair. I helplessly grind against his master tongue, back arching, pussy throbbing until, finally, I explode.
“Oh, fuck, Ace! Shit! Shit! Shit!” My profanity is unrestricted. I cum so hard my eyes cross.
Oh. My. Goodness.
Holy shit.
Best. Orgasm. Ever.
As my body dies down, shuddering in the process, Ace pulls back, his lips glistening. He looks up at me and kisses the insides of my thighs as I catch my breath. Then, he lowers me, plants me on my feet, grabs my chin with gentle force, and kisses me roughly. His tongue sweeps my mouth, and I taste a trace of myself.
Then, he says something that makes me crave even more. Running a hand between my slick lips and cradling one side of my face in his hand, he says, “Your pussy, London, is mine. It always will be. He won’t do the things I do to you. He thinks you’re too broken, but me…” He shakes his head, revealing that beautifully crooked white smile. “Well, you know me. I know you’re strong enough to handle anything I do to your body. I know exactly what this sweet pussy is capable of. I know what you are capable of.” He picks up the pearls resting around my neck, and his smile stretches. “We’ll be using this soon.”
I bite a grin, pleased to see the exhilaration swirling in his eyes. He’s glad to see the pearls. Glad to see me here. Glad I stopped by.
Glad because this means we actually might have a chance.
Thinking Out Loud – Ed Sheeran
The wind picks up as I clutch London’s hand in mine. The sun is setting, our day moving way too fast. I tighten my grip around her waist and inhale the salty air, relishing in the bliss.
I can’t believe how much I’ve missed her. I thought, for sure, I was overreacting to this feeling—being without her for so long—but I realize I wasn’t. I meant what I told her earlier. This is real, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. We’re picking things up right where they left off, with a few annoying obstacles in the way.
Obstacles like that bitch Greg.
Picking up her vibrating cellphone, London curses beneath her breath before adjusting in my lap and turning her head to look at me. Her eyes depress as she lowers the phone, ignoring the call. I know that look. I hate it.
“I should get back home,” she whispers.
“He can wait.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “This is his third time calling, Ace. He’ll get worried. He’s a cop for goodness sakes. He’ll send someone to look for me if I don’t respond. I always respond.”
“Where’d you tell him you’d be?” I ask.
“Yoga class,” she sighs, standing from my lap. “But that was this morning. Hours ago. I should’ve been back home by now.” I laugh at the thought of it, and she narrows her eyes at me, forehead scrunching in a frown. “What’s funny?”
“Yoga class,” I repeat. “Funny considering I bent you every which way less than thirty minutes ago.” Her cheeks turn a light shade of red, and she bites a smile, stepping back and pressing her lower back against the balcony rail as she stares at her feet. Standing from my seat, I step forward and lift her head so her eyes meet mine. “Don’t want you to go.”
Our eyes lock. She whispers sadly, �
�I have to.”
“You don’t understand how much I’ve missed you.”
She lifts her hand to stroke my cheek. “I missed you too, Ace. More than you know.” Her eyes glaze over before she snatches them away and stares at the rippling sea. The last thing I want to do is make her cry.
I tighten my grip around her face. “You know I love you, right?”
She nods.
“I would do anything for you, Red. But this… this you’ll have to end on your own. I understand him stepping in to help. Frankly, I can’t blame him for that. To be honest, as much as I hate admitting it, I appreciate it.”
She looks up at me, her face relaxing but her eyes still filled with guilt. “Why?”
I release her, folding my arms. “From what I can tell, he’s good to Aden. Good to you. Probably a better man than I ever was to you.”
“No.” Her head shakes swiftly, and she grabs my upper arms, staring me in the eyes. “He is not you, Ace.” Blinking, she releases me and steps back, swallowing hard. “I… I don’t know. I’ll talk to him, I swear. I just need time to think about how I’ll break it to him. I can’t just dump it. It would be really fucked up on my behalf.”
I nod, stepping closer. Bringing my hand up, I run the pad of my thumb across the corner of her mouth. Her lips move beneath my finger. I lean in closer, limiting proximity. Her breathing is shallow now, her body still. “Say you’re mine.”
Her lips remain sealed. My jaw flexes, and I pull her in closer, cupping the back of her neck. She gasps, bright hazel eyes meeting mine. “Ace,” she breathes.
I cut her off, tipping my head down to kiss her. It’s not rough or soft. It’s an in between kiss.
Deep.
Raw.
Passionate.
Something I never thought I’d be capable of, but she brings so fucking much out of me. My tongue dances with hers, our bodies gluing together, setting sun absorbing us.
After so many years, how does she still manage to feel fresh and new to me? Her skin is like satin, her hair like silk. Her lips like velvet. Her heart made of pure gold. Everything I need in a woman.
My cock strains anxiously against my shorts, throbbing—begging to sink inside her tight, perfect pussy again. I should stop and let her go, but I can’t. And when she cups my balls outside my shorts, moans, and then digs beneath them to grip my hardened flesh, I know I can’t let her go without another round.
Grunting, I snatch my lips away and yank down the yoga pants she changed into. Her lips part as she reaches for my shorts, tugging them down with haste. Picking her up by the waist, I lock my arms around her, and her legs wrap around me.
Heavy, breathy moans run past my ear as her back hits the balcony wall. Lips locked, I lift her up and slide my cock into her eager pussy. “Goddamn, Red,” I groan against her lips. She’s so tight. So fucking wet for me.
I pump hard, stroke relentlessly. She cries my name, her nails digging into my shoulders, her head falling back and landing on the wall. I tangle my fingers in her hair, yanking with an edge of roughness. She starts to gasp again, but I interrupt, crushing her lips.
I fuck her like it’ll be my last time because, who knows, it may just be my last time. She might not come back, and I wouldn’t blame her. Today was a perfect fucking day, but at home, there are more peaceful things that await.
Our son.
The other man she claims to sincerely care about.
I want to get rid of him, go through with the selfish acts I used to do while running Crow, but I know I can’t. If something were to happen to him, she would never forgive me, so I have to let her settle it.
My only question: will she? Will she let him go for me? Will she drop everything and run away with me. Me, her, and our son? I’m not sure she’d do that for me. So much shit has changed. She deserves better. She deserves someone who doesn’t have the nagging in his head to go back to New York. She deserves someone who is free of the bullshit. I’m tainted—rotten inside—and I know she deserves a pure soul.
She needs someone safe.
I’m not safe to be around.
As long as I’m alive I never will be.
That’s why I need to hear her say it. I need her to tell me. “Say you’re mine,” I demand again, easing in and out of her, gripping her ass snug in my hands. My teeth sink into her bottom lip, and a warm wave runs over my cock. I stiffen, on the edge of release. Her eyes shut. She holds on tighter, on the verge of a climax.
She breathes my name, building me up, forcing it out of me.
My body locks up, and my cock stills inside her, a guttural noise escaping me. I cum hard and quick, and it feels too fucking good. My forehead drops on her chest, and she pants, placing a hand on the back of my head and kissing the top of it.
After catching our breath, she finally whispers, “I’m yours, Ace.”
I look up, and she smiles.
My heart races, and I want to say a million and one things, but I don’t. I’ve gotten what I want out of her.
She’s mine.
Mine forever.
She’ll do the right thing. I know it.
***
London leaves ten minutes later.
When she does, I feel empty as hell. My girl, going to another man. I fucking hate this shit. I don’t want to think about it, but I don’t want her out of my head either.
Looking towards the table, I spot my phone, and the urge consumes me. I stand and pick it up, wanting so badly to get to the bottom of this. I was betrayed, but by whom? I was kidnapped and beaten, and someone gave that order but who the hell could it be?
I’m not in New York. I promised I wouldn’t go back, but it doesn’t mean that I can’t figure out who it was. I grab the small composition book off the counter and flip through the pages, searching for a number. Stella Baker, my former lawyer. As much as I can’t stand the nosey bitch, she’d know pretty much everything about my case. When I come across it, I pause, clutching my phone in hand.
“Fuck,” I sigh, hesitating on dialing. I should just do like Maurice did. Forget about the past. Forget about the business and focus on a clear future. Get out while I’m still breathing.
Damn. Unfortunately, that’s not who I am. I’m fucked up in the head. I still don’t know why I’m alive. I hate unanswered questions. I hate feeling weak. I hate feeling like I’ve lost. I owe it to my men to figure out what went down. They died in my honor. I will never forget that.
But it can’t be right now.
Sighing, I shut the notebook and pick up my phone. After hitting the call button, I press the receiver to my ear.
“What’s up, man?” Maurice answers, his voice loud. There’s music in the background.
“Busy?” I ask.
“Not at all. Just got to the bar on Monterrey.”
I run my fingers through my hair, glad to hear he’s out and about. I could use the same treatment. “I’ll meet you there. I need a fucking drink.”
He laughs. “I’ll be sure to save you a seat.”
***
I arrive at the bar in twenty minutes. From the door, I spot Maurice in faded jeans, a brown V-neck, and a fresh trim sitting at the end of the counter, laughing with the male bartender about the soccer game playing on the screen above.
Friendly Italian motherfucker. I’m not sure how he can be. His childhood is similar to mine. An abusive father. Sick mother. Running a big business and wanting badly to set it free—to get away and start fresh.
I walk towards him and pull out the empty barstool to his right. “Ayyy!” he cheers, clapping my shoulder with a wide grin. “You actually showed up.” I nod, and he looks at the bartender. “Give my man here a glass of Henny on the rocks. Man needs a hard drink!” He releases my shoulder but not before giving it a quick shake.
The bartender hands me my drink, and I take a quick sip before asking, “What made you want to come out and drink? Cousin bugging you?”
He laughs after taking a swig of his beer. “Nah, she’
s busy. She’s working with her assistant on an upcoming project. It has to be done before she heads to Belgium. I told her I would leave. Apparently, I’m a distraction,” he chuckles.
“I bet. She’s always felt something for you.”
He shrugs. “Felt something for her ever since I first laid eyes on her. Remember when we were seventeen and we went to that kickback?”
I smirk. “How could I forget that?”
“She was so fucking wasted. You got tired of babysitting and handed her off to me.”
“And I told you if you put your hands on her I would break ‘em off.” We laugh out loud, catching the attention of a few lone drinkers.
“Man, it was so fucking hard not to. She kept teasing me too, trying to get me to touch her and take her panties off. Luckily, she passed out. Not even gonna lie,” he says, lifting his bottle and grinning, “I didn’t want to stop her.”
“Why did you?”
“Ehh… you’re like a brother to me. I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t jeopardize our friendship.”
I nod. “And look at you two now. Probably fucking like jackrabbits.”
“A real man never kisses and tells, my brother.” He takes a gulp of his Corona. “Kinda fucking weird talking about it with you now that I’m thinking about it.”
I shrug. “It is what it is.”
It grows quiet between us for a mere moment. I lift my glass to my lips and finish it off before summoning the bartender for another. When I adjust in my seat, I feel Maurice’s bright brown gaze on me. I don’t look. “Hate when people stare,” I mutter.
“I’m just a little worried about you, man.”
“Don’t be.”
“You’re sure you’re alright?”
I try my hardest not to grit my teeth. “Fine.”
He sighs, placing his empty bottle down. “I just… it’s fucking crazy, the shit they did to you, man. I’m still trying to figure out who it could’ve been. You worked with so many people…”
“Yeah, I know.” The list of suspects is endless.
Maurice snaps his fingers, eyes expanding as he turns fully in my direction. “Oh shit!” he shouts. “I bet it was that motherfucker Peter.” He slams a fist on the bar as if he’s right on point.
Beware 2: The Comeback Page 11