Before the End (Beyond Series Ultimate Glom Edition)

by Kit Rocha

  Rachel shook her head and turned in the woman's arms. Wanting and not having had somehow become normal, an unbreakable habit that seemed to define her life now. She wasn't the sum total of her experiences but her desires.

  But she couldn't explain it to Noelle. If the words even existed, they wouldn't come, and Rachel was left staring at her in frustration.

  It didn't matter. Lex pressed closer to her back with a warm laugh. "We've got this, don't we, baby girl?"

  "Oh yeah." Noelle swayed closer, brushing her lips over Rachel's in the softest kiss. "Do you trust us?"

  "You know I do." It was herself she didn't trust. How far she'd go if those last walls fell. If she'd beg. "But I--"

  "Just watch them." Lex turned her head with a hand on her jaw.

  She couldn't not. Ace and Cruz filled her vision the same way they filled her thoughts, edging out every damn thing until nothing else existed.

  Cruz met her eyes, held them. There was a wild sort of hunger there, an intensity that had seemed closer to the surface lately. It only brightened as a soft touch brushed the edge of Rachel's bodice. The tiny straps holding it up gave way under someone's fingers--Noelle's or Lex's, she couldn't tear her gaze from Cruz's to be sure.

  It was Noelle's tongue that swiped across her newly bared breast. Noelle's mouth that closed around her nipple.

  Rachel bit her lip, but she couldn't stop her shiver of arousal, the way her skin tightened at the wet heat. And she didn't want to, because she was tired of being locked up, even when she let go.

  "You can have anyone you want." Lex's voice vibrated against her ear, and her hand drifted from Rachel's hip to her bare upper thigh. "You don't need them."

  "Mmm." Noelle licked a path to her opposite nipple and teased it with quick flicks of her tongue before smiling against Rachel's skin.

  She could feel good if she wanted. And holy shit, she wanted. The whole room was fuzzy already, a jumble of aching lust and mounting pleasure. Cruz was still watching, his eyes on Rachel, and she could feel that resistance slipping, see it in the way he shifted his body, a restless reaction in a man usually so controlled.

  Then she made the mistake of looking at Ace, and the lazy pleasure winding through her cooled. A frown played around the edges of his mouth, as if he didn't like what he was seeing, not even a little--

  Noelle slid up Rachel's body and turned her face with a gentle hand on her cheek. "Ace has to make his choice," she murmured, stroking Rachel's lips. "He doesn't get to lock you away from pleasure because he's all tangled up. You're made for joy."

  There was a smart answer to that, a defiant, strong one, but Rachel's head was spinning too hard for her to think of it. She'd assumed both men had the same problem--that opening their fragile new relationship to include her was risky, dangerous--but the truth was exhilarating, horrifying. Tragic.

  Cruz wanted her, and Ace didn't want to want her.

  She opened her mouth, and Noelle's thumb edged between her lips. Moaning her approval, Lex eased her hand higher, under Rachel's skirt and panties, between her thighs.

  Hazy pleasure gave way to liquid desire, wet and hot and centered on Lex's fingers. Rachel arched, her answering moan muffled by the pressure of the pad of Noelle's thumb pressing down on her tongue.

  "Her fingers feel good, don't they?" Noelle traced her tongue around Rachel's ear. "Sometimes Jas and Dallas pin me down so Lex can see how much I can take."

  Lex was unabashed in her pursuit of sexual ecstasy. Sometimes, Rachel wished she could lick that abandon off of her, like sweat off her golden skin.

  "Rachel?"

  Speech was impossible, so Rachel tilted her mouth over Noelle's in a rough kiss. This was all that mattered anyway, not words but action. Intimacy.

  "Naughty kitten." Dallas's voice rumbled over the three of them as Noelle's mouth vanished. Dallas had a hand twisted in her hair, and he was grinning at Lex. "You trying to get her in trouble with Jas, love?"

  "If he wants her mouth for himself, he should come and get it," Lex shot back. "It's a lesson quite a few of the men around here could stand to fucking learn."

  "Mmm." Dallas stroked the thumb of his free hand over Rachel's cheek. "Lex loves to put Noelle's tongue all over pretty people. No wonder she couldn't resist."

  Dallas held Noelle's hair in a tight grip, as nonchalantly as he would have held a door for her, and a spark of jealousy arced through Rachel. Of course he'd assume she hadn't started it all. Everyone saw her as the shy good girl, and months of dancing at the Broken Circle hadn't changed that. Maybe nothing ever would.

  She reached up and traced the cleavage bared by the plunging neckline of Noelle's gauzy white dress. "Maybe we're just killing time until Jasper gets back."

  "I'm sure you are." He tugged on Noelle's hair, urging her toward the couch. "Why don't you come kill time all over me, if Lex can bear to take her fingers out of you for two seconds?"

  "Doubtful," Lex growled, but she pulled her hand out of Rachel's panties with a whispered, enigmatic promise. "Soon, honey." Then she followed him.

  The couch on the dais was Dallas's place of honor, the closest thing he had to a throne. From it, he would command everything--the music, the alcohol, even the more carnal revelries. Rachel could follow, insinuate herself into the midst of what would soon undoubtedly be a tangle of naked limbs.

  She'd been invited. They wanted her there, wanted her happy and sated.

  But they didn't crave her.

  She shivered, pulled the top of her dress back into place, and turned for the door, only to find Cruz blocking her path.

  He was wearing a tight white T-shirt that molded to his frame, emphasizing every muscle beneath the supple fabric, and faded jeans that did the same damn thing. Rachel stared at him, struggling for words. But the only ones that sprang to mind were the three she vaguely remembered whispering on the roof.

  I miss you.

  Her throat ached. She took a half step back to keep from reaching for him, cursed herself for her lack of control, and ducked past him in a rush.

  The halls outside Dallas's rooms were dark, and she welcomed it. There was no one here to see her misery, no one with good intentions who would try to drag her back to the party, make her smile.

  Two corners. One more, and she'd be home free.

  "And here I figured you'd be riding Lex's tongue by now. Or maybe Noelle's. Probably both."

  Oh God. "Ace."

  He was propped next to an open window, a cigarette dangling from his fingers and his face hidden by shadows. "Don't tell me Lex let you go easy."

  "I wasn't in the mood." It was all too true lately. "If you hurry, I'm sure you can catch up."

  He took a long drag and leaned forward to ash out the window, giving her a glimpse of a serious expression. "Maybe I'm not in the mood, either."

  "I'll believe that when I see it." She took his cigarette--because she could, and because he'd taken so many things from her. "What do you care if I spend the night fucking my way through that whole room?"

  "Do you really want to know?" he asked, his voice dry. "Or will you keep on not believing my answers?"

  She'd trusted him with the truth once, but they'd been back and forth and up and down too many times now for words like truth to mean anything. "Honestly? I think you never say anything real to me unless I'm crying."

  He plucked the cigarette back out of her hand and crushed it against the wall. "Here's a freebie, no tears required. Loving the hell out of sex doesn't mean you're always in the mood. Even when you have a cock."

  A little sliver of the real Ace, and Rachel hated herself for clinging to it so fiercely. "Then why do you spend so damn much time trying to convince everyone it's all you give a shit about?"

  "Maybe that's just all you want to see." The cigarette butt went out the window, which squeaked loudly as he dragged it shut. "I care about art. I care about keeping the whores safe and their pimps honest. I care about the gang and everyone in it. I care about how much I make yo
u cry."

  "But you don't know how to stop." Second verse, same as the first.

  He sighed and closed his eyes. "We spark, angel. We spark so bright, and I always thought I'd woo you nice and slow and you'd adore me. But you only ever see the worst in me, and there's so much worst to see."

  She'd wanted the truth, but there was too much of it now. It stripped her bare, left her shaking, and she couldn't stop the flood of words. "I loved you, Ace, from the very beginning. But you kept pushing me away. Nothing I did seemed to matter, and now I don't know if anything ever can, because it's all too fucked up."

  His lips twitched. "Yeah. It's easy to love me in the very beginning. Prolonged exposure usually fixes that."

  "That's not what I said." She turned away from his sad, self-mocking smile. "God, you're such an asshole."

  "I never meant to push you away." He caught her arm, his fingers loose, as if he was afraid of hurting her. "But maybe I let you go too easy."

  If she let him, he'd pull her in, whether out of desire or comfort, or even something he couldn't begin to express. And they'd be right back where they started, unable to have the simplest conversations without misunderstandings and hurt feelings.

  Rachel looked down at his fingers, then met his gaze. "If you can let someone go at all, you probably should, right?"

  "Is that why you went after Cruz?"

  Maybe she was finally starting to get Ace's morbid sense of humor, because she had to laugh. "Went after him? Fuck you, okay? Cruz showed up, and I wasn't expecting him, but you know what? I care about him, and I don't regret that for a goddamn second."

  He flinched. Just that, a tiny reaction, but it was as real as the pain in his eyes. "Because it was easy to let me go."

  "No." If she'd been able to let go of Ace, things with Cruz could have turned out differently. "Because I never had you in the first place. Whatever you were looking for, it wasn't me."

  Ace's gaze roamed her face, as if he was trying to unlock a puzzle. "If I had fucked you that night, would things be different?"

  She stiffened. They didn't talk about that night. It seemed like years ago--Noelle had been new, Lex had still been avoiding taking those last few steps with Dallas.

  Everything had been so fucking simple.

  She'd danced with Ace, a dance that had turned into more--his hands on her body, then on her bare skin beneath her clothes. She shuddered just thinking about it, the slow build of lust that had rumbled between them like a thunderstorm, implacable and unstoppable--

  Except he'd done exactly that. Gotten her off and stopped, left her standing alone in the middle of the room, flushed and dizzy and confused.

  He was still staring at her, so she licked her numb lips and shrugged. "I doubt it. I'm not big on pity fucks."

  "Pity?" Ace took a step forward. So precise again, close enough that she could feel the heat of him, but not quite trapping her, even though his voice had dropped to something low and dangerous. "You inspire a lot of things in me, angel, but pity? Not in a thousand damn years."

  "Whatever." She turned and tried to edge past him.

  He pressed a hand against the wall, barring her path with one tattooed arm. "Damn it, Rachel, don't run away."

  A hysterical laugh fought its way free of her aching throat. "This is perfect. Fucking priceless."

  His other hand slapped against the wall, and now she was trapped. Penned in on all sides, and he lowered his face until it was inches from hers. "You can knee me in the balls and spend the rest of your life hating me if you want, but not until you hear this. I didn't walk away from you. I ran, because sometimes you scare the hell out of me. And then I turned around, and you'd gone and found yourself a fucking hero."

  It was the last thing she expected to hear, and she blinked up at him stupidly. "What the hell are you talking about? What did I ask you for that was so terrifying?"

  "Not what I had to give," he whispered, holding her gaze. "What I had to be. Worthy. Of you and everything you offer. You're fucking fearless."

  "Fearless?" she echoed. "Then why do I feel like such a fucking coward all the time? Why can't I stand in front of you and stop letting you run?"

  He shifted one hand to smooth over her hair, tracing the lock down to where it curled against her bare shoulder. "Watching someone run doesn't make you a coward. Letting them come back makes you too brave for your own damn good."

  "Brave or crazy." The ache spread to her chest, and she tried--and failed--to look away from those dark, dark eyes. "But I'm done, Ace."

  His fingers followed her shoulder to the curve of her neck, fingertips ghosting over her skin like a whisper. "Maybe you're not seeing the worst in me. Maybe I fucked up so bad I made you see shadows in yourself that weren't there."

  "What does that even mean?" She pressed her palms against his chest, but instead of pushing him away, her fingers clenched in his shirt. "That you made me feel like shit? I could have told you that a long time ago."

  His thumb came to rest over her pulse, stroking back and forth. "I made you feel unwanted."

  The way he said it, like it was some kind of guilty revelation, made her face burn. "No. You broke my fucking heart."

  His thumb froze. Pain twisted his features until he bit off a curse and closed his eyes. "Jesus Christ, Rachel. I'm not worth that."

  "Shut up," she whispered thickly. Her head throbbed already, the only part of her that hurt worse than her heart. "Don't you dare say that. Don't run yourself down, and don't call me stupid on top of everything else."

  Groaning, he pressed his forehead to the wall next to her head. "No wonder we're tied in so many knots. You think I know what to do with a woman's heart? That's not the part they want my hands on, angel."

  She couldn't stand there and justify her ill-advised feelings, especially with him looming over her, so warm and so close. "Let me go, Ace."

  His breath shivered over her ear as he turned his head. Not far, just enough for his groan to fall against her cheek. "I can't."

  "You have to."

  "I tried." His fingers slid into her hair, tangling in the strands. "The only thing I haven't tried is taking you."

  In that moment, she felt so, so weak, because she wanted him to, even if it left her shattered beyond repair this time. "I'm tired of fighting. I'm just tired."

  He lifted his head, tilting hers back until she was staring up at him. A stolen moment, wrapped together in shadows, and he whispered as if he didn't want his words to carry to the world beyond. "I know, Rae. I know."

  The nickname shivered through her, a reminder of a time when she'd harbored hope along with her need for him, and she relaxed her hands, let go of his shirt--and slid her arms around his neck. The inches separating their lips became one inch, then a fraction of that.

  So close to touching. So close to more. "Tell me to stop," he said, "and I will."

  The breath she was holding tore free on a whimper. "Don't."

  His hand drifted up, settled around her neck with his thumb pressed against her skittering pulse. A menacing touch, just like the fingers still twisted in her hair, but his tongue flicked lightly across her lower lip, a playful prelude that turned taunting when he didn't close the final distance between them.

  "Ace." The word shook because Rachel did. She tried to close the gap herself, to taste him, but he held her tight for what seemed like forever.

  Then he kissed her.

  She only had a heartbeat to process the softness of the caress, the gentle pressure of his lips on hers, the slow exploration, because the sparks were there. They jolted through her, bringing every sense to life, and Ace groaned and pushed her against the wall, his mouth slanting over hers, his tongue venturing into her mouth.

  Yes.

  Too much buildup, too much expectation and yearning that reality couldn't possibly survive--except that it did. Kissing Ace was every bit as good as her feverish fantasies. Better, because she'd never imagined that he'd tremble under her hands, or that he'd kiss her like
her breath was life and he'd never survive without it.

  She clung to him, her heart pounding, her senses alive. He tasted like cigarettes and bourbon, and she drank in the heat of him along with the soft noise he made when she slicked her tongue over his.

  He tilted his head, luring her deeper into his mouth only to toy with her, closing his teeth lightly on the tip her tongue. His own made lewdly suggestive circles, slow and lazy and so hungry she could feel the need along every inch of their bodies even though his hands stayed carefully above her shoulders.

  What the hell was she doing?

  Lightheaded, she broke the kiss and dragged in a rough breath. "Stop."

  Ace lifted his head, breathing every bit as heavily. "Christ, you taste sweet."

  She swallowed a moan. Only a crazy woman would do this, open herself again right after his blatant warning. You think I know what to do with a woman's heart? "We have to stop."

  "Stop." He shuddered, his eyes dark. "I can still feel you on my tongue. It's taking everything in me not to slide to my knees and see where else I can lick you. Damn near everywhere, in this dress. It's nothing but leather straps and sass."

  "Why do you think I wore it to Dallas's party?" She'd been planning on forgetting everything else, if only for a little while. "Turns out, I'm not as fearless as you think."

  The hand at her throat drifted lower, tracing the edge of one strap where it circled her waist. "Bullshit. Everything about this is brave. You're halfway to tied up and so damn strong."

  She didn't feel strong, not even when she braced her hands on his chest again and pushed this time. "I didn't wear it for you," she lied.

  Ace let his hand fall away. "If you wore it for Cruz, you should try ribbons and silk next time. Leather and chains are my thing."

  Oh God. Cruz, who'd stumbled into the middle of this whole mess, who'd never been anything but careful, gentle. It wasn't fair, that she was so reckless, clueless, standing in the dark hall in Ace's arms. But she'd lost track of who they were hurting, because pain was all she knew anymore.

  Pain and anger. Ace had to bring him up, had to remind her that none of his pretty words mattered, because any way she turned, someone's heart would break. Rachel gritted her teeth against a wave of guilt and anguish, but it only built higher with every passing heartbeat.