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Wicked White

Page 12

by Michelle A. Valentine


  She laughs and shimmies her hips against mine, and her grin widens as she feels my semierect cock pushing against her through my jeans. “Trust me. You’re plenty man enough.” Iris pauses for a beat and finds the knob behind her and twists. “Let’s see what you’re so afraid of me seeing.”

  Without another word she flings open the door and steps through its threshold backward. I hold my breath as she spins on her heel and takes in the sight of my sanctuary.

  “Wow . . .” she says with a breathy voice. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were a Shakespeare addict.”

  I lean against the doorjamb as she wanders into my room to inspect things more closely. All of my walls are exactly as I left them, covered in posters for plays William Shakespeare wrote. The nightstand beside my bed is still stacked with a pile of books, most of which matched Mom’s collection downstairs. I think she bought me copies because she got tired of me borrowing hers all the time.

  My eyes follow Iris as she stops at what I like to call my reward wall. Mom was so proud of me every time I got recognition of some kind. It was hard to talk her out of displaying them all and persuade her to put up only the most important ones, like my high school diploma, along with my valedictorian letter and my bachelor’s degree from Ohio State.

  “A degree in philosophy. Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Iris turns to me and quirks an eyebrow. “You’re kind of like a genius, huh?”

  I laugh. “I don’t know about a genius . . . well educated, yes.”

  She finishes inspecting my room and runs her fingers along my dresser before she flips through the stack of CDs sitting there. “How did you get into music?”

  I walk over next to her and turn around to rest my hands behind me as I lean against the dresser. “Mom bought me an old guitar at a yard sale. I, of course, taught myself how to play and to read music, and while I’m definitely no Shakespeare, I’ve found I’m pretty good at writing lyrics.”

  She wraps her hands around my waist. “A self-taught man . . . I like it.” Iris presses her lips to mine and then frowns. “So, after seeing all this . . . it doesn’t explain how you were able to fight so well. A guy like you, book smart, isn’t typically quick with his fists like you were with Jeremy that day.”

  I frown. “Unfortunately, when you’re an unconventional man like me, it attracts the kinds of guys who like to assert their dominance over someone they perceive to be weak. It was unlucky for them that I knew how to fight. I wasn’t the mousy little nerd they expected when they messed with me. I had no problem fighting back, because using my fists to protect myself was the only thing I’d ever known. Of course, that was before Mom showed me there was another way to live without fighting constantly. I think for the longest time all the counselors had it in my file that I was a kicker.”

  I chuckle at that last thought, but stop when Iris’s beautiful lips turn down into a deep frown. I pull on the hem of her shirt. Her eyes begin to fill with tears, and I slide my finger under her chin and tip it up so I can gaze into her eyes. “Hey, don’t be sad for me. I turned out okay.”

  A tear slips down her cheek. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. Was it horrible living with your real mother before you went into the foster system?”

  I sigh. “It wasn’t pleasant, but at the time I didn’t know there was any other way to live, so I was unaware of exactly how bad it was. When the state came to take me away, I didn’t want to go with them. I fought every counselor, every foster family, teacher . . . anyone who I thought at the time was keeping me from being with my real mom. It wasn’t until Sarah came into my life that things got better and I wanted to change myself.”

  “I used to feel that way about my mom too. It wasn’t until I found out she was dead that I really gave up hope of her ever wanting me back, because obviously, by then, that dream was dead just like she was. I can’t imagine what my life would’ve been like if I didn’t have Gran . . .” Iris shakes her head and then wraps her hands around my neck and twirls the hair at my nape around her fingers. “I’m glad you had Sarah. I would’ve loved to have met her.”

  I hug her tighter against my chest. “She would’ve loved you.”

  The mention of the word love causes her eyes to snap in my direction, and a strange intensity flows between us. It’s crazy to even entertain the idea of loving Iris so soon, but I know deep down that this is exactly what I’m feeling. It’s almost as if our story emulates some of the greatest love stories in history. The tales of two people who barely know one another, yet have such a strong connection that their passion is unfathomable to outsiders.

  I just can’t bring myself to tell Iris that this is what I’m feeling just yet. If she finds out I love her so intensely this soon, it may scare her off.

  With a regretful sigh, I pull back a bit. “I think it’s time we get that contract and head back before it starts to get late. It’s too risky to stay here much longer. Camera crews could be anywhere, and we don’t want to push our luck.”

  She reluctantly nods and drops her hands from around my neck, seemingly deflated that I didn’t capitalize on the romantic moment we just shared. “You’re right.”

  It kills me to disappoint her. I know we’re already in this deep together, and it probably wouldn’t totally shock her if I told her everything I’m feeling, but I just don’t want to continue moving our relationship so fast for fear it’ll stop at any moment.

  IRIS

  It’s been nearly a week since we were at Ace’s childhood home, and I swear we shared a moment when we were wrapped up in one another’s arms in his bedroom. I nearly told him I loved him in that moment, but thought better of it immediately because I don’t want him thinking I’m saying that merely because I know who he is. When I tell him that I love him, I want him to know that I mean it with each inch of my beating heart.

  I stare up at his face while his chest rises and falls in a rhythmic pattern as he sleeps soundly next to me in my bed. His face is stunning with his chiseled, strong jawline and full lips that seem to have a resting pout to them even when he’s relaxed, and his prominent nose completes the features any male model would be envious of. His crazy, wild hair is even sexy when he sleeps. I’m constantly tempted to slide it through my fingers.

  Ever since the first night we made love, we’ve spent every night together—each night being even more magical than the last, making me fall for him a little more. I’ve been saying a little prayer every night that he’s never found and can stay here with me just like this forever, but deep down I know that’s not reality, and it scares the shit out of me.

  I don’t want him to leave, and the thought of me leaving with him—it excites and terrifies me at the same time. I’m not sure if I’m cut out for a life on the run, and more importantly, I’m not ready to give up on my dreams that have already been put on hold. I’ll have to return to New York at some point—with or without Ace.

  I refuse to be that girl who gets so swept up in a man that she tosses everything aside for him, losing her dreams and identity. That’s not me.

  Ace stirs below me, and I know he’s in the process of waking.

  I place a soft kiss on his lips as our naked bodies remain pressed together. “Good morning. Hungry?”

  “Starving,” he whispers and pulls my face back up to his, letting me know that he’s not just talking about food here.

  He shifts and pulls me on top of him, where he cups my ass as he deepens our kiss.

  This man is insatiable.

  I bring my legs down around his hips and press my knees into the mattress below us, careful to keep his stiff cock outside of my body.

  He moans when I rotate my hips a couple times, sliding him against my slick folds and enjoying the feel of his skin against my most sensitive body part.

  “God . . . Iris,” he growls.

  I love when I make the normally collected Ace go a little caveman. It seems that I have this ability to make him lose his control . . . and I like that . . . a lot.


  The calluses from playing the guitar make his hands a little rough, but I love the way they feel sliding up the bare skin of my back when he’s enjoying my body.

  The friction of the tip of him hitting my clit over and over causes me to moan this time and then whisper, “I need you.”

  He turns to my nightstand and grabs the box of condoms. A frown immediately etches into his perfect features, and I stop writhing against him, sitting up. “Are we out?”

  Ace’s lips pull into a tight line. “Yeah. We went through that box really fast. I planned on getting more today because I knew we were getting low.”

  I sigh, deflated, but still completely turned on, and I know he is as well because his hard length is still pressing into me. “I’m on birth control . . . and we are exclusive . . . right?”

  I allow my thought to trail off, not wanting to seem so forward with my request.

  Ace traces my lips with his long fingers. “Are you sure . . . ? We don’t have to. I can wait.”

  I kiss his fingers and nod. “I’m yours, right? And you’re mine?”

  “Irrevocably, on both accounts,” he answers. “But I want you to be sure. I don’t want you to make a rash decision because you’re horny.”

  I smile down at him. “If we belong to one another, I don’t see how this would be a rash decision.”

  He’s quiet for a beat, and knowing now how intelligent Ace is, I’m sure he’s contemplating every scenario before giving in to me. “You’re right, but I want you to know that I’ve never done this before. You’ll be my first. Have you . . . ?”

  I shake my head. “Never. I always made Tanner use protection. I guess I never trusted him.” I peer into his eyes as a revelation occurs to me. “But I trust you, implicitly.”

  Ace licks his lips like he’s suddenly nervous. “So you’ve only ever been with Tanner?”

  “Yes,” I answer honestly, and my face reddens at the admission that I’ve only ever been with one man in my twenty-two years.

  But that’s got me curious, and I can’t help myself from asking the question that nags at every woman when she thinks about her man and his sexual history. “How many people have you been with?”

  His eyes drift away from my face, and my heart drops, knowing more than likely that means it’s going to be a number that I don’t want to hear from a man whose unprotected penis I’m about to let inside me.

  “Ace . . . ?” Even I can hear the worry in my voice while I await his answer.

  His gaze flicks back to mine. “It’s hopefully not as bad as you’re thinking, but it’s a number that I’m not proud of . . . it’s a number that happened before I made a commitment to myself that I was worth loving and that someday I would find a woman who loved me.”

  I swallow hard. “Do I really want to know? Is it that bad?”

  He shrugs. “The feeling that emulated love was something I was addicted to for a while. I found it easily in the arms of random women who wanted to use me for sex. Psychologists would probably say I used women to fill the void I felt when my mother gave me away. And in a weird way, I’m sure that’s partly true, but I know that I was smart enough to figure out that that wasn’t love I was feeling. It was a way to temporarily forget that I was once unloved and so easily discarded. So, once I figured that out in my early twenties, after attending a few psych classes, I stopped randomly fooling around.”

  I furrow my brow. “So before me . . . ?”

  “I haven’t had sex in a while,” he admits. “Sure, there were times I slipped back into my old ways, but for the most part I’ve been pretty good at abstaining.”

  My mouth drops open. I’m completely floored by this news, and honestly, I can’t wrap my head around it. “You mean you don’t sleep with random groupies on a daily basis?”

  Ace shakes his head. “No. Not even close.”

  “Wow . . . I thought all rock stars slept with their groupies every chance they got.”

  He gives me a half smile. “Not all of us.”

  “Apparently,” I tease. “The association of rock stars may revoke your membership card if this ever gets out.”

  “I don’t care.” He laughs. “Let them. I’m through with that life, anyhow. I’ve got all I need being here with you. I could give a shit about the music industry at this point. I’ll get a job somewhere, anywhere you want to live, and I’ll use my musical talents to serenade you.”

  I lean down and press my lips to his. “I could get used to being serenaded. You’re going to spoil me and ruin me for all other men. No one will ever be able to live up to you.”

  Ace grins. “Good, I don’t want any other man to have a chance in hell. Besides, I don’t plan on ever leaving you.”

  Warmth floods my heart. Hearing him say that he’s never going to leave me is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. It makes me crave him that much more.

  “Make love to me,” I whisper. “I want to be yours in every possible way.”

  That’s all the permission he needs and he rolls me over, pressing his weight on top of me. His hand slides over the mound of my breast, over my collarbone and against my neck until his thick fingers thread into my hair. Kisses from his sensual lips follow, setting my skin on fire as he finds his way to my mouth.

  When his tongue darts out and traces the entrance of my mouth, I open, giving him full access. I spread my legs wider, squirming below him with anticipation, needing to feel him inside of me, moving with nothing between us.

  With one swift movement, Ace buries himself deep inside me. His eyes burn with fiery passion as he pulls back and then rocks into me again.

  He groans as he leans down next to my ear and whispers, “Jesus. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

  A shudder rips through me as I close my eyes and revel in the pure romanticism in his voice. Those words—those sweet, sweet words wrapping around my heart, making me feel so loved and so wanted—are nearly enough to make me admit to Ace just how I feel about him.

  Strong arms slip under me and wrap around my shoulders as he continues his deliciously slow, rhythmic pace. Each thrust causes my core to burn with even more need for this man.

  I reach behind him and grab his muscular ass in my hands, loving the way each muscle moves as he continues to please me. “Oh, Ace. That’s it.”

  He rises up, still working himself into me. “Don’t come yet. The sounds you make will send me over the edge, and I’m nowhere near done with you. I want to make this last. You feel . . . God, Iris. You feel fucking amazing.” He leans down and whispers against my mouth, “It’s like your body was made just for me.”

  A tremble rushes through me, and I know he asked me to wait, but there’s no way of stopping the impending orgasm that’s about to spread through me.

  I dig my nails into his backside. “Oh, God. Ace. I’m coming. I can’t stop . . . ohhhh.”

  His rhythm picks up speed, and he pounds into me much harder and much faster than he was before, intensifying my pleasure before his movements go rigid and he closes his eyes and growls as he comes hard inside me.

  When he opens his eyes and simply gazes at me with a look that can only be explained as pure awe, like I’m the most amazing thing he’s ever seen, I can no longer fight it. I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m wholeheartedly in love with Ace Johnson, but I’m scared to tell him.

  Later that afternoon, when Ace and I can find the strength to pull ourselves away from my bed, I walk him to the door while he pulls his shirt over his head.

  When I open the front door for him, he pulls me into his tight embrace and kisses me. “Would it be weird if I say I miss you every minute that we’re not together?”

  I laugh and shake my head. “No, because I feel exactly the same way.” I giggle as he kisses my neck, but then playfully push him back. “Go shower before I change my mind and drag you back to my room.”

  He waggles his eyebrows. “That’s definitely not a threat.”

  I push him back once more and laugh. “G
o.”

  As Ace heads down my front steps, he buttons and zips his jeans. My face instantly reddens when I notice Tanner’s car parked in front of my place, knowing he’s seen us and the way Ace is still practically getting dressed while walking out my front door.

  Ace passes by the car just as Tanner opens the driver’s door and gets out. He gives Ace a curt nod, and Ace instantly stops in his tracks and whips back around to stare at me with an expression that clearly asks if I need him to stay.

  I shake my head, and he pulls his lips into a tight line as if he doesn’t like my answer, but he obliges by heading around the corner to his own place.

  Tanner pulls a pair of dark sunglasses off his face as he approaches me. He’s not in a suit today, but in a more relaxed outfit of jeans and a light blue button-down. The dark hair on his head is styled back, making the cool blue tone of his eyes stand out more.

  He’s attractive, but he’s a sleazy asshole.

  Tanner glances back in the direction Ace just went and then raises one eyebrow as he turns back to stare up at me. “I guess you weren’t kidding when you said you’ve moved on.”

  I fold my arms over my chest and suddenly regret not throwing a bra on as I dressed in a tank top and pair of shorts to walk Ace out. “What do you want, Tanner?”

  He sighs as he rests his hand on the wooden railing of my porch. “Can’t I come in?”

  I shake my head. “No. We can talk just fine out here.”

  His shoulders slump a bit. Guys like Tanner Lawrence aren’t used to hearing the word no too often. “I wanted to stop by and let you know that I explained your situation to my higher-ups and was able to get you a thirty-day extension, which means you have two months from now to get the money together to pay the taxes before the state moves forward with seizing the trailer park. It was the best I could do.”

  “Why would you do that?” I ask, but I’m grateful that he did. I’ve been here only a month and I never had any intention of staying long-term. I wanted to get back to my life in New York as soon as I could, but this extension changes a situation that I thought was impossible to fix to one I might have a long shot at fixing if I get a job quickly. I was nearly ready to give up on Willow Acres since there was no way I could come up with twenty thousand dollars in thirty days.

 

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