by Mia Brown
She shook her head. “Don’t go there,” she said.
I knew that she’d had a crush on me for the longest time. But it was time to push her in the right direction.
“No, I want you to be happy,” I said. “And you deserve a good guy. And you know, I have really high standards.”
Andrew and Lance both snorted at that. I glanced at Vanessa, who was grinning at me. Maybe I was making a fool of myself. I was past caring.
“So, I think you need yourself a good man. Someone that will see the goodness in you and who will make you feel as special as you are.”
I took Alana by the elbow and gently guided her toward Andrew. My brother suddenly looked bewildered, and Alana looked at me in confusion.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Pushing you in the right direction. Literally.”
I looked at Andrew, who looked like he was going to faint. He didn’t know where to look or what to do. I glared at him, motioning toward Alana with my head. Andrew took a deep breath and downed the half of his beer that was left in the bottle before he put his hand behind Alana’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss.
I was just as surprised that Andrew had had the balls to do that as Alana was. We were all frozen in silence for a moment before Lance, Vanessa, and I cheered. This was what Alana and Andrew needed.
When they broke the kiss, Alana was blushing, and Andrew looked damn pleased with himself.
“I have no idea what that was,” she said. Andrew opened his mouth to say something, but Alana lifted a hand to silence him. “But I liked it,” she added. Andrew’s features flooded with relief, and I looked at Vanessa.
She was smiling ear to ear. She was the one that had pointed out Andrew’s infatuation with Alana, and since then, I’d noticed she was right. Andrew really did like Alana. And judging by the way Alana was reacting, she wasn’t going to shut Andrew down. All I wanted was for Alana to give my brother a chance. The rest would work out the way it should.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” I said, “It’s my turn.” I walked to Vanessa and grabbed her, swinging her around. She squealed and laughed. I put my arm behind her back and dipped her before I kissed her. The others cheered, but all I could think of was that I held the world’s most beautiful woman in my arms.
When I swung her back up and planted her on her feet, she sighed.
“You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet,” she said. Everyone laughed.
We ordered more drinks. Alana only took one, as she was driving, but there was no stopping the rest of us. We had more shots and more alcohol, and we sang. We sang the songs we knew best, songs that reminded us of Jaclyn, the most popular songs, songs that everyone hated. Our little group was on the stage more than anyone else, and even though we screeched, drunk and off-tune, we had a ball of a time. And everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, too.
By the time the bar closed, and we were the last people left, we were merrily drunk and enjoying life. A night that could have ended badly, remembering my mom and how much we missed her, had turned out wonderfully with a lot of fun and happy memories instead. Andrew and Alana were all over each other.
“Don’t you think they’re cute together?” I asked Vanessa.
“I do,” she said. “And what’s even cuter is that Andrew got the courage because of alcohol, but Alana is doing all of this stone cold sober.”
“It sounds a little bit like me and you that first night, doesn’t it?” I asked. I winked at Vanessa. We were hanging on each other, and she nodded, giggling.
“I was so nervous about having slept with you.”
“Well, the upside is that you’re great in bed even when you’re sober.”
Vanessa laughed. “How nice to know you weren’t too drunk to remember that.”
I shook my head. “Sweetheart, nothing could make me forget that.”
Vanessa giggled again, and she blushed. God, she was a catch. She was so hot when she blushed, when she was shy, when she was drunk, and when she was assertive. She was beautiful all around.
We walked to the truck together.
“Oh, man, I got some killer photos,” Lance said, studying his phone. The phone cast a blue light on his face. I walked to him and looked over his shoulder. He flicked through his photos—photos of Andrew and Alana kissing, of Vanessa and me kissing, of me making faces, of Andrew and Lance hanging on each other, photos of me making a fool of myself on stage. “You guys are going to regret this in the morning.”
“I regret that one now,” I said, pointing at one where I looked drunker than drunk. Lance laughed and pulled the phone away from me.
“We’re not deleting any of these,” he said.
“Fine,” I said. “Nothing to lose, right?”
We laughed. Alana and Andrew were at the truck, leaning against it and making out again.
“Do you think it was a good move putting those two together?” Vanessa asked, watching them with folded arms.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because we might have to pry them loose with a crowbar if we want to get out of here before dawn.”
I laughed and shook my head. I took off my shoe and threw it at Andrew, hitting him on his side. It broke the kiss with Alana, and he swore at me.
“We want to go home,” I said.
Alana rolled her eyes at me, but she and Andrew got into the truck. She had to help him, he was that drunk, but they managed.
“Come on,” I said to Vanessa. “Look at this.”
I got into the flatbed and lay on my back. I beckoned to her, and she did the same, with Lance clambering on and lying on the other side of her. We looked up, and stars were everywhere.
“This is beautiful,” Vanessa said as the truck pulled out of the parking spot. The wind whipped around us, but we were huddled together, looking at the stars that stretched across the sky like pinpricks of light.
I didn’t know if I’d dozed off, but when I opened my eyes again, we were parked in front of the house back at the ranch. Vanessa and Lance were getting off the truck and Andrew was trying to convince Alana to stay the night, so she didn’t have to drive home in the dark.
Lance headed to the bunkhouse. I grabbed Vanessa by the hand and pulled her with me, walking into the house.
“We shouldn’t,” Vanessa said, but she didn’t fight me.
In the room, I pulled her against me and kissed her. My head spun. I groped Vanessa, tugging at her clothes but I couldn’t even think straight.
“Come lie with me,” I said. “Just for now. I’m too drunk.”
She nodded. “I agree,” she said.
We lay down on my bed. I pulled her against me, and she put her head on my shoulder, pressing the length of her body against mine. I closed my eyes, the warmth of her body seeping through my clothes and making me feel like everything was going to be okay.
Twenty-Eight
Vanessa
The night was restless. Ace knocked me in his sleep from time to time and when I opened my eyes, the room spun around me. The alcohol was still wreaking havoc in my system. Ace was asleep next to me, but he wasn’t peaceful. It was like he was fighting something in his sleep.
The alcohol pulled me under every time I woke up, though. When I woke up again from another push, it was much later, and the alcohol had worked itself out of my system enough that my mind was clear. I turned my head to Ace, who was still fast asleep. He lay on his back, his eyes closed but his mouth was moving. He was mumbling something.
I leaned closer, putting my ear near his lips to hear what he was saying.
“Mom,” he said. “Just a little longer.”
I couldn’t catch most of it, but he said that repeatedly and it was hard to miss.
“Ace,” I said, nudging his shoulder. “Wake up. You’re dreaming.”
He shook his head. “Just a little longer,” he said. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Ace,” I said again. “It’s just a dream. You’re sleeping. It’s a
nightmare.”
It had to be that he was begging his mom to stay. I understood that he still struggled with her death; we all did. We had gotten that drunk for a reason. But I didn’t want him to be stuck in a world that repeated himself, a world that he couldn’t escape. I wanted him to wake up. But I couldn’t get him to.
I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. The ranch house was quiet except for a light snoring that came from Andrew’s room. I wondered if Alana was in there with him. Had he managed to convince her to stay the night the way he’d wanted? Or had she gone to the bunkhouse instead of sleeping in Andrew’s room?
I didn’t check. Instead, I went to the bathroom and drank some water before going back to Ace’s room. I got into bed with him, pulling the covers around my body and turning to him. I watched him in the near-dark. He was still restless, shaking his head, his lips moving.
“Where are you?” he asked.
He was still having nightmares. I shook his shoulder a bit harder than before. Ace rolled to me, lying on his side. His face was only inches from mine, so close that if he were awake, I would have kissed him. But he wasn’t awake.
“You’re dreaming, Ace,” I said. “It’s a nightmare.”
Ace sighed in his sleep and seemed to calm down, as if he’d heard me.
I lifted my hand and traced his contours with my fingertips—the square jaw, the straight nose, the strong brows. His skin was thick and rough under my hands where his stubble was growing, and he sighed.
“I love you,” he said. I froze, my fingers fractions away from the skin on his cheek. “I don’t want you to go.”
I didn’t know what to do or what to say. I suddenly felt like I was burning up, my blood boiling beneath my skin. But he wasn’t talking to me, I told myself. He was talking in his sleep. He was probably still talking to his mom.
He didn’t love me, not that way. I had to get over that idea because even though we slept together, Ace hadn’t once led me to believe it could become more. I couldn’t think along those lines no matter how much I wanted to.
Ace was drunk. He was dreaming about his mom and whatever he was saying, it was aimed at her and not at me. God, how I wished that wasn’t the case, but there it was. I had to let it go, get over it, brush it off. It mattered as little as everything else he said while he was asleep. When people talked in their sleep, it meant nothing.
I didn’t try to wake him up, again. Not yet. I wanted to hear if there was something else he would say, something that would tell me what he was thinking. A small part of me hoped that it was real, that he would say something that would prove it to me. But that wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t get my hopes up. He wasn’t dreaming about me, and that was the end of it.
When I nudged his shoulder again, Ace opened his eyes. He looked confused and lost for a moment before his eyes focused on me, orbs of black in the near-dark of the room.
“You’re still here,” he said.
“Where else would I be?” I asked. “You brought me with you.”
He lifted his hand and put it on my cheek. He looked like he wanted to say something. I willed it to be something intense and dramatic. I willed it to be what I wanted to hear.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved closer to me and pressed his lips tentatively to mine, as if it was a question. Well, the answer was yes.
I kissed him back. It was careful at first, almost questioning, but I put my arm around his neck and Ace took his cue from there. He pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine, and he kissed me like he meant it.
He put his arms around me, and I smiled against his mouth.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“What I wanted to do last night but was too drunk to accomplish.” He pushed his hard cock against my crotch, grinding himself against me through the jeans we had both fallen asleep in. “I’m much better now.”
“I can feel that,” I said.
Ace chuckled. “Besides, we’ll be doing each other a favor getting out of these clothes. It’s really all for a good cause, you know.”
“Is that so?” I asked.
He nodded. His hands moved to my breasts, and he cupped one, kissing me again. He massaged my breast, running his thumb over my nipple. I wanted Ace—wasn’t sure if there would ever be a time that I didn’t want him. I had given up trying to fight it after the last time we’d done it.
Ace pulled my shirt over my head and unclasped my bra in quick succession, and I was topless. He had gotten rid of his shirt before we went to bed, and his skin was smooth and hot on mine when he pulled me tightly against him.
He rolled me onto my back and lay half on top of me, working his way down with his mouth on the skin of my neck, the skin of my chest, my breast. He took my nipple into his mouth and sucked on it. I gasped, my hand in his hair. I arched my back, pushing my breasts up. I wanted more.
Ace was still moving his hips against mine, working me into a frenzy through my jeans. After a while, he moved to my other breast, and I gasped and moved my hands down over his muscular back to his perfectly sculpted ass. There wasn’t a lot of pressure on a man to have a good ass, but God, Ace won hands down. His ass was firm from years of hard work, and it was perfect—not flat like some guys, or big like a woman’s. It was delicious.
I pushed my hands into his jeans and curled my fingers, gently digging my nails into his skin. He groaned around the nipple in his mouth, and I moved my hips in response.
When he lifted his hips, letting me go for a moment, I undid the button and zipper, and we worked together to get his pants down.
“I can’t be without pants and you’re still dressed; that’s not fair,” he said.
“I’m not completely dressed,” I pointed out.
“You’re too dressed for my liking.”
Ace kicked off his own jeans and boxers and got rid of my jeans and underwear, too. We were both naked, now. I liked being naked with Ace. He kissed me on my stomach, heading down south, but I shook my head and pushed him off me.
“It’s my turn,” I whispered. Ace nodded and lay on his back. I straddled his legs and ran my hands down his hips. He shivered. His cock was hard and thick, laying on his lower stomach. I leaned down and started kissing the skin all around him—his stomach, his hips, his thighs and back up. I teased him, touching every inch of him except the length of him that he desperately wanted me to touch. He groaned, writhing on the bed.
When I took the head of his cock deep into my mouth without warning, Ace gasped, curling his hips toward me. I wrapped my fingers around the base of his hard cock and twisted them back and forth. I worked my way down his shaft with my mouth, taking the length of him into my mouth before sliding him out again, lubricating him. I pumped my head up and down, fucking him with my mouth, and he shuddered and gasped and curled on the bed. He reached for my head and pushed his fingers into my hair.
“Enough,” he said in a hoarse whisper. I stopped sucking him off and looked at him with big, innocent eyes. “You’re driving me mad.” He swallowed hard and lifted a little to reach my breast. “I want to be inside of you.”
I nodded and crawled up his body, straddling his hips and positioning myself over his cock. I guided him toward my entrance with my hand and sat down on his dick, moaning as he slid into me.
When I sat down on him with his cock buried as deep as he would go within me, I closed my eyes and shivered. I would never get used to his size and the feel of him inside me.
My pussy stretched around his cock, and I felt him so deep inside of me. I loved being on top of him because it left me in control. I bounced up and down on his cock a little bit and then leaned forward, causing him to slide out of me. I left the tip of his cock inside of me.
“Tease.” He said and nibbled my ear.
I bit my lip and slid myself back down on top of him. His cock sliding all the way deep inside of me.
Ace put his hands on my hips, and I started moving, rocking back and forth. I slid him in and
out of me, riding him. I bucked my hips faster and faster, riding him hard. My clit rubbed against his pubic bone, and the friction built an orgasm in my core. I rocked harder and faster, focusing on the heat that built inside me until I tipped over the edge. My walls contracted, clamping down on Ace’s cock, and I curled forward, riding out the orgasm. I whimpered in Ace’s ear as I came, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me to him.
Ace started bucking his hips, fucking me from beneath while I was rendered useless on top of him. I moaned in his ear, trying to keep it down as he hammered into me, pumping harder and harder. I was sensitive now, tighter than before, and the sex was amazing.
After a while, Ace slowed down before he stopped. He rolled over, still inside me, and we nearly fell off his bed. I giggled.
“That was close,” he said.
“I’m close,” I answered, not talking about the edge of the bed.
He looked at me, a grin on his face.
“I guess we’ll have to push for another one, then.”
He promptly started bucking his hips, pumping into me. I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the sensation. Sex with Ace was incredible. I never knew where we stood afterward, never knew what our relationship was when we were done, but while we were doing the dirty, I was happier than anything and in a state of sexual bliss.
I came again. We switched positions, and I came another time. It was like it was Ace’s special gift to make me orgasm whenever he wanted to. No man had pushed me over the edge as many times and as intensely as he did.
Ace pulled out of me, and we shifted positions again so that I was on my hands and knees, and he pushed into me from behind. He was so big, and I was so tight, so sensitive. I gasped when he pushed into me, and he started fucking me again, leaning over and grabbing one of my breasts as he did. He tugged at my nipple before he let go of my breast and moved his hand to my hair. He grabbed a handful—enough that it didn’t hurt, but I felt it—and pulled back gently so that my back arched and he was in control. He fucked me harder and harder, pounding into me. The sound of our sex filled the room—flesh slamming into flesh and moans and gasps.
