This was the last show for a week, and I had no clue where I was going to hole up during the break. I didn’t want to go back to New York, and the last thing I wanted was to be stuck in my shitty apartment that I never stayed in. I didn’t even know why I kept the place.
The guys were going home to their significant others. I sure as hell wasn’t going to tag along for that. Ace hadn’t mentioned his plans, and I secretly hoped he’d ask me what I was going to do. Maybe I’d head to Los Angeles and see some old friends. Or maybe I’d fly out to Maui. It sure as hell had to be warmer than Michigan in October.
“You sound better,” Ace said, climbing the stairs. “I can hear you yelling at them all the way outside.”
“No, you can’t,” I groaned, taking another sip of my tea. “Can you?”
“No,” he laughed, leaning over to kiss my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”
“I think it broke last night,” I said. “I feel much better.”
Drake boarded the bus, hanging up the phone. He nodded and took a seat on the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “Don’t mind me, I’m just going to sit here and do nothing.” Ace and I chuckled as my guitarist let out a weary sigh.
“You good to go tonight?” Ace asked, reaching for my hand.
“Of course,” I bristled. “A little infection is not going to stop me from performing.” The one place I felt like myself, like I was free of all the bullshit in my life, was on that stage. I could get up there and perform where no one judged me, because I was confident in my abilities to give the crowd what they paid for, plus so much more.
“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. “All right, tough girl, I’m here to listen to what that voice can do. Feel like singing with me?”
“Are you kidding me?” I gasped. We’d never warmed up together. It’d been a private dream to sing with the Ace Ryker. My hands were suddenly shaking, and I had to set my cup down before I spilled tea in my lap.
“Let’s sing one of yours,” he suggested. My eyes widened. I didn’t know he knew my songs. That was a compliment I would cherish for a long time.
“Which one?” I asked.
“Midnight?”
“Okay,” I agreed and promptly blushed.
“Let me get my guitar,” Drake chuckled, getting up from his seat on the couch. He walked toward the back of the bus and returned a few seconds later.
My guitarist continued to play a few songs after we sang one of my own. We rolled into one of Ace’s ballads and I was positive, right then and there, that if he’d asked me to, I would’ve taken his hand and followed him anywhere. He’d reach over and touch me freely as we sang. My eyes flickered over to Drake and he was ignoring us, lost in the music.
I was getting lost in Ace Ryker…and I was falling fast.
“I’m out,” Drake said once the music stopped. He grabbed his phone off the table, standing up to stretch. “See you inside.”
“Thanks,” I said, not watching Drake leave. My eyes were fixed on Ace. We were sitting on opposite couches, one on each side of the bus, but we were leaning forward. There was only six inches between us.
As soon as the bus’s door closed, Ace reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me into his lap. My legs straddled his thighs and his hands tangled in his hair. I didn’t have a chance to protest before his lips were on mine.
“Go home with me to Seattle,” he breathed between nips on my bottom lip. “Don’t answer me yet.” I giggled when he kissed me again…this time with more force than ever before.
My body heated, my sex pulsed, and I scooted myself closer to him, feeling his hardness at the juncture of my thighs. My fingers traced his sharp jaw, trailing down his neck as his tongue invaded my mouth with an urgency that sent heat to my very core.
His hands flexed on my hips, the movement pulling my sex against his jean covered cock. He pushed forward, silently telling me that he wanted me. I let my hands drop to his shoulders, my hands making fists in his shirt. I wanted to rip it from his body and run my hands all over his warm skin. I wanted to lick his neck, his sexy nipples.
His right hand left my hip and skimmed upward, stopping on my side, right next to my aching and heavy breast. I needed his touch like I needed air to breathe. He must’ve read my mind, because his thumb tentatively stroked the side of my breast, moving slowly toward my nipple that was hard and straining behind my bra. I dropped my hold on him and grabbed his hand, pushing his palm against my breast. We both moaned from the touch.
“Please,” I groaned, grinding my sex against him.
“Not here,” he whispered, finally releasing my lips. I knew they were swollen, and a quick swipe of my tongue verified that he’d abused them in the most erotic ways. God, I could kiss him for hours and never tire of it.
“Ace,” I protested, but he shut me up with another press of his lips and an invasion of his velvet tongue.
“Go home with me?” he pressured.
“You know I’m going to say yes, don’t you?” I sighed and tucked my head under his chin. He kissed my forehead and stroked the hair back from my face.
“I’d hoped you would,” he admitted.
“And you’re going to leave me like this until then?” I scowled.
“Just as you’re leaving me like this,” he replied, following up with a thrust of his hips so that I could feel his hardness again.
“When do we leave?” I asked.
“Our flight leaves at eight tomorrow morning,” he grinned.
“You bought my ticket?” I asked, sitting up suddenly.
“Yes,” he smirked, with that sexy lift to the corner of his lips.
“Ace,” I protested.
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he laughed, wrapping his arms around my waist and anchoring me to his lap when I tried to slide off.
“I’m not mad,” I replied, raising an eyebrow at him. “You don’t want to see me mad.”
“I probably don’t want to ever piss you off,” he teased, twisting on the couch, dropping me on my back. He leaned over, pushing his cock between my legs and against the barrier of our clothes. It was sexy and naughty…and I really wanted to strip down to nothing and let him take me on this nasty ass bus.
Chapter 15
Presley
The plane landed in a mixture of fog and rain. Everything outside the window was dreary and it looked as cold as Michigan had been earlier when we left. Ace squeezed my hand, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Ready?” he asked, pulling my hand so that I could stand. A few passengers gawked at us, but I didn’t pay them any more attention than needed.
We waited on our bags, standing silently in the corner. He stood in front of me protectively, our heads together. He would kiss my lips occasionally. With every one, I felt my insides quiver. I wanted him with a fierceness that stunned me. I’d never accepted this much affection from anyone in my life. The only men in my life that loved me were my brothers, my band mates. I didn’t want to fuck any of them.
“You’re far away from me,” he whispered, touching my temple. “I don’t like that.”
“I’m sorry,” I sighed, dropping my gaze, but Ace tucked his finger under my chin and pulled my eyes back to his.
“If you don’t want to be here, I will understand,” he said.
“No, that’s not it,” I whispered, looking around. None of the people around us were watching and I enjoyed the normalcy for once. When you had been the center of attention for months, you tended to appreciate your free time a little bit more. “I want to be with you, Ace.”
“Good.” He winked. “I’m going to take you home and make you rest for a few days. You’re still a little hoarse, and I want to make sure you’re back to full strength before we go back on the road.”
“Thank you,” I replied. I’d come to accept it when the guys took care of me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do it myself, but sometimes, it was just easier to let them think they were caring for
me.
Ace checked his phone as we trudged out to the parking lot with our bags. “I had a friend drop my car off. There it is.”
We approached a sleek, black Mercedes. It was beautiful. “Nice car.”
“Thanks,” he smiled, giving a little shrug. “My little toy.”
“You let your friend drive this?” I asked.
“He’s my bitch,” Ace laughed, his curls bouncing playfully around his face. Why couldn’t I just kiss him as freely as he kissed me? “Plus, he knows I’ll kill him if he scratches the car.”
“Okay,” I chuckled. “You love your car.”
“You better believe your sweet ass I do.” He nodded as he placed our bags in the trunk. Thankfully, I didn’t bring all of my clothes, because we would’ve needed a bigger car.
Ace opened the door for me and walked around to get into the driver’s seat. We sped out of the lot and hopped on the highway, heading west. Traffic was light for a Sunday afternoon and we arrived at a subdivision less than half an hour after leaving the airport.
I leaned forward as I looked up at the modest home on the hill. The two story house sat on a large lot that was shaded by several trees. A tinted Cadillac passed as we waited to turn into his driveway. Ace gave a short wave to his neighbor and turned the wheel, climbing the driveway slowly.
As we parked inside the three car garage, I felt a strange feeling come over me. I’d never done something like this before. I’d been with men in the past, but on my terms…in my own place. How the hell was I going to be able to do this? Could I do this? Looking over at Ace, I realized that I didn’t care if I could or could not do this…I wanted this. I wanted to be with him.
“There’s no hurry,” he said, reading my mind. I blushed and tucked my head. Would I ever get over my aversion to affection?
“I’ve never done this,” I whispered. “Gone home with a guy.”
“Those are the most amazing words you could’ve ever spoken to me,” he said, turning sideways in his seat. He didn’t make a move toward me and I reached out to touch his hand, smiling because I actually touched him first. His gaze dropped to my hand and I saw the spark of pride that lit up his eyes.
“Why?” I asked, not quite understanding why he said that.
“Presley,” he sighed, running his hand down his face. “You know my history. Hell, everyone knows my history.”
I nodded, not replying. He was telling me that he was a manwhore before, but I had a feeling it’d been while he was on drugs. “How long?” I choked out.
“I haven’t touched drugs in just over three years,” he admitted. “I haven’t touched a band whore in that time either.”
“You haven’t been with anyone in three years?” I asked, scowling. I didn’t know if I believed that, not with all of the women who hung on him at the shows.
“When my head cleared from all of the poison I was pumping into my body, I realized I didn’t want that anymore. I wanted something meaningful…lasting.” He pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed the back of my hands.
“Do you want that with me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I didn’t know if I wanted to be rejected by him. I didn’t know if I could handle being just a body to warm his bed.
“I’d like to try,” he admitted. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
“Okay,” I replied.
We walked into a large kitchen; beige tile lined the floor, dark brown cabinets and a quartz countertop made the home look warm, inviting. I followed him into a living room with two dark brown couches pushed together to make a large L in the middle of the room that focused on a huge flat screen television anchored to the wall. We passed the front door and turned left down a hallway where we passed two doors that were closed, and dead ended into a set of double doors.
Ace set down one bag so he could open the one door, stepping back so I could walk ahead of him. “Set your things wherever you want. The closet is in the bathroom over there, and there is a double sink if you’d like to put your hair stuff on the counter.”
The bedroom was as big as my apartment in New York. A huge bed sat between two windows on my right, the comforter a deep red color. Mounds of pillows in beige and brown made me want to just climb up right in the middle and sleep for the next two days.
To my left was another flat screen mounted to the wall, but it wasn’t as big. Under it was a dresser. Past the bed was a chaise lounge that matched the comforter and another set of double doors. Ace opened them to reveal a large bathroom with a huge Jacuzzi tub.
“I want that,” I hummed, smiling when he chuckled.
“Bus showers suck,” he agreed, tossing his bag into the closet in the back of the bathroom. He held his hand out for mine, and I handed it over. “We can deal with those later. It’s time for you to rest.”
“I just got here,” I complained.
“Bed or couch?” he asked, ignoring me.
“Couch,” I sighed, remembering that huge television. I just wanted to relax, and the more I stood there, the more tired I realized I was.
“I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket,” he offered, pulling me into the living room. I found the corner of the plush couch, sighing heavily when I melted into the cushions. Oh, I could get used to this.
Closing my eyes, I felt a blanket cover my body and Ace jarred me a little to give me a fluffy pillow. I drifted in and out for a while, waking occasionally to find Ace sitting at my feet flipping channels on the television. He had the volume turned down so low I wasn’t sure if he could hear it.
“Tell me about yourself,” I mumbled, pulling the blanket up over my shoulders.
“There’s really not much to tell,” he shrugged.
“Where are your parents?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t have any,” he said, turning sideways so that he could look at me. “My parents died when I was very young. I was put into foster care and stayed there until they sent me on my way when I turned eighteen. I never fit in with any of the families that came to meet kids. So, I was never adopted.”
“I’m so sorry,” I gasped, sitting up so that I could reach his hand.
“It’s okay, Pres, really,” he smiled. “It wasn’t that bad. I was cared for and sent to school. The ladies at the home were really good to me.”
“Why do you go by Ace and not Grant?” I asked.
“Ace was stitched into the blanket I had when I came to the home,” he began. “I guess the name stuck with the old lady that cared for me, and I kept it because it was the only thing that I had that was originally mine. Everything else was given to me by the state; my clothes, my education, my food.”
“Do you remember her?” I continued with the questions because he was talking. I’d noticed that he never really talked about himself.
“My mom?” he asked, shaking his head. “No, I was only two. I have no memory of anything but the home.”
“I meant the old lady,” I clarified.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling affectionately. Obviously, this woman meant a lot to him. “Her name was Matilda Marshall. She was single and had never married. She said that it was her calling to take care of the children and that was all she needed in life. I don’t know what happened to her after I left. She had to have been in her sixties then, I think.”
“It sounds like she was special to you.”
“She was the only mother I had, but after I left, I moved to Seattle, thinking I could get in with the music scene here. I liked the grunge sound that had been so successful. I never went back. I was ready to be on my own.”
“Where are you from, originally?” I asked.
“Albuquerque,” he replied. “I also left because I wanted something new…different.”
“You should look her up when we go to New Mexico,” I suggested. I yawned and closed my eyes for a moment.
“I probably couldn’t find her,” he said dismissively, but I saw him look off toward the front door in thought. This woman was his mother even though it wasn�
�t in blood, and the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about her, I could tell that he missed her. Maybe I could do a little research for him? I felt the blanket being tucked around my hips as I let the sensations lull me to a deep, restful sleep.
Chapter 16
Ace
I let her sleep for a couple of hours. I’d gone to my room and removed my clothes from the bag, taking the dirty ones to the laundry. I pulled the covers back on my bed and stared at it longingly. The bed in my bunk was specially made for my back, but the one at home was what I’d missed.
I took a hot shower, letting the water beat down over my body, easing the tension across the scars from my several surgeries. I’d have to take some over the counter anti-inflammatory before I did anything else. I’d also need to get back into the gym while on break. I usually tried to find a gym I could visit while on tour, but sometimes that wasn’t always possible. I’d learned in rehab that I couldn’t be lazy. I had to work my body in other ways than just running around on stage every night.
That stage was the only thing that kept me going. Watching Presley every night was a treat I found myself enjoying more than I should. The way she carried herself, the way she worked the crowd, and the way she sang every note to perfection was inspiring. She’d worked her way out of her own personal hell to flourish in her career.
It was getting close to four and Presley hadn’t had anything to eat since we left Michigan. I needed to feed her. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a white undershirt, pulling it over my head as I padded barefoot down the hallway. When I stepped quietly into the living room, her eyes were open, but only slightly.
“Hey,” she smiled, stretching one arm over her head. That movement lifted her breasts up in an inviting manner. I had to remember I was a gentleman and sure wouldn’t look like one if I kept staring at her tits.
Fatal Temptations (Fatal Cross Live! Book 2) Page 10
