by Ivy McAdams
“I know.”
“We’re not going to just get away. Our lives are going to depend on whether we can escape them.”
His fingers tightened again, and he growled. “I know. We’ll be packed up here at camp and ready to move out. We won’t stay here where they can find us. People can take their cuts of the money and go build new lives.”
She drew in a sharp breath at the pinch of his fingers. Bridget’s words came crashing back down.
Where would she go when the gang split ways?
She stared up into his dark eyes. They were fierce, but not angry. She loved the way they flashed with passion when he argued with her.
“You’ll just hand out the money and wish everyone good luck?”
The muscles in his jaw worked. “That’s what they want.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Everyone?”
“It’s what we all want. To be stable. To have enough money that we don’t need to live below the law.”
It wasn’t what she wanted. Not exactly.
She didn’t want to live outside the law. It was outside her upbringing to even think of living as a true outlaw. She’d been living in their gang, of course, but she hadn’t been an active participant in any of their missions. The thought of having to do that to keep herself alive made her stomach turn.
But leaving the only friends she had in the world sounded even worse.
“We’ll go find our places in the world,” he said. “You can go back to your family.”
Her back tightened, and her eyes flashed. “I don’t want to go back to my family.”
“They’ll understand what happened.”
“I don’t care.” Shame burned her cheeks like a branding iron. “I have a good thing going out here. I don’t want it to end.”
His hands on her arms had eased a little, and one released her to slide up to her neck, caressing the tender flesh there. “It?” His eyes followed his fingers along her collarbone, then jumped back up to hers. “What don’t you want to end?”
Him. What his body was doing to hers. All of it.
She pulled in a shuddering breath. “You’re all my family now. I don’t want to lose you.”
Her pulse skipped when his eyebrow and mouth twitched up.
“All of you, I mean,” she fumbled. “Everyone.”
“Not just me?” he growled, a breathy rumble that lit up her body.
Her pulse tripped, doing cartwheels through her abdomen. He’d turned her world upside down in the last few days. She wasn’t sure how he’d managed it, but she couldn’t deny it.
A new heat drove through her, and the arm he’d released moved, her hand snagging the edge of his leather jacket.
His eyes dropped to her hand for an instant before popping back up to hers.
“Especially you,” she murmured.
A fire flamed within his eyes that took her breath away. His hand snaked around the back of her head and lifted her to him, claiming her lips before she had a moment to recover.
The heat in his mouth scalded her, but she welcomed it. She lifted onto her toes, pressing herself further into him. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she relished the spark against hers. Her hand on his jacket let go to slip inside, running her fingertips along the thin fabric of his shirt. They smoothed over his waist and back, absorbing his warmth.
His hand dropped to her waist, pressing into the small of her back, down her rear to rock her hips into him. He growled as he stepped into her and pushed her back against a stake of his tent, his hand fisting in her hair. The strands pulled taut, and Clara gasped.
For an instant, he froze, but his hand did not ease in her hair. The old sights and smells invaded her, and she pinched her eyes closed. She cursed her sharp memory as a wavering fear danced on the edge of her consciousness. An old reflex told her to push the man on her away and run. To fight back.
She’d promised herself no man would touch her again.
She’d not be abused any longer.
Her muscles bunched and tensed. Her breath came soft and short.
But Ace didn’t let go.
“Clara.”
His voice was firm, deep, intoxicating.
But her body was locked down, nerves firing in all directions.
Soft fingers touched her face, and she trembled.
“Clara, look at me.”
Her jaw quivered, and she clamped it tighter as she fought her body. When her eyelids fluttered open, she found his eyes wide and gazing at her.
No judgment. No anger. Just his beautiful eyes looking back at her.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered.
The tight fingers in her hair told her otherwise, but she didn’t question him. Her voice was gone.
“Clara, I’m not your husband.”
Her eyes closed again, and a single tear slid free.
He heaved a long, heavy breath, and it tickled across her face.
“He was normal in the beginning,” she murmured.
This time when her eyes opened, Ace’s were deep, intrigued by her words.
“Of course he was. You wouldn’t have married a monster.”
She swallowed a knot of nerves and shook her head.
“But there must have been some clue,” he whispered, his fingers brushing over her cheekbone. “Some warning you missed.”
“He didn’t touch me like you,” she whispered, then touched his hand on her face. “Not like this. He didn’t look at me like you.”
Ace’s eyes were focused on her like nothing else in the world mattered. Intense energy laced with an adoration that sent her heart spinning.
“His touches were different,” he said.
It wasn’t a question, and she didn’t deny it.
“Yes. And he didn’t like to look me in the eye.”
"There was an inkling then that he was a bad man. Way back then. You just didn't want to see it."
His fingers edged down the side of her face, moving along her jaw delicately.
Images of Lloyd at the beginning of their relationship flashed in her mind, and she held back a full-body shudder. It was true that he hadn't been amazing, and he hadn't excited her like Ace, but he'd been fairly normal. Except for not looking at her square in the eye. She'd had few relationships with men outside her family. It hadn't seemed all that unusual at the time.
But she’d stared into Ace’s eyes more in the last few days than she had with Lloyd in the all years they’d been married. By the end, he never looked at her. It was easier for him to lie that way.
Not to mention how controlling he’d been, planning their wedding and refusing to let her continue to practice law. It’d all been a precursor for him taking over her life, moving her away from her family and driving her self worth into the dirt.
Then the physical abuse had started.
She drew in a long breath, realizing the signs had been there, but she’d been too blind to see them.
“Do you have an inkling about me?” Ace’s voice rumbled.
She searched his eyes in silence.
“I’m a dangerous man, Clara. I’ve hurt people.”
Her heart raced.
If she was truly honest to herself, she’d missed all Lloyd’s signs, mostly because she didn’t want to see them.
But she’d known Ace for months. She knew his nature. His intelligence. His dedication to his people.
And now she knew his patience and devotion.
“You may be,” she whispered. “But I’m not afraid of you.”
His chest rose and fell against her as he blew out a long breath that tickled her cheeks.
“You shouldn’t be,” he murmured.
When his fingers tightened in her hair and tugged, her breath caught.
“But we’re going to share the control this time,” he said.
Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach twisted. More than the tug in her hair, her focus stuck on his words. This time.
A buzz of excitement rushed throu
gh her veins. The pinch in her scalp became less painful and more intriguing.
His eyes were dark, clouded with a passion that lit her up. Nerves swirled in the pit of her stomach, heat spreading into her limbs and pooling between her legs.
He was so damn handsome. Enticing. His eyes undressed her and touched her in all the right places.
She could share some control.
Her head bobbed an inch as she gazed up at him. “Yes.”
It was all the permission he needed. His mouth crushed into hers again, and she clung to him. Hands up his shoulders, fingers weaving into his hair. He pressed into her, bodies aligning as his hips ground into hers.
Then his hand in her hair tugged. A rush caught her, the thrill overpowering the flicker of panic. He let her mouth go and pulled her head back far enough to lower his lips to her throat. The skin burned where he touched, a tickle of goose bumps running down her arms. His teeth grazed her flesh, then he bit in and sucked.
Blood roared in her ears. The heat in her stomach surged.
When his lips slid down to tease the edge of her neck, a throaty hum escaped her. He growled against her skin, and her legs clenched against the excitement.
Then he stepped back, and her eyes popped open. She wasn’t ready for him to stop. Her body was as hot as a live wire. The hand in her hair released, and she was surprised by the disappointment that weighed in her chest.
His fingers snagged hers, and he turned toward the front of the tent.
She frowned and pulled back. “Where are you going?”
The eyes he turned back on her danced in a dark excitement she hadn’t yet seen. Passionate, fiery, heated.
“We’re leaving camp for a bit,” he said. “No one needs to hear you moan my name but me.”
Chapter 13
Ace held Clara’s fingers tightly behind him as he slipped around the back of his tent and through the clearing beyond camp. The evening sun hung low behind the trees, casting long spiderwebs of shadows over the two of them until they ducked into the shaded forest.
Ace’s hand on hers was a seamless connection between them, electricity buzzing from one body to the next. Her skin quivered, grabbing any cool gust of air or long grass stalk they passed. Everything brushed against her, caressed her. Her heart thrummed with life.
As they passed through the horse herd, many of the animals lifted their heads. An occasional warm breath touched her arm, and Clara shivered.
The air grew moist as they approached the river. An urge clenched inside her at the sight of the water’s edge, where she’d watched him undress the night before. Where he’d lain back upon the sand and let her learn his body, sit astride his lap, and rock herself into oblivion. A searing blush crossed her cheeks as she recalled what she’d done with his eyes upon her. Even greater than the whisper of humiliation, however, was the need to have it again.
Her fingers dug into his, a pleading hope that he would stop soon so she could wrap herself around him.
He stepped up to the edge of the water and surveyed the river. The further bank rose higher, a short hill that stretched far into the trees. His eyes seem to focus on the grassy knoll there before he looked down at her.
She found the same fire within his eyes that she felt within her body and moved toward him, unable to be apart from him any longer.
He dropped her hand and wrapped her in his arms as she reached up to kiss him. His lips were soft only for a moment. Then they became hard and hot on hers, twisting and pressing. The deep, shuddering pull of breath in his body sent a shiver down her spine. She loved having as much effect on him as he had on her. Strong, stoic Ace was not a rock-hard wall when her hands were on him.
Her fingers dug into his back and shoulders as she let the kiss consume her. It was as if she’d gone days without air, finally to get a taste of it again. And he was delicious.
He pressed in harder, his growl tickling along her lips, and she moaned into his mouth. She loved his sounds. She wanted more.
While her thoughts swam, unable to focus, his hands slid down her back to press into her bottom, lifting her off the ground and tucking her legs around him.
A surprised gasp slipped through her lips as he pressed in hard between her legs, locking her in tight against him. The fire under her skin burned hotter.
Then they were moving.
His boots splashed into the river, cold droplets hitting her pants and sinking in. She clung tighter to him as he crossed the water. On the other side, they trudged up the short rocky bank.
A rolling rush of water met her ears. Beyond the knoll, the river twisted in small rapids and a waterfall. The moisture hanging in the air clung to her skin, tickling the alert nerves along her arms and legs.
Ace moved to the crest of the knoll where the moss was soft and spongy and lowered them to the ground. He dropped to his knees and settled her across his lap, her legs still tucked in tight around him.
When she slid in closer, the hard swell of him nudged between her legs. Her lips parted as the liquid heat within her pooled against him. She rocked her hips into his, testing and teasing enough to make him groan. She nibbled along his jaw when his head went back, enjoying the smooth but roughening skin under his chin.
When her hands pressed into his chest, tugging at the buttons along his sternum, his fingers found hers and stilled them.
“Do not forget,” he rasped as he pried her hands away, “that this is my turn.”
He dipped forward to lean her back into the moss. She gazed up at him as she lay back, breath uneven and trying to catch up.
The desire that clouded his eyes was enough to melt her, and she wanted to rip his clothes clean from his body. To find new ways to pleasure both of them. The knowledge that there were things that could make her scream that she did not yet know was intoxicating.
He pressed on her knees in an attempt to ease her off his waist, but her legs tightened, drawing his rigid erection even tighter against her.
His eyes narrowed, filled with both passion and amusement that tickled her in places that took her breath away.
“You had your turn to please yourself last time.” His voice was deep, wicked, seeping into her and stoking the fire between her legs. “Now it is my turn to make you squirm.”
His eyes flashed, a heated promise, and her body trembled with an excitement she couldn’t contain. His hands rested on her legs, relaxed and waiting for her response.
As much as she didn’t want to relinquish her control, she was drawn by his promise of new pleasures. She could hardly believe anything could top her experience with him the night before.
Beautiful flashes of his face bombarded her. The twinkle in his eye when she’d told him she trusted him. The wicked grin when he’d told her she’d only just begun to discover what amazing things he could do to her.
Her heart thumped in earnest. She wanted those things from him. And she did trust him.
Her muscles relaxed, and the moment they did, his hands slid down her thighs, fingers kneading her flesh and sending buzzes of hot energy up into the junction between her legs. Every touch and drag of his hands added to the building pressure deep within her but also worked against the barrier of self-control she tried so hard to maintain.
She’d let herself go with him before, but she’d held the reins.
The thought of letting go completely was terrifying, but as he continued to touch her, sliding a hand up to palm the very core of her, the notion grew more and more thrilling as well.
She gasped as her body wept for him, and she knew he could feel it by the way his eyes danced.
“You’re an enchanting woman, Clara McGowen,” he growled as his hand pressed harder against her, cupping her warmth.
Her head lolled back against the moss, wracked with a need she couldn’t control. “Admire me later,” she whispered.
The rumble in him was one of amusement but laced with a lusty edge that vibrated her entire body, and she shivered. His hands slid up to her hips, pe
eling her pants and undergarments down her legs. The cool air on her skin wasn’t as shocking as his hot hands. They pushed the clothing away and off her feet.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked as he tossed her clothes aside.
The knot that formed in her throat nearly choked her. There was nothing to prepare for though. She was ready. She wanted him, tricks and all.
“I trust you,” she breathed.
His nostrils flared as he gazed at her, eyes dark and heavy with arousal. Then his arms linked beneath her knees and spread her legs.
He dropped down to the ground before her, and she’d just lifted her head to see what he was doing when his tongue touched her opening. Her body clenched, and she gasped. The heat within her surged, suddenly so much that she felt it might explode. It was difficult to release her legs again, but Ace’s hands coaxed her open once more.
His mouth teased along her opening, sliding and prodding as she fought to control the wiggle in her hips.
He dragged his tongue up her folds to the sensitive node in the center of her legs. When the tip of his tongue touched it, she nearly fell into pieces.
“Oh, Ace,” she gasped, pressing back into the grass. The surge of electricity was nearly too much, but her legs remained open and waiting for him.
His tongue touched her again and beams of excitement leapt through her. His mouth moved on her in a way that had her convinced she was dreaming, lost in some euphoric trance she was sure she never wanted to wake from. Her body lifted to meet him, asking for more, and he gave it.
She whimpered as he teased her, a hot storm of desire boiling inside her. It was driving her wild. It coiled in her belly and heated the junction of her legs until she thought they’d catch in flames.
As the pressure peaked, and she was sure it would explode, his tongue disappeared. She drew in a ragged breath, reaching for him and digging her fingers into the tops of her thighs. But he was gone.
“Ace,” she breathed.
His eyes were clouded with passion when she found them, a feral smile on his face.
“Clara, do you like it?”
Her body trembled, dancing along the edge of a cliff she desperately wanted to fall from.
She lifted her hips higher, swaying them in his face in desperate need. “Yes.”
