by Desconhecido
Ace trailed his lips along her jaw lightly, his arm tightening around her waist. “Morning,” he purred between leisurely strokes of his tongue.
Lydia shivered, her sore nether parts beginning to wake up. “Ace,” she said, trying to maintain some level of rationality, “what does the eagle mean?”
He stilled and eased back, looking more awake. “You like it?”
She nodded. “It’s beautiful.”
Ace caught her hand and held it over his heart—over the main part of the eagle. “It means freedom.”
Arching a brow and rubbing her fingers over his taut skin, Lydia teased, “Your heart is free?”
“Damn right,” he replied with a smirk. He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed her fingers one by one. “Free for you, princess.”
Lydia’s face heated and her heart jumped. That wasn’t the kind of statement that would do her sanity any good if she dwelled on it. “I’m hungry,” she declared. “Let’s do something for breakfast.”
Ace frowned, letting her hand rest on his collar. “Lydia,” he said, “you know we can’t go out.”
Well that was enough to throw reality back in her face. She felt like an idiot. But she didn’t want him to know that. She withdrew and pulled the sheet around her body. “Then we’ll eat in. I went grocery shopping a few days ago, I have food.” Fortunately.
****
Ace could’ve kicked himself as he rolled to his feet. There wasn’t a better way to say that? They’d both been swept up in the moment. He’d needed to remind himself as well as her that there was another situation beyond whatever had happened between them last night. But had he needed to say it like a slap in the face? He didn’t want her thinking he was only playing with her while it was convenient, either.
No, assuming she—rightfully—kicked him the hell out of her life at the end of their forty-eight hours, Ace knew he’d be haunted by this. He doubted he’d ever find another woman who could rile him up the way she had the night before. He was amazed either of them could walk after the way they’d fucked for half the night straight. She got to him like no other woman ever had, but she didn’t know that. And he may not understand what it meant, but he knew one thing: if it was at all possible, he didn’t want to lose her over this.
Over Kyle and his fucking favors.
“I need you to pick up a bag for me,” Kyle had said. “Take it to the address I text you. There’ll be a gun in the outer pocket; you might need it. But don’t look in the bag.”
He should’ve known better than to agree to something that shady, but shady had never scared him off something in the past. Hell, last night wasn’t the first time he’d had cops on his ass. It was just the first time being caught could possibly mean serious time, and he had no inclination to do serious time. But whatever shit Kyle had gotten into this time, and Ace had a sneaking suspicion he knew what it was, it had gone too far.
Everything was different now that Lydia was involved.
“Oh my God,” Lydia exclaimed from down the hall.
Fearing the worst, Ace was immediately on his feet and moving. If someone had broken in while he’d been distracted, or while they’d been sleeping, he’d kill the fucker.
But that wasn’t the case. No, it was possibly worse. Lydia had gotten curious. He wanted to appreciate the sight she made, covered in nothing but his shirt from the day before which was oversized and sexy as hell on her. But she was standing over the opened duffel bag, a single bundle of cash in one hand and a look of horror on her face.
“Lydia,” he started, suddenly desperate.
“You’re the robber,” she interrupted, horror, anger, and hurt clouding her voice. Tears danced in front of her eyes mockingly. “You’re the one they didn’t catch.” Accusation was building and he couldn’t blame her. Of course she’d make that assumption.
Holding his hands up defensively, Ace said, “Princess, listen to me, it’s not that simple.”
The first tear escaped and she hurled the bundle at him angrily. “The hell it isn’t! There were two men and only one was caught! Half the stolen cash was unaccounted for!” She paused and it was obvious something horrible crossed her mind. She took a stumbled step backward, arms coming around her middle, and another tear slipped free. “Oh, God,” she groaned. “I’m an accomplice. The police will think I’m an accomplice! You bastard! How could you drag me into this?”
Ace’s stomach plummeted as she backed into the opposite wall. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself for her making that assumption. But how the hell could he make her see the truth?
Chapter Seven
Lydia felt like throwing up. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to forget how this had all started. Allowed herself to put it so far out of her mind that she was now stuck in this position. Backed into a proverbial—and almost literal—corner in her own home, wearing nothing but the criminal’s shirt. Her body still sore from a long, thrilling night of lovemaking that was probably little more to him than a fun distraction. He’d bullied his way into her home with a gun drawn for Christ’s sake and she’d forgotten!
God, Lydia, you almost deserve this for being so stupid.
Almost, maybe, but not quite. She knew she was the victim here. And she’d fight tooth and nail, argue whatever Ace may have planned until the authorities recognized the situation. If she had to empty her savings to afford an attorney she’d do it. She’d do whatever it took to reclaim her dignity from this … this disastrous mistake.
Her heart ached worse than her stomach.
Last night, and this morning, it would have been easy to fall for this man. This man that was so close to her secret dream. She’d always wanted something wild, something like what she read in all those romance novels. She’d wanted it so badly that she’d forgotten the difference between romance novel and reality. In reality, the grown bad boy is a bad man. Like Ace.
“How could you?” she repeated, knowing her tears were in her voice now.
“Lydia, princess, let me explain,” Ace pleaded, taking a step toward her.
“Don’t! Don’t you dare come near me!” She’d let him near her once and it’d cost her. She wasn’t about to make that mistake again.
Ace froze and dropped his arms to his sides. A hard look settled over his face. “That’s it? You refuse to consider that it’s not a simple black and white thing?”
“I don’t see how it could be all that complicated,” she returned without moving an inch. She kept up with the news. She knew that a small community bank had been robbed the day before. When it was revealed that a local man had been caught, but with only half the cash, she’d read the article closely in case she recognized the man’s name. She hadn’t, thank goodness, and she’d put it out of her mind.
Until she’d seen the cash in Ace’s bag. That was all that was in it. No clothes or anything. And with one man and half the stolen cash still unaccounted for, it all became crystal clear.
She was harboring a wanted criminal. A bank robber. That was a felony. If she didn’t report him immediately, she would almost surely be arrested, too.
“I didn’t rob that bank,” Ace insisted firmly. “I didn’t even know what was in that damned bag until it was too late.”
Lydia barked out a bitter laugh. “You expect me to believe that? That you somehow magically end up with the bag full of stolen cash and a gun?” Her eyes moved to where the gun rested, temporarily discarded on the side table. Right next to her phone.
“Don’t even think it,” Ace warned, obviously realizing where her gaze had gone. “This is fixable, princess.”
Lifting her glare back to him, Lydia exclaimed, “Don’t you dare call me that anymore. I’m not your princess, or your baby, or whatever else you want to call me. And I’m damn sure not your whore.”
Ace’s frown deepened. “I would never call you that.” He actually had the audacity to look offended.
Lydia snorted. “Sure you wouldn’t. Not while you still wanted to get some. I c
an’t believe what you’ve turned into.”
Something snapped in him, then. She saw it in his eyes. Ace strode forward so fast she couldn’t have dodged if she’d tried. He had her over his shoulder and was moving deeper into the apartment before she knew what was happening.
“Put me down!” Lydia cried, struggling in his hold. He was strong if he could sling her over his shoulder and hold her mostly pinned with one arm. “Get your hands off me!”
“We need to talk,” Ace said harshly, ignoring her words. “Preferably not in a room with a gun.”
Lydia squirmed, wishing she could reach that gun. “You should leave. Leave before I get free and call the cops.”
Ace dropped her none too gently on the bed, letting her bounce once before catching her arms and pinning them to the mattress over her head. He sat his butt on her thighs, pinning her legs and preventing her from kneeing him. “Shut up, Lydia. Listen to me, for fuck’s sake.”
“Get off!” Like she’d ever have listened to a request like that.
Ace growled angrily, a warning in the sound, but something else flashed across his eyes. Like he was conflicted. “Dammit, Lydia, stop for a second!”
Something in his tone made her still, a shiver of fear mixed with a swirl of confusion somewhere near the base of her spine. She still wanted to throw up, she was still on the verge of crying, and a part of her still wanted to fall into his arms. Some deep, obviously stupid, part of her still trusted him. Even after the evidence she’d found in her own living room.
“Thank you,” he said as if she’d ceased her movement on his behalf. He stared hard into her eyes and firmly repeated, “I did not rob that bank.”
Chapter Eight
Lydia swallowed, doing her best to hide her confliction. She wanted to believe him. “You’d better tell me everything,” she finally said. “Or you’re going to have to shoot me to keep me from calling the police.”
His eyes closed and he drew a deep breath, his expression unreadable. Her heart hammered as she waited for his reply. It felt as if her whole world hinged on the next words that came out of his mouth.
“An old military buddy of mine called me up yesterday afternoon,” Ace began quietly. He looked back into her eyes and this time she saw a confliction that mirrored her own reflected in his gaze. “Said he’d run into some trouble and needed me to make a delivery for him. He said I’d find a duffel at the given location. That it’d have a gun in the front pocket if I needed one, but not to look inside the bag itself. He gave me a second address and the name of a man to ask for.”
Lydia’s stomach clenched. It sounded like an action movie plot and she found herself waiting for the next twist.
Ace released her without warning, rolling to the side of the bed and dropping his head into his hands. It struck her, in the brief silence that followed, that it seemed wrong to see such a strong man look so torn and upset. Vulnerable.
“I figured he’d gotten into something stupid,” Ace continued bitterly. “But I thought, by running the favor, I was bailing him out. He saved my life once, so I owed him. But as soon as I tossed the bag around my shoulder and started walking, an undercover cop flipped on his sirens.” Ace paused, heaved another breath, and finally turned his gaze back to Lydia as she pushed to a sitting position. “I swear, I ran because I didn’t want to get Kyle in trouble. I didn’t look in the bag until more cops got involved, and then I panicked.”
Tears prickled behind her eyes again but Lydia forced them back. His story seemed plausible, but it didn’t answer everything.
“Why barge into someone’s home, then? Why take someone—me—at gunpoint?”
Ace tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. “I needed somewhere to lay low,” he said, echoing what he’d said the night before. “To get my head straight. I still thought I might see that dumbass’s request through. Thought there could be a good reason for it.”
Wrapping her arms around herself, Lydia forced out the hard question. “So why shouldn’t I call this in? That would make you a willing accomplice. I’m not going to jail for some stranger.” And it bothered her that she couldn’t honestly say she wouldn’t go to jail for him. She suspected her heart could push her into many a stupid situation for Ace’s sake.
Keeping his gaze on the ceiling, Ace replied, “Because I’ve changed my mind. I owed Kyle, but I don’t owe him you.”
Chills of excitement raced up her arms and down her spine. She didn’t know what that meant exactly, but she liked the sound of it. She softened her voice as much as she dared and asked, “What are you going to do?”
Ace leaned forward again and she saw his arms and shoulders tense. “I haven’t figured that out yet,” he admitted. “If I turn in the cash, Kyle will know I betrayed him. He’ll come after me, and so will whoever the hell Hoage is.”
“But if you keep it, you’ll eventually get caught with it,” Lydia said quietly. “You’d go to jail for a long time.” And she didn’t want that. No part of her wanted to see this spectacular man imprisoned, especially not for trying to be a good friend.
“Yeah,” Ace acknowledged with a sigh. “It’s a fucked up situation, princess. I’m sorry I dumped it on your doorstep.”
Her heart clenched. Something about his apology actually stung. “Don’t apologize,” she instructed firmly. “We just have to figure out a way to fix this.”
****
Ace fought the smile that wanted to tip his lips. He was glad Lydia seemed to believe him; more glad than he’d have expected to be, honestly. When she’d been struggling against him, threatening to turn him in and refusing to hear him out, he’d been furious. But more than that, it had felt like he’d been sucker punched. The idea that he’d lost her already—and all, ironically, because of the very thing that had reunited them—had been crippling. He hadn’t been willing to stomach it.
But now he had a different problem. She wasn’t pulling away from him, but he didn’t see a good way out of the mess he’d landed in. Kyle had royally screwed him over. If I ever see that little bastard again … But there was no point to that threat. If Kyle had half a brain, he’d already ditched town. What he wished he knew was who the hell Hoage was. But all he had was a name in generic typeface on an index card in the pocket the gun had been stashed in.
What the hell game was Kyle playing?
No matter how he sliced it, Ace only had two options. Both involved spending the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, if he was lucky. Worse, both involved losing Lydia.
“Hey,” Lydia called to him, one feminine hand landing on his arm as she scooted up to his side. When he looked over at her, she smiled gently. “What if we go to the police and tell them everything? Surely they’d understand.”
Ace returned her smile though he didn’t share her confidence. In his gut, he knew that was the right choice to make, no matter who Hoage was. If he had to have someone on his ass for the rest of his life he’d rather not also have an equal weight on his conscious. Still, with a dangerous man after him, Ace couldn’t keep Lydia with him. He doubted she’d considered any of that.
“That’s probably best,” he agreed quietly. He reached over and caught her hand, pressing her lips to his knuckles. “But before I go,” he said slowly, “I’m fairly dying to take that shirt off you. You look so fucking good.”
Lydia’s cheeks flushed and she curled her fingers around his. “Another hour won’t hurt anything,” she agreed, pulling him closer.
Ace growled and tackled her to the bed, rolling until she was straddling his hips, her ass brushing against his erection. “I may need more than an hour,” he admitted as he squeezed her thighs. “There’s so much of this apartment we haven’t defiled yet.”
Lydia laughed and slid her hands, fingers splayed, up his chest. “I want you inside me,” she whispered.
His dick pulsed at her words and he groaned. “Ditch the shirt. Let me see that body.”
With a sexy grin, Lydia grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled
it over her head, her natural curls falling down her chest and back. The contrast between her dark hair and her paler skin was beautiful. Ace sat up, wrapped an arm around her waist, and caught one breast in his mouth without preamble. Lydia gasped and immediately curled her nails into his scalp and shoulder. With her nipple beneath his tongue and his other hand on her ass, Ace guided her hips into position over him.
She took his dick deep into her tight body, gasping and moaning as he buried himself inside her. The sound was like music to his ears, to say nothing of the sensation of having her tight heat encompassing him. Ace groaned and pinched her nipple with his teeth as he fell backward, tugging her with him. He snapped his hips up, grinding into hers, and Lydia took control flawlessly.
She pulled away from his mouth, sitting up on his cock and rocking over him. Her hips ground into his and she started bouncing just enough to cause a delicious friction. Her hair bounced around her shoulders and she threw her head back when he surged into her again.
“God, princess,” he groaned, his hands running up her sides and down the length of her thighs. “That’s it. Fuck me good.”
“Ace!” she cried as her rhythm increased, her walls tightening promisingly around his cock. She moaned, long and low, when he caught one breast with his palm. She was so close he could feel the tension building. And he wanted to watch her come all over him.
Ace reached between them while she rode him ever harder. She sank onto him again and he found her clit with his thumb. As soon as he applied a little pressure she was screaming her ecstasy to the ceiling. He took over then, grabbing hold of her hips and thrusting into her hard and fast until her clenching, sucking walls finally pulled him over.
Chapter Nine
Lydia woke later that morning to find a blanket draped over her and a note on her nightstand, beside her clock. Ace was gone. She knew it as soon as her eyes alighted on the note and her heart seized. He left … again. What was that, his M.O.? No. Last time he’d left without a word, without a warning. This time, he’d left her a note. The difference was minimal, but she clung to it as she sat up, wrapped the blanket around herself, and reached for his note.
