Rachel, and Cruz could move like a ghost. There was no telling what he'd seen--or misunderstood. "Listen, brother--"
"Don't." Cruz leaned in until his beard scraped Ace's jaw and his breath was a hot tickle that whipped arousal higher. "Just admit it. Admit you can't stay away from her."
He couldn't, but that didn't matter. Rachel had a choice between the man who'd shattered her heart and the hero who'd do anything to put it back together. If she really wanted Ace, she'd have ended up in his bed, riding his tongue to an orgasm as hot as the one she was headed for now.
But she hadn't. She'd asked for time. She'd run away. "Who says it's up to me?"
"Isn't it?"
"Look at what she's wearing." It couldn't be a coincidence, not after last night. Thick black ribbons crisscrossed her torso, dragging the eye down to the lace-edged panties secured at her hips with more satin. "Last night, I told her you like ribbons."
Cruz laughed, low and rough, and his hand slipped down to the middle of Ace's back. "Did you whisper it in her ear nice and dirty, like this?"
Nothing he said would ever be as dirty as this. Casual filth tumbled from Ace's lips, waking or sleeping, because it was fun and easy and pretty fucking effective at scaring away nervous virgins looking for Jared's specialty--tender sexual awakenings. His dirty words came cheap.
Cruz's were precise, each one slamming home with the impact of a hundred of Ace's, and doled out in servings so small you were ready to beg for the next taste. But Ace didn't beg. He taunted, though it was mostly bluster now. "You think this is dirty?"
Any answer he might have made was swallowed by a roar from the crowd. Rachel had shed her panties, everything but the dark ribbon tied around her midsection. It made her look like a gift as she lay on the stage, back arched, so naked, so exposed--even her pussy was bare, something Ace wouldn't have realized was new if he hadn't had his hand in her pants before she'd taken up dancing.
She was on display, breathlessly, fearlessly vulnerable as she slipped one hand between her thighs. The audience quieted in time for her to part her lips on a long, trembling moan of pleasure, one Ace felt in his bones.
Cruz shuddered, his hand creeping lower to settle at the small of Ace's back. "You don't waste resources on overkill. You focus, and you do just enough to accomplish your mission. Dedicated, effective strikes." He glanced down, his voice dropping to a rasp. "Are you that hard from watching her dance? I'd believe it, but I don't think it's true."
His fingers burned, even through Ace's shirt. "Am I your mission? Or is she?"
"I think it's more complicated than that." Cruz eased his hand beneath the cotton and brushed the backs of his fingers over the bare skin above Ace's belt. "She may be in ribbons now, but she was in leather last night. And she looked like she was ready to let you eat her alive right there in the hallway."
A day ago, Ace would have sworn nothing could drag his gaze from the sight of Rachel with her fingers in her pussy, fucking them in and out with a rhythm he wanted to memorize. But he twisted to stare at Cruz from two damn inches away, and he still had no clue what to do with the dark recklessness in the other man's eyes. He had wanted to break Cruz free of the bullshit he'd learned in Eden, but he'd never considered he might not be up to handling what was lurking underneath.
Fuck that. He was Alexander fucking Santana. He was Ace . He wouldn't get knocked off his feet by some wobbly-legged dominant still fighting to hide his city-boy shine.
"Is that what you want?" he asked, keeping his voice low and seductive. "Rachel, all soft and sweet in between us?"
And then, a glimmer of truth behind the dark eyes and lust. Cruz glanced at the stage, and the hard set of his jaw relaxed a little. "You want to take care of her. You need it as much as I do. This way, no matter the fallout, she'll have someone, right?"
The fallout .
Ace
"Don't." Cruz leaned in until his beard scraped Ace's jaw and his breath was a hot tickle that whipped arousal higher. "Just admit it. Admit you can't stay away from her."
He couldn't, but that didn't matter. Rachel had a choice between the man who'd shattered her heart and the hero who'd do anything to put it back together. If she really wanted Ace, she'd have ended up in his bed, riding his tongue to an orgasm as hot as the one she was headed for now.
But she hadn't. She'd asked for time. She'd run away. "Who says it's up to me?"
"Isn't it?"
"Look at what she's wearing." It couldn't be a coincidence, not after last night. Thick black ribbons crisscrossed her torso, dragging the eye down to the lace-edged panties secured at her hips with more satin. "Last night, I told her you like ribbons."
Cruz laughed, low and rough, and his hand slipped down to the middle of Ace's back. "Did you whisper it in her ear nice and dirty, like this?"
Nothing he said would ever be as dirty as this. Casual filth tumbled from Ace's lips, waking or sleeping, because it was fun and easy and pretty fucking effective at scaring away nervous virgins looking for Jared's specialty--tender sexual awakenings. His dirty words came cheap.
Cruz's were precise, each one slamming home with the impact of a hundred of Ace's, and doled out in servings so small you were ready to beg for the next taste. But Ace didn't beg. He taunted, though it was mostly bluster now. "You think this is dirty?"
Any answer he might have made was swallowed by a roar from the crowd. Rachel had shed her panties, everything but the dark ribbon tied around her midsection. It made her look like a gift as she lay on the stage, back arched, so naked, so exposed--even her pussy was bare, something Ace wouldn't have realized was new if he hadn't had his hand in her pants before she'd taken up dancing.
She was on display, breathlessly, fearlessly vulnerable as she slipped one hand between her thighs. The audience quieted in time for her to part her lips on a long, trembling moan of pleasure, one Ace felt in his bones.
Cruz shuddered, his hand creeping lower to settle at the small of Ace's back. "You don't waste resources on overkill. You focus, and you do just enough to accomplish your mission. Dedicated, effective strikes." He glanced down, his voice dropping to a rasp. "Are you that hard from watching her dance? I'd believe it, but I don't think it's true."
His fingers burned, even through Ace's shirt. "Am I your mission? Or is she?"
"I think it's more complicated than that." Cruz eased his hand beneath the cotton and brushed the backs of his fingers over the bare skin above Ace's belt. "She may be in ribbons now, but she was in leather last night. And she looked like she was ready to let you eat her alive right there in the hallway."
A day ago, Ace would have sworn nothing could drag his gaze from the sight of Rachel with her fingers in her pussy, fucking them in and out with a rhythm he wanted to memorize. But he twisted to stare at Cruz from two damn inches away, and he still had no clue what to do with the dark recklessness in the other man's eyes. He had wanted to break Cruz free of the bullshit he'd learned in Eden, but he'd never considered he might not be up to handling what was lurking underneath.
Fuck that. He was Alexander fucking Santana. He was Ace . He wouldn't get knocked off his feet by some wobbly-legged dominant still fighting to hide his city-boy shine.
"Is that what you want?" he asked, keeping his voice low and seductive. "Rachel, all soft and sweet in between us?"
And then, a glimmer of truth behind the dark eyes and lust. Cruz glanced at the stage, and the hard set of his jaw relaxed a little. "You want to take care of her. You need it as much as I do. This way, no matter the fallout, she'll have someone, right?"
The fallout .
Ace
Similar Books
