“Yes,” I lie. “Perfectly fine. Why?”
That corner grin of his turns into a full-out smirk. “Really?” he presses.
My eyes lower back to my lap before I look up nervously at the building in front of me. Thoughts race through my head, but in front of them all, there’s one question: what is Ace doing with me, a poor, college waitress? “It’s just … I’ve never seen a house this big before.”
There’s a moment of silence, and for a split second, I feel as if I’ve offended him—though I don’t know how. I glance up quickly only to find that he is apparently waiting for that. Even in the dim lighting, I can make out the expression on his face, full of amusement. “If you think the outside is big, wait till I take you inside.”
All of this seems so surreal, like at any second someone will snap their fingers and I’ll wake up in my bed at the dorm, with this being nothing but a dream. Ace is certainly the type of man I would fabricate in my mind. Handsome. Dark. Dangerous. Completely and utterly focused on me.
“Wait here,” he states when I unbuckle my seat belt and reach for my own door. I pause, ready to tell him there’s no need to open my door every time, but before I can get the words out of my mouth, he’s already out of the car—the driver’s side door closing with a sharp sound. I watch as he stalks around the front of the SUV and even debate opening my door before he gets there, but I think better of it.
“Here you are,” Ace says as he pulls the passenger side door open and holds out a hand, looking at me meaningfully. With slow and careful movements, I take his hand and let him help me out of the vehicle. Inside, I’m a riot of nervousness and anxious emotions; I feel so out of my element.
The windows are floor-to-ceiling, and as we walk up the steps and into the house together, I get my first glimpse inside. Lights are on inside, making me wonder if someone is here as well? I bite my tongue and consider that a stupid question.
Our hands clasped together, he once again opens the door—this time into a massive foyer. My head tips back, and my lips part. He was right. On the outside, it’s giant, a hulking behemoth. On the inside, it feels even bigger, like a wide space decorated perfectly for the man who inhabits its inner walls.
Ace’s home is sleek and modern, with a homey feel. As he urges me farther into the front hall and then even deeper into his domain, I can’t help but stare around in amazement.
Ace releases my hand and closes the door behind us before he nudges me toward a particular open doorway and into a living room that’s more than quadruple the size of my meager dorm room. Turning just inside the room, I note that it’s also connected to the kitchen through an open floor plan. The grand space made that much bigger by the lack of walls separating it.
“It’s beautiful…” I murmur under my breath, almost afraid to disturb the spell that seems to have fallen over me. “I bet the sunrise is magnificent.” I can picture it. The light shining in through the windows, slowly inching across the walls and floors until it radiates through every crevice between, driving away the darkness.
Footsteps echo into the open space as Ace walks over to a bar that’s situated near a huge floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. “It is, and perhaps if you decide to spend the night, you’ll see for yourself just how amazing it is.” The grin he gives me is contagious, and I can't help but return his smile. I continue to look around the room and peer into the kitchen almost curiously. The furniture is hardwood and leather, giving it a very manly feel.
“Here.” Ace interrupts my thoughts as he presses a wineglass into my hand. The crystal is filled with a dark red liquid, while his own glass is filled with something amber-colored—most likely whiskey.
I take a hesitant sip of the wine. It’s bitter yet sweet too in the taste that follows after I swallow. I find that I quite like it. Feeling his attention on me as my lips press to the glass for a second sip, I glance up and meet his gaze.
“I’m surprised that you decided to come tonight,” he says, tipping his head back as he places his own glass to his lips and takes a swallow of his whiskey.
I cock my head to the side and give him a smile.“Why is that?”
“You remind me of a skittish kitten,” he answers. Ace’s eyes are on me, but I have the feeling he’s not seeing me so much as he is assessing me. What is he looking for? I wonder.
“How am I kitten-like?” I ask.
“You’re afraid,” he says, his eyes trailing down my face and over my throat to where my breasts push against my clothes. I flush, remembering how he’d covered them with his cum just a short while ago. “Timid,” he finishes.
I scowl, both embarrassed and unsure of a response. “So, you’re saying I’m a cat you brought home?” I reply, hating the way my voice sounds rougher, almost irritated by that fact. I don’t want Ace to think of me as a stray.
A burst of laughter passes his lips, startling me enough to turn back to him once more. “No.” Ace shakes his head, his lips still tilted up as he swallows the rest of his whiskey and sets his glass down on a nearby end table. “You’re so much more than that.” Despite the fact that my glass is only half empty, he reaches forward and takes it from my hand before setting it down on the table next to his own.
More heat rises in my cheeks, and my pulse spikes. He turns his attention back to me and leans in, bringing our lips so close that I can practically taste the whiskey he just drank. The smell of spice and alcohol on his breath tickles my nose. His nose brushes against mine gently, but it’s his eyes that hold me captive. Spellbound. Ace lifts his hand and strokes my cheek, turning until his palm is cradling it. For such a rough man, his hand is smoother than I expected, and I find myself leaning into his touch.
Fire ignites low in my belly, crackling and expanding. It’s happening again—Ace’s powerful ability to make me lose my reasoning.
“I want you,” he tells me in that low, gruff voice of his, “stripped and exposed. At my mercy and in my bed.” Soft little pants escape me. I swallow reflexively even as my lashes flicker, dragging against his skin we’re so close.
The air in my lungs grows tight. There is something to be said for the straightforward approach from a man. It leaves little room for interpretation. He’s telling me what he wants, what I’m here for. The only question left is … is this what I want to do? Do I want those things too? Looking up at him through my lashes, I recognize his want and need for me. It pulses with its own heartbeat, making his irises darken with desire and his pupils dilate.
“Is that what you want, Cara?” he asks. “Do you want me to fuck you? To own your body, to worship you in a way that I’m certain no man ever has before?” The deepness of his voice wraps around me, careening me toward the edge.
My nipples harden painfully and strain against the thin fabric of my bra. Impulse drives me forward, and instead of replying, I press my mouth to his. My lips flutter against his, the air around us sizzles, and for one single second, he is still as a statue.
I think maybe I’ve made a mistake in kissing him until I feel his hand leave my cheek and his fingers spear through my hair. He cradles the back of my head, holding me in place so he can deepen our kiss. A raging inferno of emotions swirls inside me, and I’m consumed by this man.
He’s bad and dangerous, but there is something so protective about him. I don’t understand why I’m attracted to him the way that I am. All I know is that each kiss, each touch is addictive. If I’m not careful, I think I might lose myself to this dangerous man.