Heartless (13 page)

“Still thinking about it?” Aidy asks, lip curled and brow raised. She steps out of her panties, and I swallow hard. Keeping my eyes locked on hers is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

Fuck it.

I work the buttons of my shirt, feeling a throb in my cock when she pulls her satin bra straps down her delicate shoulders. Unhooking it, she tosses it aside, says, “ta da,” and rests her hands on her hips.

“I find it really odd that you haven’t at least tried to check me out yet,” she says.

“It’s not like I don’t want to.”

Her lips curl up at one side. “Have you always been this big of a gentleman?”

Our eyes catch, igniting a spark that’s been waiting all along, and I inhale sharply.

“No.” I toss my shirt aside and work on my belt. Aidy’s eyes fall to my stomach, visually tracing the ripples and curves I’ve stubbornly refused to lose over the past year. Despite my shoulder injury, I’ve done my damnedest to stay in shape, to not lose the body I spent my entire life working on. “Not always, Aidy.”

Her lips purse as she swallows. “Good to know, Ace.”

Without warning, she jumps in the water, splashing me and the edge of the dock in the process. She comes up a couple seconds later, her body bobbing up and down and her palms slicking back her wet hair.

She smiles, does a happy squeal, and then treads water a few feet ahead of me. “Water’s fine. Get that stubborn ass of yours in here before I do something even crazier.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” I step out of my boots and pull off my jeans, and when I tug on the waistband of my boxer briefs, I see her eyes travel to the bulge beneath them.
This
is insane. This
woman
is insane. Taking in a deep breath, I remove the last article of clothing and stand at the edge of the dock, the wood warm beneath my feet.

For the first time in a long time, I don’t think.

I simply do.

And within seconds, I find myself completely submerged. Enveloped in lake water and treading water. When I come up for air, the first thing I see is her smiling face.

Aidy laughs, splashing water on me before swimming closer.

“I knew I could talk you into it,” she says.

“Cocky much?”

“Determined. Stubborn. Not cocky.” Her body bobs up, painted in sunset colors, and the closer I get, the more I see the small ring of dark makeup beneath her eyes. Even still, she’s fucking gorgeous. Lit from within. “Isn’t this the most amazing feeling in the entire world?”

“Winning the World Series is the most amazing feeling in the world,” I say. “Signing a five-year contract is the most amazing feeling in the world.”

“You know what I meant,” she says, swatting her hand before it returns to the water. “Let’s just hope some fish doesn’t swim along thinking your . . . is fish bait.”

“Are you saying my cock is as small as a worm?” I squint at her.

Aidy laughs. “No, no, no. I saw it. It’s like the size of fifty worms put together.”

I stick my tongue out. “Thanks for that visual.”

Her cheeks warm. “No, I just meant . . . it’s not . . . it’s a good . . . I meant there’s no way it could be mistaken for a worm. Maybe a good-sized fish? Fish eat other fish, right?”

“Can we not talk about my cock in this context anymore?”

“What would you like to talk about?” she asks, seeming grateful for the change of subject.

The sound of voices and the hum of a boat engine trails over the water, pulling my attention to the left. Up ahead, a couple of bodies in a small boat glide across the water, headed our way. This inlet is pretty private, secluded from other houses, but it’s still a public body of water, and we get the occasional angler and boaters.

“Shit,” I say as I recognize the DNR logo on the side of the boat. Those men are more than likely Harold and Eddie. I’ve known them for years, as long as I’ve owned this place, and I’m not about to give them a free show. I’d still like to be able to look them in the eyes.

“What?” Aidy asks before following my gaze.

“Go, go, go.” I swim toward the dock, and she follows. “I know them. Let’s get out of here.”

We reach the small ladder at the edge of the pier, and I climb up first, reaching for her hand as she follows. Gathering our clothes in our arms, we sprint toward the house, nearly slipping as we cross the rocks. The grass beneath our feet feels like heaven as the back door nears.

The second we pass through, we collapse against the wall, naked and wet, smelling like dirt and grass and lake.

We laugh, something I haven’t done in a long time, and when I feel the swell of her breasts and the hardness of her nipples pressed against my chest, I find myself unable to breathe.

Our bodies are touching now, and her back is to the wall.

I’m not sure how this happened. Maybe it was always meant to happen. Maybe it was inevitable. But neither one of us moves, our breaths suspended, and just as quickly as they happened, our expressions fade, replaced with something else entirely.

Her fingertips trail down my arms, tracing the veins that run down the center of my biceps. Her gaze falls to my chest, then lifts.

Aidy’s tongue grazes across her bottom lip, a silent invitation, and I breathe in her earthy scent.

“God, you’re beautiful.” My words are breathless. My heart is hammering. And my self-control? Non-existent. Cupping her face in my hand, I press my mouth against hers.

A
idy

I
’m shivering
, but my body’s on fire.

The warmth of Ace’s body pressed against mine does nothing to quell the tremors making their way through my body the second he kisses me. I’m pressed against a wall next to the back door, his hand on my face while his other rests on the small of my back. My fingertips trace the pulsing veins running down his chiseled arms, and the heat of his full mouth on mine weakens my legs.

My lips part, accepting his tongue. His beard is rough against my skin, but I’m too focused on everything else going on to think much about it. He pulls his mouth from mine, traveling down the curve of my neck. A million tiny tickles send my nerves into overdrive, and I feel a smile spreading across my face.

His hands travel down my body, to the front of my hips, and he separates my stance as he travels south.

Exhaling, I reach down, running my hands through his wet, lake-scented hair.

This wasn’t planned.

None of it was.

The skinny dipping was a spur of the moment idea, a way to get Ace to break out of his shell. He’s been such a gentleman today, that the last thing I expected was for anything remotely like this to take place.

I mean, he showed me to my guestroom earlier, which I fully took as code for: “We’re definitely not sleeping together this weekend.”

“Oh, god,” I say, body shuddering and shivering as the flick of his tongue between my seam brings me back to the present moment.

The sensation of his fingers slipping between my folds and pressing into me in gentle, rhythmic waves sends electric currents through my body.

Ace’s tongue swirls, and his fingers explore, and his beard scratches my sensitive inner thighs. There’s so much going on, I’m nearly cross-eyed and completely unable to form a coherent thought.

But I suppose moments like this aren’t meant for thinking.

They’re meant for doing.

Enjoying.

Experiencing.

My hands brace against the wall behind me, legs locked to keep my body from melting onto this Greek Adonis’ golden tongue.

“You’re shaking,” he says, coming up for air. He glances up at me, his blue-green eyes searching mine. Ace’s hands trail up the goose-bumped flesh of my belly. “Here.”

He rises, towering over me, and takes my hand, leading me to the fireplace. There’s a rug on the floor and a basket of blankets nearby. Ace grabs a box of matches off the wooden mantle and crouches down, striking a match along the side of the box before lighting a fire.

Gentle pops and cracks accompany the warm burst of air that envelops us, and my body relaxes.

Turning to me, our eyes hold. He spreads a blanket on top of the rug and hands me another. There’s an unspoken thing happening between us. An understanding, maybe? He’s not trying to seduce me. He’s not trying to be romantic. But neither of us can deny that something magic is happening here.

“Lie down, Aidy,” he says, eyes directing me toward the warm spread beneath our feet.

He takes my hand, helping me down, and then lowers himself between my thighs. The sweet burn of his scruff against my skin makes my thighs fall wider, and I’m fully opening myself to him.

Over the minutes that pass, Ace devours me like a man starved, his fingers exploring my every delicate place, owning my body with his gentle yet animalistic touch.

Sitting up, I rest my hand on his shoulder. He stops, rising to his knees.

“What is it?” he asks.

“My turn,” I say, chin tucked. My hand slides down to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart, and I press him back.

His gaze never leaves mine.

Lowering myself, I take a good look at what Alessio Amato is packing in its fully engorged state and almost lose my breath.

Much like the rest of this magnificent creature, his cock is not small.

Quite the opposite.

Dragging my tongue up and down the length of his sizable endowment, I slip my mouth around the tip. He fills it all. He fills everything I have. And I’m not exactly sure how this is going to go, but I’m sure as hell going to give it the old college try.

Ace’s moans fill my ear, mixing with the gentle roar of the fire beside us.

I’m more than warm enough now, body still in fire, every molecule of my being lit from within.

After a while, his fingers thread through my hair, grabbing fistfuls and guiding my rhythm. I can tell he’s a man who likes to be in control.

“Aidy.” My name is a whisper on his lips.

I slide his length from between my lips, glancing up past his rippled abs and locking eyes before pulling my mouth off his throbbing cock. “Yes?”

He reaches for me, pulling me on top of him, our bodies pressed together and our lower halves dangerously close. One slight move and I’m sure he’d slip inside me, and I’m not sure either one of us would try to stop.

Ace’s hand lifts to my face, his thumb grazing my bottom lip. I place my hand over his and smile. I want him to know that I enjoy this. I don’t want it to end. I’m having fun with him, exploring his body, forgetting the outside world.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing. Never mind.”

His hands fall to my hips, and I sit up, straddling him. He’s hard as a rock beneath me, and it’s all I can do not to think about how much I want him inside me right now.

Ace’s stare falls to my chest, my breasts heaving with each sigh. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and lower myself until all of me is pressed against all of him once again. I like it here, wrapped up in his warmth, trapped in his gaze.

It feels safe here.

Comfortable.

It’s like everything fits.

My legs pull up along his sides, and I grind my hips against him just to tease for the fun of it. Bringing my lips to his, I taste a hint of my arousal on his tongue.

“Aidy,” he says, sighing. “I told myself I wouldn’t try to do anything with you this weekend.”

“How noble of you,” I say, pressing my hands against his chest and rising just a little.

“I’m not like that,” he says.

“Not like what?”

“I don’t fuck women I’m not in love with. Women I barely know. It’s not who I am. It’s not who I’ve ever been,” he says, his hands gliding down my sides and cupping my ass. “But you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, Aidy. And there’s something different about you. And if I can’t be inside of you in the next three seconds, I’m going to fucking snap.”

His eyes flash, his intentions hardly contained.

Smirking, I grind my hips against his hardness and lean down to deposit another kiss. His left hand drags up the small of my back before cupping the back of my neck and knotting my hair.

“Well,” I say, a wink in my tone. “We wouldn’t want
that
to happen . . .”

He rises, strutting to the next room. I shamelessly watch his ass on his way out, the way the muscles dip in on the sides as he walks.

When he returns, there’s a small square packet tucked between two fingers. The heat between my thighs ignites again, and I feel myself growing wetter by the second as I watch him sheath that monstrosity between his legs. The reality that we’re actually doing this, we’re actually going to fuck, finally hits me, and I begin to lose my breath.

Moving to my back, my body trembles as he positions himself over me, gripping the base of his cock with his right hand. Pulling in a deep breath as he guides himself into me, my body is tense with anticipation.

Ace presses his mouth against mine, entering me with one greedy, slick thrust. For a brief moment, I feel as if I’m going to explode from the inside out, and then it evaporates into magnificent relief as my body melts against his. Exhaling, I relax, our gazes holding strong. He covers me, his body gliding over me, his rhythm building. Ace’s hands run down my side, underneath my thighs, pulling them back so he can enter me deeper. Thrusts growing harder and faster, his jaw tenses and his eyes squeeze tight.

My pussy is clenched around his girth, my hands lifting to his face. I tuck a strand of hair behind his ear and watch the ripples in his chest and arms as his body moves with an animalistic cadence.

Ace’s eyes open, and he kisses me again before burying his face in the small of my neck. Our bodies are tighter, willingly responding to every drag of a tongue or graze of a fingertip. I’m not sure how much time has passed yet, but I don’t want this to end.

I could lie here all night, beneath him, beside a warm fire.

My hand lifts to his face, and his jaw tenses under my palm. He’s getting close. So am I.

With his fist full of my hair, he guides my lips toward his, his hips slamming against mine with a need so fierce it’s both deliciously painful and desperately sweet. The hot friction between us sends me over the edge. My breath catches in my throat, my nails digging into the flesh of his muscled arms until they leave indentations.

With one final thrust, he releases himself.

And when it’s over, we’re stuck together, melded and gasping for air.

Brushing hair from my damp forehead, I glance up at him and smile.

He doesn’t smile.

But that’s nothing new because he never really does.

Instead, he pulls out of me and rolls to my side, slipping his arm around me. My back is to him, so I’m unable to read his face or know what he’s thinking. I’m afraid to ask, so I say nothing.

I simply lie there, next to him, basking in sweet afterglow.

For some inexplicable reason, I think about the journal. And then I recall an entry toward the middle half of the book that detailed a weekend of stolen rendezvous. I mean, there were plenty of those in that book, but this one was different. This one mentioned a fireplace and a bearskin rug, which I felt to be rather cliché and unoriginal at the time, but who was I to judge?

Reaching forward, I tug the blanket beneath us up at one corner and run my hand along the rug beneath us. The fur is soft yet coarse, brownish-black.

Without a doubt, it’s bearskin.