Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3 (13 page)

I’m becoming slightly annoyed. “What’s wrong with it?”

Taking out the guitar pick pendant and chain, he holds it in his palm and studies it. “I told you I loved it already, so what do you want me to say?”

“I want to know why you look like you’re about to lose it. I can see you’re holding something back.” I raise his pillow to my face, taking in his scent that covers it. “Oh, God, you hate it.”

He turns back to me again, grinning like a small boy, and in his face I see two things, one being orneriness. Something’s up in the joke and I’m not in on it.

Fine. Whatever.

Two is honesty. His eyes are glowing with a pride I’m not sure of. Maybe he’s proud of me for finding something so personal and laced with meaning? I don’t know. Either way, the smile on his face is not one I’ve seen in a very long time, if ever, from him. I’m happy to put it there, even if it’s a joke at my expense.

I take a mental note to interrogate the ever-lovin’ shit out of Travis tomorrow, though. I have more musical oldies to torture him with if that’s what it’ll take to get him to talk. Elton John, Willie Nelson, and if he pushes me into further irritation I won’t hesitate to throw some Barbra Streisand in the mix, as well. He’ll talk.

Shutting off the light next to his bed, Ace climbs in without clothes, the towels being abandoned on the bedroom floor. The gift is left sitting on the table next to the lamp. It’s just him and me in the apartment, and it feels as though we’ve done this a thousand nights before.

The dark doesn’t grant me an opportunity to check his mood so as I’m being yanked roughly by my legs into a position on my back, I’m startled and let out a quick yelp before I’m able to form coherent words. “Hey! What are you doing?”

Ace slams his body on top of mine and, without invitation, runs his hands up my sides, taking my shirt with him and quickly lifting my hands. He removes it completely, throwing it next to the towels on the floor.

Sucking my neck as he lifts my thighs over his hips he answers what I realize now is a ridiculous question. “Gettin’ comfortable. You mind?”

As he massages my thigh and grinds his hips into me, I answer. “I do, actually. I’m not showered. I thought we were going to sleep.”

Looking up at me, he laughs quietly while tracing small kisses down my chest and ending at my waist. “You tired?”

No.
I’m most definitely not, but I had looked forward to watching him sleep. “Yes.”

Using his hands to draw my thighs further apart, he continues to inch his body down mine while kissing my hips, then my inner thighs, then I stop him. “I’m not…”

Looking up, the moonlight captures his face. He looks happy, and I don’t want to ruin his mood, but… “I still have… some of you… inside.” I’m too embarrassed to just say it. I’m being ridiculous. People have sex multiple times in one night all the time. I’m not sure if I should remind him of this or not.

Apparently, he understands my dilemma and finds it necessary to embarrass me. “Cherry, you’re a freak, you know that?”

“I am not! I’m being polite.”

“Polite is shutting up and not making shit get fuckin’ weird.”

I squeeze my thighs around his ears, using whatever strength I have to force him to stop making fun of me. “I was being courteous, asshole.”

Climbing back up my body, bracing his arms on either side of my head for support, he bends down and kisses me long and slow. It’s a passionate kiss, a far cry from the humor he felt after opening the present and the awkward conversation I was leading us into.

Lifting his head, he looks down at me, and at the same time, he licks his lips. “Shut up, all right?”

“Shut up?” I repeat in question, seeking immediate clarification. I hate being told to shut up. It’s rude.

“If you want me to say it, I will.”

“Say what?” I’m lost and already miss his mouth on me.

“I like you dirty, Cherry.”

“What? Why? That’s ridiculous…”
And a little gross.

Interrupting me, his answer is definite. “You’re dirty because you were with me.”

I don’t know how to take this. He must sense my reaction because he continues. “You’re dirty because I made you mine.”

My stomach drops, my head gets light, and my mouth waters. I take a second and frame his face to this moment. I love him so much that my chest actually starts to ache.

Bringing me out of my own head, he leans down and kisses me softly again and again on my mouth. “Did you hear me?”

After waiting for him to stop kissing me, I answer. “Yes.”

“And you understand what I said?”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I don’t know.”

His body tenses. Looking down at me again, I see his confusion and from what I can tell, he’s a little hurt. “You don’t know if you’re mine?”

Without hesitation, I blurt what’s been weighing on my mind for over a week; the entire time he’s known. Running my hands absent-mindedly down his cheek and to his chin, I answer. “You don’t even call me by my name.”

He freezes at my observation. Pulling away, leaving my body completely exposed in the moonlight, he shifts to his knees and sits between my legs in contemplation.

“Raegan,” he says with certainty.

“Yes, Ace. That’s my name.”

Coming back to me, finding my arms and bracing them to the side of my head, he laces my fingers in his as he holds me in place. He whispers, “Raegan.”

My eyes close hearing his voice use my name again. Trailing kisses down my neck, he repeats, “Raegan.”

Entering slowly, pulling out and thrusting back into me, he says again, “Raegan.”

The damning emotional tears that I didn’t realize I was holding in just moments ago are falling at my temples while I look to the ceiling.
Happiness
. I haven’t felt truly happy like this in so long. Although being with Ace over the last year or so has made me happy, this is different. My heart feels this moment. It’s bursting inside, warming every piece of me.

“Raegan,” he says again while letting go of my hands and running his along my neck, my chest, my ribs, and to my back. He tilts me from behind, pushes into me further, and starts to pick up his momentum.

I feel myself start to give in and let go as my fingernails dig into his back. He finishes with me as I do.

Finally, lifting his head from my neck, his breath panting in uneven measures, he looks down at me from above, giving me one word I’m certain with everything in me that he means. “Mine.”

My only response to his declaration is to nod.

I’ve always been his, but hearing him say it, whether it’s offered in only friendship or not, validates then discards any lingering uncertainty I had.

Lifting his head and looking down on me, he asks, “Now you want a shower?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

He smiles wide, being playful and amusing. “You expect me to take you on another date now, don’t you?”

I don’t hesitate to school him on the dating ritual that women find appealing. “And I expect flowers… and chocolate.” He bites my bottom lip to silence me, but I continue without delay. “And wine. Lots of chilled, white wine.”

Still playful but doing all he can to avoid another date, he compromises. “How about another ride on the back of my bike?”

“That’ll do.”

Getting off me, fixing the covers and moving us to a comfortable position, his sarcasm makes another appearance. Quietly he whispers around the room, as if he’s calling for invisible back up, “‘That’ll do,’ she says. Never enough… women.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ace

THE NEXT MORNING, I’m lying in my bed staring over at her through the dawning sunlight as it makes its way through the blinds. The house is still, and her soft breathing is all I hear throughout the room. She looks quiet and at peace. For the first time since she started sleeping in my bed, I can see she’s being left to rest without any interrupting nightmares.

I didn’t sleep much last night, though. I held her until she fell asleep and then thought about what I had done. I was so caught up in the feel of her, the emotions she had triggered in me in wanting to make her mine, and ensuring she felt safe and comfortable that I skipped right over the fuckin’ obvious. I didn’t use protection. For this and so many other obvious reasons, I’m an asshole.

Inside, I know my feelings for Cherry are changing, evolving into something they weren’t before. I love her, there hasn’t been that question for a long time, but I’m unsure if I love her because she’s with me here and now or if I love her for being who she is.

Using my fingertip, I trace the line of her small nose then gently touch her lips and follow down to her chin. Once I start running my finger down her neck, I see her eyes start to flutter open. The blue in them is penetrating, as she looks up at me half-asleep, half-awake, and most-definitely sated.

Bending down toward her, I kiss her nose and she smiles softly. “Good morning, Raegan.”

I watch a shiver run through her as her smile widens in surprise after hearing me say her name. “Good morning. You’re up early.”

“Didn’t sleep.”

Pushing me aside, she sits up on her elbows and looks at me while asking, “Why not?”

“I fucked up.”

Puzzled. “What?”

“I took you last night, twice as a matter of fact, without thinking.”

Sadness quickly blankets her emotion, and she starts to get up. “You… regret…”

Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her back down on the bed and after trapping her next to me, I explain. “No. That’s not it. Not at all, but I didn’t use anything, Rae.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh.’ Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“I can’t have any more kids, Ace. When Greyson did what he did, the doctor told me I’d never be able to carry…”

Interrupting her to avoid the asshole’s name being mentioned in our bed, I stop her from talking. “Fuck, again, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.”

“I’m clean. All the results came back clear, and I haven’t had anyone touch me since, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No. It’s not, and I’m sorry about the other. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“I’m okay. I’ve come to terms with it. What about you, though? You’re no angel, and I’m sure you’ve been with…”

Cutting her off, I reluctantly bring another ghost in our bed. “I haven’t been with a woman since Sylvie, and after she was killed I got checked. I’m clean.”

Now that both Greyson the monster and Sylvie the bitch have been brought up, I feel my good mood waning.

She must feel it, too, as past memories coming to the surface cause her eyes to water. She shocks me with her thought. “I want Decklan back.”

She’s thinking about her son who was left in Las Vegas with her parents. This being the real reason she’s here, not really for me. I don’t have the answers for her. She’s stronger, yes, and from what I can see, she hasn’t been using. “You’ll get him back.”

“Then what?” Her voice is terse, annoyed.

“What do you mean?”

“When I get him back, what do I do with him? He doesn’t even know who I am. I haven’t talked to my parents in years. He’s not a baby anymore. He turns five in a little over eight weeks.”

“We’ll figure something out, but we’re not gonna figure it out today.”

She doesn’t respond as she closes her eyes in frustration. I’m left feeling like more of an asshole, if that were possible, for bringing any of this shit up this morning. I wanted us to enjoy the day together. I had envisioned it as she slept.

Just as her anxiety starts to spike and her emotions start to take hold, I hear voices in the front room. It’s only seven o’clock in the fuckin’ morning, and the yammering women in my life weren’t supposed to be back until later this afternoon.

Thanks a fuck of a lot, Bean. I have a beautiful, naked woman in my bed and you wanna make an appearance seven hours early.

Cherry lifts her head off the pillow and starts to bunch the blankets over her. “Are they home already? What time is it?”

“Yes. Appears they are. Fuck me, they’re early.”

At my aggravated tone, she laughs and throws her head back down on the pillow, still smiling.

“It’s not funny, damn it. I wasn’t done.”

Her eyebrow cocks, but she’s a smart girl and can’t be completely oblivious to my intention. “Done? With what?”

Rolling my body on top of hers, I rip the covers from her, leaving us skin on skin. I kiss her neck then suck her soft flesh quickly before answering. “You.”

She doesn’t say anything but sighs in understanding.

Hitting the bed with one hand, I bounce off her and let out a frustrated, “Fuck!” that doesn’t change the situation, but makes me feel better. Then I move to gather my clothes on the floor. “Go shower. I’ll handle the meddling crowd and meet you in the kitchen for breakfast when you’re done.”

Nodding, she lays back down and smiles.

Throwing last night’s towel at her, she catches it mid-air. I reiterate, “Up, damn it. I’m not dealing with this shit alone.”

“Oh, fine.” Still, she doesn’t move.

Walking to her side of the bed, I look down at her; she’s not intimidated at all by my act of displeasure. “Cherry? You’re not moving.”

“I will once you leave me alone.”

“No way. Don’t trust you. Get up.”

Now she’s getting agitated. Throwing the covers off her naked body, I catch the tattoo under her breast - two bright red cherries hanging from a green and brown vine. Fuck, the woman has a body that I’ll never tire of looking at or touching. Right now, though, we have no time; won’t be long before Sarah starts knocking at the door for the wakeup call.

Standing up, she walks past me without making any physical contact, but it doesn’t stop my greedy thoughts. In my mind, I’m contemplating bending her over with my hand over her mouth and taking her again just on principle, but that’d probably just piss her off. Before I continue to construct a plan, I head to the door and walk out, but only after I verify she’s gathering clothes for the shower.

Cherry

After my shower, I’m standing in the bathroom naked and taking inventory of my appearance in the mirror; the marks on my chest and neck, the redness around my mouth, and my eyes that look rested and relaxed. I look happy, but more importantly, I
feel
happy.