Three months

“Jesus, do you think my order’s going to be ready this lifetime?” Alace cut her eyes to the left, taking in the bleached blonde’s angular eyebrows. The chick flipped her longish extensions and rolled her eyes, making those dark, eye-framing freaks of nature climb even closer to her hairline.

Don’t belittle the natives, she chided herself. Remember the end game. “Yes.” Querida paused a moment, just long enough for the woman to catch the patronizing tone when she finished with, “Ma’am.”

“Did you just say that to me?” The blonde started shoving at the shoulder of the man seated next to her, trying to push him out of the bench seat with no luck. “Did you just say that to me?”

Querida plastered a fake-as-fuck smile on her features and turned to face the woman fully, taking the opportunity while the man was staring in disbelief at his date to give the woman a good look at the person behind the mask. Not something many people glimpsed, but for this floozy, Alace would pull back the curtain as much as was required. What Alace needed was for little miss bimbo to take a hike, leaving the man seated in her section with no one to cushion him from Alace’s initial play. She repeated the trigger word deliberately, knowing the snowflake would latch onto the ageist insult. “Ma’am?”

It worked. Muttering quietly, blondie asked to be let out to go to the “little girls’ room” and the man unfolded, standing and stretching his arms over his head, elongating the frame of what Alace already knew was a six foot and plenty tall piece of man meat she would dearly love to get her hands on. He angled backwards, stretching in more elaborate ways, the hem of his shirt rucking up to give her a glimpse of several inches of firm abs dusted with golden hair that thickened to a trail where it entered the waistband of his deliciously tight jeans. Mouth suddenly dry, Alace sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, releasing it with a pop when he turned to face her, broad grin on his face telling her he had conducted that little performance entirely for her benefit. Jesus God. I’m gonna die and go to hell.

He winked, impossibly full lashes drifting to brush his cheek then lifting over eyes so deeply brown they looked black. Eric Ward folded himself back into the booth, long fingers reaching out to lift the menu from where blondie had tucked it behind the napkin holder. Handing it to Alace, he cut a glance up at her, grinned again, and said, “Too much to expect there’s time to cancel Donna’s order?” Twisting his neck, he looked out the window where the tramp was already climbing into the cab of a pickup, handed into the seat by a thin man wearing a baseball cap. “I’m guessing she discovered a pressing previous engagement in the bathroom.”

Alace took a breath and then settled deliberately into her skin. This was what the past three months had been aiming towards. The two jobs she was working, waitressing at the local diner and bartending at the classier of the two bars in town, both had been engineered to put her in Eric’s path.

Querida shrugged and grinned, threading the line between flirtatious and smug. “Order should be up in five, sorry, sugar. Too late to cancel.” She hesitated and then informed him, “You’re my last table.”

Eric tipped his head back, eyes doing a down and up sweep. “Is your name really beloved?”

“That or dear, depends on who you talk to, and yeah. My ma had a funny sense of humor.” She shrugged again, using the motion to lift her breasts, watching heat hit his eyes as he focused on the shifting flesh behind the bodice of her uniform. “She said it was the drugs.”

As she knew it would, that pulled his attention back to her and away from the girls. Pity, they always like being a man’s sole focus. “Drugs?” As someone who voluntarily stood-in for the local guidance counselor at the high school as a second, unpaid job, she knew he would be sensitive to those kinds of problems and the wreckage left behind.

“For the labor, silly man.” A bell dinged behind her, and she twisted, seeing two plates of food on the pass through. “Your order’s up. Hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m your last table, right? That means you’re off work now?” Querida turned back to face him, recognizing his intent expression as interest in more than just her tatas. Good. It’s about fucking time. She nodded as the bell dinged again. “You hungry, beloved?”

Querida kept her gaze locked with his, giving him a glimpse of her very real interest as she nodded. “Starved.”

Two hours later, they walked out of the diner, arm in arm, strolling towards where his SUV was parked. Alace couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this close to someone. Probably never. The realization hit her, and she stumbled. Eric wrapped an arm around her waist, letting her find her feet again naturally. Caring came so easily to him. Even the stories she’d teased out of him tonight about the women she’d seen him with were sweet. Not a disparaging word about any of them, even the ditzy blonde Donna who had ditched him.

“You sure it’s not out of your way?” She pressed the same question she’d already asked twice. Eric had offered to take her home, and she knew for a fact her small, furnished apartment was the exact opposite direction from his house. “It’s no trouble?”

“Beloved.” He hadn’t stopped calling her that, even when Querida had offered up other diminutives like Rita. “I want to.”

The damned truth was he probably did and, given her unbridled interest, likely expected more than she’d be willing to do tonight. This would be a long job, and Alace anticipated spending another eight to ten months in town. That would take her through the job and give her six weeks on the other side for any suspicion to settle out. Doesn’t do to kill and run. Cops always suspect the stranger who immediately decamps. Capturing Eric’s eye was part of the plan, sure, but she needed him well and truly hooked so she could use the relationship to not only kill suspicion when all was said and done, but more importantly—to get close to his father.

The father, Amos Ward, was her mark. Regg followed a lead she’d picked up from a news article and managed to dig up a steamer trunk full of old skeletons about the man. Stories passed down from friend to friend, all circling the Colorado senator who liked abusing interns. Present tense. His body of power so great he felt his usage of their bodies warranted. Bought and sold for a line on a resume. How a man as decent seeming as Eric could spawn from trash like Ward was a conundrum that had kept her up at night. And isn’t life just the damnedest thing? It was a question for the ages that someone as truly useless as her own mother could birth Alace and someone as deeply twisted as Ward could have given Eric to the world.

“Okay.” She smiled up at him, tipping her chin slightly more than was necessary, inviting him in, and watched his eyes dip closed as he accepted her invitation. A soft touch of his lips against hers was followed by a tightening of the arm at her waist, then a second, less tentative brush. Her steps faltered, pulling him to a stop, and he swung her around to face him, lifting one hand to thread his fingers through to the back of her skull. Gripping gently and tipping her head to the side, he came back for more, the touch transforming from a caress to a kiss in the space of a breath.

A spark she didn’t expect ignited between them, and before Alace could think, she’d risen to her toes, seeking more contact as he deepened the kiss. Delicious. He tasted of chocolate and coffee, dark and sweet. His silken tongue traced the curves of her mouth, his rasping murmurs begging an entrance she could no more deny than refuse her next breath. Once opened to him, he swept in, the touch velvety soft as it stroked along hers, spreading the taste of him throughout her mouth. Lips moving against hers, he explored what she’d given him, and his groan of delight rolled through her as she tangled her tongue with his, giving and taking everything he wanted.

A heartbeat later and he broke away, burying his face against her neck as his arms wrapped her up, holding tight. He breathed deeply and groaned again. “Jesus, you smell as great as you taste, Beloved.” The accent on her name was unmistakable, shouting to the world that from a single kiss, he intended to have so much more of what he’d just taken.

Alace stood in his embrace, stunned, swallowed whole by the desire thrumming through her veins. She rolled her head, plastering her cheek against his chest, hearing as well as feeling the thudding of his heart as arousal made her wet and aching between her legs. Her erect nipples teased by the touch of fabric were two distracting sources of electric stimulation playing on her nerves, working in perfect time with the demanding throb of her clit. Everything orchestrated to bring her to her knees, and she wanted that. Wanted to be prostrate before Eric, take his cock in her mouth to pay homage to this thing she could never have. Arousal and desire, need and lust were all part of it, but the sense of coming home as she stood there in his arms was overwhelming. Not for me. Never for me.

“Querida, say something.” Eric’s whisper sounded like a plea, and she had a moment to wonder what he wanted, but then as if he were a genie and she’d wished for clarity, he handed everything to her. “Jesus, baby. Tell me that was as good for you as it was me.”

“Yeah,” she set the word free on a silent exhale, knowing he’d still heard her when his arms tightened.

“Come to my place.” A request he didn’t expect to be denied, and she didn’t want to. God, no. But there was the plan, and then there was this, leaping off the cliff at low tide without knowing the map of how things could go wrong. Jumping off this cliff right now could have her plans wrecked among the rocks, or worse, have her settled into a role that would never bring Ward’s justice to his doorstep.

Alace shook her head, forcing the action from a painful place deep inside. “I can’t.”

“You were here just now, right?” His arms relaxed slightly, and he bent back at the waist, angling his head to look down at her. He wants this. “You kissed me just now? Kissed me like that?”

Cock tease, her mind whispered, and she silenced it harshly. “Yeah, Eric. I’m still right here.” Like father, like son. She wanted that thought gone, rejecting it as all signs pointed to the untruth of the statement. Nothing he’d shown her tonight, or even in her research, would lead her to think him like the elder Ward.

“Then you know how good that was. Come home with me.” He gave her a little squeeze and a shake, as if he could rattle loose the inconsistency he sensed. “Best kiss I’ve ever had, Querida.” Leaning down, he brushed his closed lips across her cheekbone, then whispered in front of her ear, “Beloved.”

“Best kiss?” The tone of disbelief sounded rank to her own ears, painful as sandpaper across fingertips, scrubbing all identity away for a few short moments. She knew it was good and expected the kiss would make his short list of really good ones. Hell, it rocketed up to her top spot easily. “Ever?”

He nodded, the scruff of his five o’clock shadow just enough to make sure she knew it was a man who held her. Hair tidily trimmed, Eric was someone who faced the world clean shaven, nothing to hide, but now, after spending hours with her, he was more himself than she’d ever seen him. “Baby.” Hot breath fanned across her ear as he murmured the endearment, one hand dipping to flatten against her low back, pulling her close. His jeans and her uniform skirt did nothing to hide the rigid erection that lay hot against her belly. “Never had anyone do that to me with a single kiss.” Alace smiled, and he must have felt the movement because his lips drifted to her jaw, working down the column of her throat. “I want to know what else you can do to me.”

A thin sheen of sweat covered her skin, chasing goose bumps along the bones of her spine. He wanted to know what she could do.

I can kill you fifteen different ways with just my hands and the clothing on your body. I can dispose of you in three locations I’ve already scouted, all within a five-minute drive. But, you are not my mark.

Ardor cooled, Alace pulled Querida back into place in her mind. Time to set him on his heels. “I can pay for my dinner.” Her flat statement had the expected effect and his arms loosened as his head came up.

“What? No. That’s not what…” She kept her head angled down and away, avoiding his expression so she wouldn’t feel quite as guilty. “Querida, that’s not what I mean.”

A noncommittal “No?” was the best she could do, because she still wanted him. A longing bleeding through her that was so fierce it hurt to breathe.

“No.” Adamant, he rattled her again before letting his arms fall away. “Is that the kind of guy you think I am?”

Chin down, she asked, “Are you?” He made a gruff, anguished noise in his throat and slipped his hands around hers, lifting and holding them against his chest.

“Look at me, Querida.” Chin lifting in a rush, she stared into his eyes, daring him to tell her the truth. Are you your father’s son? “I am not like that. Whatever you're used to from whoever made you feel that way, I'm not him, okay?" He shook his head, fingers tensing around her hands, his tight grip dancing the edges of pain. “I would never think a woman owed me anything for a meal. Your company was more than enough. In fact, I think I owe you. I’ve never met anyone quite like you, and I just got…carried away.” He leaned closer, pressing his lips to the tip of her nose for a moment, in a gesture that was far more endearing than it should have been, then pulled back and whispered a truth that shone in his brilliant eyes. “No lie, though. Best kiss I’ve ever had.”

Gaze still locked with his, she let him see through to the honesty of her words when she admitted, “Me, too.”

He smiled, the edges of his mouth curling up, eyes crinkling at the corners, and she got to watch as his gaze warmed, the color of his irises deepening to that of a rich whiskey. “Tomorrow night. Let me take you out.”

“I work tomorrow night. At the bar over by the steakhouse.” He already knew she was employed there; she’d served him enough stout beers to cement the association.

“Then that bar was just guaranteed a filled stool for the duration of your shift.” He stared at her intently, lifting her fingers to press his lips against her curled knuckles. “I’ll be there.”

Without another word, he turned and guided her to his SUV, opening the door for her as if it were something they’d done every night for years. He waited for her to buckle in, then leaned close and pressed a final soft kiss to her lips before closing the door.

Parked in front of her apartment, he halted her hand as she went to open the door and shook his head. She smiled, but waited, content to let him be the one to hand her out of the vehicle. In front of her door, he paused while she unlocked and opened it. Then he reached out a hand to pull it nearly shut, making a silent statement that he expected to stay on this side of the entrance.

Hand to her cheek, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. As it had before, the kiss started as a slow slide and then flared out of control the moment the attraction between them blazed to life. Heads angled back and forth, his mouth slanting over hers again and again until Alace scarcely recognized her own moans. Eric had one hand at her waist, the other threaded through her hair and holding her close. Alace’s arms were twined around his neck, pulling him down as she rose on her toes, back arching with the movement, pressing her closer.

Tongues tangling, that dark flavor she was coming to crave flooded her senses, the scent of his spicy aftershave mixing in the air with the smell of arousal, teasing her to take the kiss just a little farther. Each breath pushing past the next marker and into unmapped territory until he pulled back on a rough groan and once again buried his face against her neck, lips working against the skin there. “Jesus, you taste so fucking good.”

On a sobbing breath, all she could manage, Alace told him the truth, “You taste dangerous, but it’s addictive.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Querida.” Nuzzling her neck, he got her to lift her chin so he could capture her lips again momentarily. “Beloved.”

“See you tomorrow, Eric.” Pulling away, she backed into her apartment and watched as he reached out, knuckles going white as he gripped the doorknob and pulled the door shut. Her inside, him outside. A thud rattled the door, startling her, and she called out, “You okay?”

Voice closer than she expected, Eric responded, “Yeah. Just…can’t quite walk yet. You know?”

“Yeah.” She turned, leaning her shoulders against the door, angling her head to ask, “You want to come inside?”

“More than my next breath.” His answer was immediate, and she was already reaching for the handle when his words stalled her motion. “But, I’ve got a promise to keep.”

“A promise?” He hadn’t promised her anything other than he’d show up at the bar tomorrow night.

“Yeah. I promised you I’m one of the good guys.”

Alace smiled as she shook her head. “Already proved that, Eric.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that you need more convincing.” The door creaked, the wood bending under his weight as he pushed off the surface. “Good night, Querida.”

“Night, Eric.”

“See you tomorrow, Beloved.”

Well, shit. That wasn't supposed to happen.

***

Alace sat on the edge of the bathtub, hands smoothing inexpensive lotion over her skin, the soothing scent of vanilla teasing memories out of hiding. This was the same kind of lotion she’d used five years ago.

That was one of the more reassuring things about the life she’d chosen to lead. How things and events cycled around, all of them wobbling out to the horizon at one point to then circle back close enough to touch. For a moment, the phantom calls of a midway barker sounded in her ears. “Round and round she goes, folks. Where she stops, nobody knows.” Sure as fuck not me.

She cinched the towel tighter and bent at the waist, reaching for the back of her leg, ensuring she covered every inch of skin still soft from the hot shower. The carnival hadn’t been the worst job she’d ever worked to do a gig. There’d been so many more terrible things she’d seen over the years, skimming a bit of money off people who came there for that exact reason didn’t even register as wrong. Malleable morality.

And that, my friends, is one of my least favorite things about…everything.

Alace wasn’t stupid, not by a long shot. Regg had told her once that he reckoned her IQ was even higher than his, a compliment from a card-carrying member of Mensa. She snorted a laugh. I’m smarter? He was the one who lived in the world he made, able to keep family and friends no matter his job simply because he wasn’t her.

Being smart enough to see the next move clearly, as if it were drawn in neon lights, simply meant she stayed ahead of anyone looking for someone like her. It also meant she had enough leeway in her head to allow for an easement system. The insignificant culling of money from a target on the midway was such a far cry from what she’d done to Cecil, Cynthia, Donovan, Trey, Randall, Nick, Jack, Mike—Alace pulled her memories up abruptly, firmly stopping the recital of names before she ran through them all.

Reaching for the bottle of lotion, she lifted it and then felt her belly drop as it unexpectedly slid through her fingers. Reflexes kicked in and her hand clamped down tightly, too tightly. Even as she stopped the bottle’s fall, she caused an eruption of lotion to jet out the top, splattering up the mirror. With a sigh, she set the bottle down and stood, letting the towel drop to the floor. Turning her back to the mirror, she leaned until her shoulders touched the cold surface, hissing at the chill that settled into her skin. Sliding sideways, she used her body to gather as much of the lotion as possible, grinning at the smeared mess left behind. “Always have a backup plan.”

Later, mirror properly cleaned and nightgown donned, she settled on the couch with her laptop open on the coffee table. Movie app launched, Alace leaned backwards then froze at a pounding on her door. She’d made no friends in town, other than Eric. Her landlord knew her, her bosses knew her address. That was it. She didn’t get close to people without reason, and she hadn’t had reason yet. Padding silently towards the door, she looked through the peephole then jerked backwards in surprise.

Opening the door, she only had time to say his name before his mouth was on hers. “Eric.” She barely heard the door settle into the frame over the pounding of blood in her ears, the rasp of his breath gusting across her lips. The sweep of lust carried her into his arms, pushing tight, the buttons on his shirt rough against her breasts through the thin fabric of her gown. “God.” Dizzy, her senses were teetering on the brink, and it felt as if she couldn’t get enough breath, sounds of her forgotten movie playing in the room.

“I went home, swear I did.” The words were muttered against the skin of her throat when he broke the kiss, both of them breathing hard, as if they’d run a race. “Tried to stay away. Tried to wait. Kept telling myself tomorrow. Wait for tomorrow. Couldn’t get the thought of you outta my head, Querida. Needed another taste, baby.” Lips grazed the soft skin behind her ear, sending a shiver up her spine. Rich and low-pitched, the words rasping against any resolve she’d been holding. “Gimme a taste.”

She opened for him again, how could she not when he’d asked so sweetly? His tongue plundered the depths of her mouth, sweeping and tracing the tip of her own before stiffening to thrust inside again and again. His hands rested on her hips, fingers curved and locked into her flesh, holding her close. Eric groaned when she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, her other hand slipping up to cup the back of his head, giving herself to the contact, the kiss, the demands he made of her. He’d had to bend low, their height difference highlighted by her bare feet, and when he made to pull away, she rolled far up on her toes, needing just another moment more.

“That enough to hold you?” As breathless as he was, she let her eyes slowly open to see him staring down at her. He was silent for a moment, then shook his head, dipping close to press a gentle kiss on her lips. “Now?” she whispered against his mouth, shivering when he captured her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently. Tease. He shook his head again but let a lazy smile curve his lips. She loved seeing how it hit his eyes, turning them dark and sweet. Jesus, just the way he tastes. Alace steadied herself with a hand on his arm and one on his chest, lifting to her toes a final time so she could pepper the corners of his mouth with kisses. “Now?” He shook his head again, and she grinned. “It’s a stubborn need, huh?”

“Yeah, baby. It is.” Now that their breathing was back under control, he looked a little chagrined. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

Alace looked into the face of a sweet man, a kind man. A man who may know what his father had done, but probably didn’t understand the extent of the depravity. She looked into the face of a man who’d met the woman made for him and knew it. Met his soul mate, feasting on her words and lips until he was drunk with lust and still backed away when she told him to. A man who held that resolve as long as he could. She glanced at the clock, then smiled at him. That resolve lasting nearly five hours before he returned to the source of his addiction. “No, Eric. You didn’t scare me.”

Soul mate. Something she’d believed in her whole life but never expected to find for herself. Sometimes the people who sourced her funds were soul mate to one of the wounded ones. Those were the jobs that broke her heart. She knew they’d do anything to bring their loves back to life. Forgive any transgression. Can I have this for myself? She’d never thought it possible.

“I should go,” he murmured, taking a deep breath. In that moment everything rode the blade, the edge along which she lived her life. She could let him go and the next time she saw him, pretend it hadn’t happened quite this way. Play at coy, flirt until he wondered if that was all it had been. It’s what Regg would tell her to do. Fuck, it’s what her gut was telling her to do, and that gut was seldom wrong.

Still. What if she were wrong? He’d be fine, a gentleman, untangling himself from her grip with grace if asked. She’d be fine, eventually. Never the sort to cling, she’d close the door after him as she had once already tonight. Fine was how she’d spent much of her life. Fine was a lie, because it covered up the need. Covered up the want. Fine floated in the space behind her teeth, waiting for the chance to assert itself once again.

The length of a breath drawn and released, no more, yet it was at least a thousand lifetimes agonizing over the decision made with a single word. One syllable.

“Stay.”

“God.” He groaned as he crushed her to him, his actions and the sounds he made revealing how much it had cost him to offer, how much he feared being turned away. Alace had the upper hand here, as she always did, knowing so much about Eric Ward.

Thirty-eight and never married, only dated seriously once. That woman dead in a freak golfing accident, struck by lightning on the fourth hole. Par two, bar none. No passing go from where she’d stood. What could have been a ridiculous death, had become one that had weighed on Eric. A good man, he’d studied the stats and extrapolated the dangers. Spreadsheet in hand, he’d set to work, raising enough money to install lightning detectors not only on the public golf course, but leveraging his contacts to force the private course where his Ariana had died to install their own.

He didn’t stop there, but worked his way in a wave around the county, badgering business owners who sponsored baseball and football teams to cough up just a little more cash, and installed detectors at their playing fields. A good man who took his grief and turned it to good, making his girl’s death a legacy.

Committed to his job, he might be the most dangerous ploy Alace had ever worked. He was a prosecutor, the kind of lawyer she wished had been seated at that table in the long-ago courtroom. With Eric’s intelligence and penchant for doing the right thing, the outcome might have been far different. Not in my cards. She hadn’t nearly that quality a deck at her disposal, and an ignorant teen didn’t know she could have asked for a redeal. Regg had taught her a lot, and her studies had sifted more knowledge into her head.

“Baby.” His hand slipped down her back and over the curve of her ass, fingers spreading, five separate brands of heat against her skin. He gathered the fabric of her gown, dragging it up, the skate of lace and satin along her skin lighting every nerve ending on fire. Then his hand was on her bare flesh, fingertips skimming up to the elastic of her panties and tucking under, pushing down so he could grip her ass again.

His mouth grazed her shoulder, nose buried in her skin, strap of her gown falling away. Alace turned her head, mouthing her own path along his neck, working at him with lips and teeth, nipping and tasting. He lifted and pulled, taking her off her feet and bringing her up his torso until his erection pressed against her core. Wrapping her legs around him as best she could, she hung onto his neck with a steady grip, arching back to gain more friction as her hips tipped again and again. His fingers dug in as his head dipped, mouth following the edge of exposed skin along the upper curve of her breast, each lap of his tongue feeling like he strung lines of electricity in its wake.

“Jesus, Querida.” His head came up, and he peered down at her. “What’s wrong?” Shit. Her flinch at the cover name shouldn’t have been enough to bring him out of the spell they were both under, but somehow he had known.

“What do you want, Eric?” This was her thing, something she never veered from. Explicit statement of expectations and a clarity of awareness. Critical for her, and the reason she’d never fucked a man or woman who was drunk, or stoned, or unsure. She couldn’t ever wonder if she was that person, the one they cringed at the memory of. “Tell me what you want.”

Some of her fucks tried to play it off, dancing around their desires in a way that meant they didn’t know their own needs. Some of them turned all hard attitude in this moment, thinking she wanted to be told what to do. Not it at all, poor schmucks. Eric did exactly what she’d asked. He told her what he wanted, what he hoped for, and—thank God—it lined up perfectly with her own wishes.

“I want to go to bed with you, baby. Wanna love on you until I can’t breathe, until you don’t know your own name.” She stared at him, those dark eyes seeming to see everything inside her at once. Taking it in, accepting all of her, feeding back the need he found there. “I want you to make me come, hard. Want you to want that. Beloved, I want you to tell me what you want, too.”

Alace nodded, tightening her legs along his sides as she hitched herself up to put her mouth next to his ear. “Bedroom is the second door on the left. Take me to bed, Eric. I wanna fuck.”

“I can do that,” he murmured, lips moving against her shoulder again as he turned and walked to where they both wanted to be. “Oh, yeah, baby. That I can do.” Her laughter followed them up the hall.

Next morning was a revelation. She’d woken alongside partners in the past, but never anyone like Eric. He cuddled, dangerously close, holding her against his side in his sleep as if they’d been doing this for eons. She tried to ease out from under his arm, and he grumbled an oath, curving his hand around her belly and dragging her halfway under him.

Alace smiled, reaching down to peel his fingers off her waist. “Eric,” her tone aimed for softly scolding, “let me go.”

Single words that altered the path of the universe seemed to be their thing, because he rocked her world with five letters. “Never.” Alace froze, her fingers gone numb, the idea of someone wanting to spend so much of their life with her unfamiliar to the point of terrifying. He doesn’t know what he said, she thought, looking for stable ground. Probably thought she was his long-lost girlfriend. Then he ripped that shield away from her as fast as a thought. “Stay here, Beloved.” Nuzzling into her hair, he found her neck and brushed a slow, tender kiss against her vulnerable nape. “Stay with me, Querida.”

Alace stared across the room at her dresser. She'd been inside other people’s bedrooms before. Hell, Nate’s room had been a revelation, providing her a window into the sentimentality of the man she’d have never guessed at after only seeing him at work. A wooden tray on his tall dresser had held ticket stubs from movies, receipts from dinners out, and two silver dollars he’d picked up from places unknown.

People who lived within their own lives had things like that. They had things they cared about, people they cared about, and things to anchor memories with those people. They had pictures of kids, brothers and sisters, parents and friends. Their homes reflected those lives.

As hers reflected how she chose to live. The top of her dresser was clear, a clean sweep of wood from edge to edge. Nothing there to give her away, and the very barrenness so telling.

Last night had been a wonder. Never before had she experienced closeness with another human on that level. She and Eric had been in sync, each move a choreographed dance spinning them to heights she hadn’t dreamed existed. Fingers, mouth…hell, his entire body had played with hers, teasing and tempting until they’d exploded. The first time he’d pushed inside her, she’d looked up and realized he was holding his breath. So perfect the moment, the clarity of connection, their joining had been as effortless as a clock’s pendulum, swinging back and forth in perfect time for the overall construct.

Alace had taken her time with him afterwards, too. Easing them into a casually sensual petting that gave her opportunity to savor the delights spread out on the sheets next to her. Eric hadn’t complained, what man would, when a woman willingly wanted to worship his body? But once she was done and he finished for a second time, he’d turned the tables on her. A gentle massage had given way to a final round of fucking so fierce she knew there were bruises on her hips, branded there by the force used to pull her back onto his cock. He’d grunted and strained, ordering her to touch herself, instinctively knowing she needed more and not wanting to finish before her.

“Fucking tight, baby. So tight and hot. Wanna feel you come on me, baby. Come again. Get yourself there, Beloved.” Slamming into her with such force she had a hand wedged against the headboard, propelling herself backwards, willingly impaling herself on his cock. “Come on, baby, play a bit, wanna feel you.”

Alace reached back, fingers sliding through the slickness between her legs, parting her fingers to either side of his cock where it entered her. “Jesus, hot.” He groaned, their rhythm stuttering for a moment at her touch. Then he caught up, plunging inside at a faster pace. “So good.” She felt his cock pulse inside her, felt the jerk of it against her fingers. “Get yourself there.” That gruff order was enough, and she moved to conduct business as ordered, working her clit side to side with rapid passes of her fingertips.

Her orgasm was on her no more than a minute later, sweeping her along in front of the wave of sensation, tossing her belly down on the mattress. He followed her down, grunting and thrusting harder, losing himself in his own pursuit of the wave still swirling around her. Covering her like a blanket, braced on an elbow, he gripped her chin and turned her into his kiss. She took him in, tangling her tongue with his as it swept and thrust. Then it was his lips pressed tight to hers, breaths mingling as he plunged deep, holding in place while his hips jerked, harsh grunts making their way down her throat, warming her belly knowing it was her who took him there.

Now it was the morning, and she’d banked on him not being here when she woke. But he was, and from the feel of the growing heat behind her, Eric wasn’t done with her yet.

Alace hovered for a moment, suspended between the delight that awaited her on one side, and a reality she knew would be happy to carry them both to the shore. They’d arrive tattered and battered from the torrent, but alive. For once, the final decision wasn’t hers. There was an unfamiliar ringtone in the room, coming from the floor where his jeans were discarded. Saved by the bell.

“Shit. Hold that thought, Querida.” His arms tightened for a moment, then released, heat from his palm chasing across her bare skin as he caressed her hip and ass. Then even the memory of that was gone, chill flooding the space left behind as he stood. Alace shivered, turned to her back and scooted up in bed, angling a pillow behind her as she leaned over the edge of the bed and scooped up her nightgown. “Hello?”

When she straightened, he was looking at her with a dark frown, phone held to his ear. That look registered as an extreme displeasure, and she froze in place, gut unsure if it was with her, or whatever he heard on the phone. Please, not me.

Her fear must have shown on her face because his expression subtly softened, and he smiled at her, the look in his eyes gentle. His lips moved, mouthing the word, “Beautiful.” Then his dark eyes cut away, angling down to look at the floor. His sideward focus allowed her to look her fill. Handsome in every sense of the word, Eric Ward’s face held a classic ruggedness that drew her in. Not in a lumberjack way, his ruggedness had as much to do with the strength of his jaw as it did the line of his brow.

His body was one a sculptor would kill to have as a muse. Defined everywhere, but with enough softness to feel real. A man who worked out because he liked it, not as a job. A thin mat of hair across his chest, enough to trail her fingers through, narrowed as it traced his centerline. A map she’d willingly followed last night, leading her to the treasure at the end. X marks the spot. Runner’s thighs had spread at her insistent push, making room between his knees for her body, giving her mouth free rein as she pleased. Pleased him, too.

His whiskey-brown eyes flared wide, and he snarled one word. She had another moment of ringing clarity of how it seemed single words would be how they’d break each other in the end. Then she was hanging on every word, Alace in full control, because the word he’d uttered was, “Father.”

Silence for a moment, then Eric’s breath blew out, the sound angry and tense, echoing the strained lines of his neck and shoulders. “No, I hear every word. I am just not going to toe the line this time.” He still wasn’t looking at her, as if dismissing her from sight meant she wouldn’t have to witness whatever rebellion he was staging.

Another angry breath, but this one held a tone of capitulation. “Okay.” His eyes flicked side to side, then lifted and his gaze landed on her face. Belligerence swelled in the clench of his jaw. Oh, shit. “I’m bringing someone.” A pause, his gaze never leaving her. Alace stayed still, frozen like a doe hearing the snap of a branch behind her, seeking out evidence with every available sense to sort out friend from foe. “No, it’s not someone you know.” He shook his head, lips curving down in a mime’s parody of a humorless grimace. “Just put me down as a plus one, Father. If you’re going to force my attendance, I will bring whom I choose.”

She blinked. His head tipped to the side in a question she’d never dare answer. Shit.

“Yes. Have her text me the address.” Eric’s head tipped the other direction, and he took a step towards the bed, gaze sweeping her clothed and covered body like a physical touch, heat raking her in its wake. “I cannot say the same.” His chin lifted and he barked a sharp laugh, the edges fraying painfully. “I’m pleased to know I fulfill that expectation, at least.” Without another word, he disconnected the call and dropped the phone, abandoning it on the floor and crawling up the bed on his knees.

“Don’t know why you got dressed,” he muttered, hands diving under the covers to locate the hem of her nightgown. He tugged, lifting, and her arms went up, allowing him to strip her. He was still unclothed, and she watched as his cock hardened, surging from soft to hard, arching upwards with jerks and pulses. “I have ideas for so many things we can do naked.”

Alace allowed him to pull her down, prone on the mattress, pillows swept to the side as he hovered over her. “I’m out of condoms,” she lied, needing to slow things down. Alace was not sure what to do with this Eric. An early morning lover, a nighttime cuddlier, and a man who openly disliked his father. None of those were things her research had prepared her for.

He groaned and pressed his forehead between her breasts, one hand lifting to cup a mound, thumb gliding softly across her hardening nipple. “I don’t have any with me.” He turned his head, capturing her nipple between his lips, feeding it into his mouth. “Guess I’ll have to improvise.”

She frowned, not certain she liked the sound of that. Improvising was the downfall of planning, and not something she found appealing. “Improvise?”

He shifted, sliding down the bed, lifting to straddle her for a moment, kissing her belly as he slid between her legs. “Yeah.” He dipped his head, nosing at her mound, the tip of his tongue darting out to lap at her once, twice. She gasped and arched into the touch, whispering his name as he told her, “Improvise.”