Page 31 of Until Ace

Black hair and a short black beard.

Deep-brown eyes that run the length of me.

Wide shoulders and chest.

He’s dressed the same as me, only his outfit screams man. Jeans and a black T-shirt. Said T-shirt is being tested for its durability, since his muscles are stretching the material to its limits.

Flat belly, but bulky thighs outlined by his jeans that showcase their power.

On his feet, he's wearing white sneakers.

“Fuck,” he rumbles, and my eyes shoot back to his.

But he’s not looking at my face. His eyes are sweeping the length of my body so intensely I can almost physically feel it. The look on his face is… hungry.

My breath quickens and becomes shallow. Something he doesn’t miss.

“Fuck,” he repeats, fisting his hands. Every muscle in his body is taut, almost as if he’s ready to pounce.

In response, my mouth goes dry, and there’s only one thing I need to quench my thirst.

“I—” I start to say something—I have no clue what—but I’m interrupted by a muffled scream.

We both turn to the source of it. Beverly and her girls are piled up in her doorway, Ida with a hand over her mouth. Ah.

I don't say anything, just lean more into the hallway, and give them a small wave, but Ace does. He points a finger at his aunt and says firmly, “I'll deal with you later.”

My head whips back to him, terrified by his words, only to melt when I see his face.

He’s wearing the sweetest, most loving look, one I’ve never had directed at me by anyone.

Glancing back at Beverly, I see the adorable one on her face. It’s an expression of exasperation but one that’s also filled with so much love a bystander can’t miss it. Beverly touches her chest with a grin before she looks at me, winks, and closes the door.

“Babe, if you don’t walk out that door so we can go to dinner right the fuck now, I’m afraid we won’t come out until next week,” Ace rasps, sending my already fried nerves into overdrive.

“Right,” I mutter and look at my feet.

“Hey,” he calls for my attention.

“What?” I whisper, looking up as I wet my lips. Seeing me do this, his eyes become even darker, and the look of hunger seeps back into them.

“Yeah, this is not gonna work,” he mutters to himself, sinking all my hopes and dreams of having just one night with him.

Only one night I wanted to give myself to be in the company of a man like Ace Sterling.

A man who can take care of a woman.

Sure, I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing that since I was seventeen. Hell, I’ve been taking care of my siblings too, and have been a punching bag and a shoulder to cry on for my mother.

And I can do whatever needs to be done around here.

No, for once, I wanted to feel special. I wanted a man who would come to my home, pick me up for a date, then listen to what I have to say. Not just parade me around for his friends to see that he’s out with the girl from those car commercials.

I wanted just one night to be someone's focus.

Ace is that kind of man. It’s written all over him. And I know Beverly would tear him a new one if she even got a hint of him not making a woman he’s on a date with—most importantly one she made him take out—not feel special.

But I guess it’s not in the cards for me.