Craving Francesca (The Aces’ Sons #14)

Prologue

Frankie

H oly shit, he was hot.

I mean, I’d known it intellectually. It was impossible to miss the broad shoulders, deep brown eyes, and perfect ass. But up close? If he hadn’t been kissing the hell out of me, I would’ve been drooling.

Gripping his hair in my fists, I pulled him closer as my back hit the wall. His hands were everywhere. One of them wrapped around my thigh, yanking it up to his hip. The other pulled my hair, curved around the side of my throat, slid down my chest, and up under my tank top. My head was spinning, and I couldn’t tell if it was the tequila—I hadn’t had much—or the fact that he ticked every single one of my boxes.

“In,” he ordered, ripping his mouth from mine as he slid his hand away from my thigh.

I nodded, dazed, as he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and opened the door to his room.

His skin was flawless. The sharp edge of his jaw was covered in a five o’clock shadow, but the rest of it was as smooth and clear and gorgeous. Leaning up, I pressed my mouth against the tendon on the side of his neck. Yeah, he tasted good there, too.

“Fuck me,” he muttered with a groan as he shuffled me backward into the room.

“Nice room,” I said breathlessly, glancing around me as he shut the door quietly behind us.

It might’ve been the most impersonal bedroom I’d ever been in. The queen-size bed was made, and it looked like it had been recently cleaned, so at least there was that. There was nothing on the walls. The top of the small dresser was empty. The floor bare cement.

“You in here to decorate?” he asked, sliding his cut off his shoulders.

“You need it,” I joked. “It looks like a serial killer lives here.”

“Been in a lot of serial killers’ bedrooms?” His lips twitched.

“Only one,” I replied, gesturing.

“I don’t live here,” he said, dropping to the bed to kick off his boots.

“Right,” I muttered, watching him closely as he tugged off his T-shirt. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. That beautiful skin was covered in tattoos.

“You changin’ your mind?” he asked curiously, bracing his hands like he was going to push himself back up.

I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. I’d been doing this since I was sixteen years old. It wasn’t as if I was nervous. From the moment his hand brushed my ass the first time, I’d known that we were going to end up naked somewhere. That kind of chemistry was hard to ignore.

For some reason, the moment just felt…heavy.

“Come on, I’ll walk you out,” he said.

“Not yet,” I replied huskily, pulling my tank top over my head.

He let out a low sound from the back of his throat as I dropped it on the floor.

“Keep goin’.”

“Bossy,” I mumbled, reaching for the buttons on my shorts.

“You like it,” he replied, watching me closely. “Lose ’em.”

My hands paused, and he chuckled, reaching for me. His eyes never left mine as the tips of his fingers curled under the waistband of my shorts and jerked me forward.

My lips curled up at the edges as he deftly unbuttoned them without looking. Brushing my hands over his shoulders, I reveled in the muscles that shifted and flexed as he shoved the shorts down my thighs.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, pressing his lips against the skin just below the center of my bra as his hands slid around my hips, the pads of his fingers trailing lightly over the cheeks of my ass. “Goddamn.”

The moment he tipped his head up to look at me, I crawled onto his lap, and everything sped back up. My mouth found his as I ground down onto him. His fingers dug into the skin of my ass, directing the movement. I pulled the rubber band out of his hair. He unclipped my bra and tore it away. I completely lost my concentration and let my head fall back as my breasts pressed against his chest.

Then we were up and turning. My back hit the comforter a moment before his lips wrapped around my nipple and tugged. Every nerve in my body pulled in tight as I shuddered.

I’d known it would be like this.

My nails dug into his back as he moved between my nipples, biting and sucking. By the time he’d shucked his jeans and pulled my panties down my legs, I was practically shaking with lust. Every shift of his body, every small brush of skin, every heated look brought me higher.

I hissed as he pulled away, leaning up on his knees. The black boxer briefs he was wearing hid nothing. With his hair falling into his eyes and his chest heaving, I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything hotter.

God, the way he looked at me.

“Spread,” he ordered softly, gently widening my knees.

I swallowed hard as his hand slid up the inside of my thigh. His hand covered me, cupping me, before his thumb slid inside, making my back arch. Just that small movement made my entire body flush with heat.

He let out a loud breath and reached for his wallet with his other hand.

“I’m on birth control,” I said as he pulled a condom out.

His eyes snapped back to mine with a frown.

“Put the fucking condom on,” I clarified. “Just letting you know we’re doubly covered.”

He nodded, and I couldn’t stop the sound of disappointment that left my mouth as he pulled his hand away, the calluses on his fingers brushing against my clit.

Curling my arm under my head, I watched as he ripped open the little wrapper. My breath caught as he shoved his boxer briefs down his thighs, and I got my first look at him. He was big. Not run-from-the-room big, but…that’s-going-to-take-some-work big. I shivered in anticipation as he rolled the condom on.

“Doubly covered,” he said quietly as he stretched out above me, his lips twitching.

I arched, bracing one hand on the headboard as I reached for him with the other. My fingers tangled in the silky hair at the back of his head as I lifted my mouth toward his.

“Yeah, you’re welco—”

The words cut off as he thrust inside me.

Everything inside me went silent as I gasped.

“That’s it,” he murmured into my mouth as I clenched around him. “Relax.”

The arm above me was shaking as I struggled to let him in.

Loosening the hand in his hair, I let my knees fall wide again as I tilted my hips.

“Good girl,” he praised, sliding out a fraction before thrusting forward again.

I let out a strangled yell, and he smiled.

It was incredible. I stared for a moment, trying to commit the expression to memory. I’d known him distantly for years, but I’d never seen him look like that.

My heart thundered as he began a steady rhythm, my hips rolling in counterpoint. The skin on my chest and neck heated as I worked toward my orgasm, and I knew I was flushing as red as a lobster, but I couldn’t find it in me to be self-conscious, even while he watched. Everything felt too good. The way his shoulders bunched under my hand, how his fingers pinched my nipple, the way the hair on his thighs gently abraded the sensitive skin on mine. It was confusing and exhilarating at the same time. Unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.

The second my orgasm hit and my back arched, his hand gently covered my mouth, muffling the sound. I didn’t want to close my eyes and miss anything, but it was as if my body was no longer in my control. My legs stiffened around his, my nails dug into the back of his neck, my teeth clenched, and I came so hard that I couldn’t breathe.

A minute later, he groaned against my throat and paused before moving into a smooth glide. My legs and hands were shaking when he pulled away, and I struggled to hide it while he moved off the bed.

It didn’t make any sense. I stared at the large Aces tattoo covering his back as he crossed the room to throw away the condom. The sex should’ve been average. Adequate at best. He’d barely touched me. It was the very definition of a quickie, and he’d barely even grazed my clit.

“You good?” he asked in amusement, turning back toward me.

“Yeah,” I rasped, shoving up from the bed. I didn’t want to move. Every muscle in my body felt like jelly.

He’d already pulled his boxers back up, but the rest of his body was still on display. I wasn’t sure where to look first. His thighs were a work of art. His torso layered with muscle and covered in too many tattoos to count. The hair I’d tangled in my fingers was hanging around his face as he bent over.

I gulped, then started in surprise when he tossed my bra and tank top on the bed.

My stomach sank as I snatched them up and awkwardly, and as fast as humanly possible, pulled them on. Kneeling, I pressed my thighs together tightly as he dropped my underwear and shorts in front of me.

Fuck, I had no idea what to say. I felt raw and embarrassed for some reason. We’d both known what it was when he’d led me to his room. It wasn’t as if I was looking for some kind of happily-ever-after. We were attracted to each other, and we’d scratched a very satisfying itch. That was all it was.

Scooting off the side of the bed, I quickly stepped into my underwear and shorts, pulling them up my hips in one movement. The cement floor was freezing against my bare feet. My hands were clumsy as I buttoned up the shorts, missing one but choosing to ignore it as I slid my sandals back on.

“You want me to walk you out?” he asked casually as he walked to the window and pushed it open.

“Uh, no,” I replied quickly. I hadn’t been so uncomfortable since I was twelve. I just wanted to get out of there. I forced myself not to hurry as I straightened my shoulders and strode to the door. “See you later.”

“Hey, Francesca,” he called, making me pause. I glanced at him over my shoulder. He’d lit up a cigarette and was bracing his elbow on the window, letting the smoke drift outside. “I had a good time.”

It felt like a blow, but I wasn’t sure why.

“It was all right,” I replied with a shrug. “See you around, Gray.”

I left the room with my dignity intact, but the moment I’d closed the door behind me, a lump tightened my throat. I’d been dismissed.

Myla and I were staying in a tent out back while her dad’s motorcycle club had a big party, and I headed out the back door in search of it. Curling up in my sleeping bag in the dark sounded like an excellent idea. I didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone until I had gotten my head right. What the hell was wrong with me?

Sure, he’d been abrupt there at the end, but it wasn’t as if he’d been an asshole. We’d been done. Maybe he’d thought he was being considerate by rounding up my clothes for me. It wasn’t as if he’d told me to get the fuck out—even though the implication had been clear. I was probably overthinking the whole thing.

It wasn’t like me. I didn’t get hung up on the small stuff.

I waved at the members who were seated in lawn chairs keeping an eye on things and shuffled over to our tent, ignoring the sounds coming from the others. Gray and I hadn’t been the only ones to find a little privacy.

Clearing any expression from my face, I bent over and pushed inside the tent, fully expecting Myla to ask me what was wrong—but she wasn’t there. What the fuck?

I looked around. Her shoes weren’t there. Her sleeping bag hadn’t been slept in. Nothing had moved since I’d been in the tent earlier, exchanging my boots for a pair of sandals. Myla had left the clubhouse hours earlier to come to bed. Where the fuck was she?

It had been a mistake to leave my phone in the tent earlier, because it took me forever to find the damn thing in the dark. I tore through my bag blindly, finally wrapping my fingers around it once all the contents had been flung onto the plastic floor.

Where are you?

I watched the screen, waiting for a response.

Hello?

Just got back to the tent and you’re not here.

Myla

Myla

Myla

It was late, and maybe she was asleep somewhere, but she was supposed to be asleep in our tent. That’s where she’d said she was going when she left the party. She wouldn’t have just left without saying something. We didn’t do that shit. If she’d decided to sleep somewhere else, she would’ve let me know. I should’ve at least had a text waiting for me when I got back to our stuff.

Dropping to my ass, I sat on my sleeping bag and waited. We were at the club, a place where we’d always been reasonably safe. There was no need to panic. Even so, worry churned in my stomach. I stared at the phone, my knee bouncing.

Ten minutes later, I climbed back out of the tent and went looking for the Aces who were keeping an eye on things.

“Have you guys seen Myla?” I called quietly.

Their shaking heads were barely visible.

“Shit,” I muttered, stomping back toward the clubhouse. If she’d gone back inside to continue the party, I was going to be pissed. I just wanted to lie down and overthink some shit for a while. That wasn’t too much to ask.

I’d just had the best sex of my life—earth-shaking, life-shattering sex—with a guy whose interest in me had vanished before I’d even gotten dressed again. I needed to unpack that. I also needed to figure out why the hell it bothered me so much and what exactly had made it the best sex of my life, when in reality it shouldn’t have been anything special. Missionary sex wasn’t life-altering. It was the most mundane of all the positions.

The back door was locked, and I cursed as I hurried around to the front door of the clubhouse. I should’ve grabbed a damn sweatshirt. Goose bumps peppered my skin as I rounded the building and jogged toward the door.

Inside was quiet. The music had been shut off, and there was no one behind the bar as I paused in the middle of the room. Someone had passed out on the couch—no, make that two someones. I couldn’t tell who it was, but the hair was the wrong color. It wasn’t Myla. A couple of men I didn’t know were bullshitting in the corner. Everyone else was gone.

“Fuck,” I breathed, looking around. She wasn’t there. Where the fuck was she?

Dragging my feet, I headed back toward the hallway I’d left half an hour earlier. I really hoped that Gray was already asleep. I didn’t want to run into him again until I’d sorted out my head. I counted the doors as I quietly made my way down the long hallway in the opposite direction of his room and stopped in front of a door that looked the same as all the others.

I checked my phone one more time to see if she’d gotten back to me yet, but I had no new texts.

Within seconds of knocking, the door to the room flew open.

“Frank?” Myla’s dad, Tommy, asked blearily. His eyes sharpened almost instantly as I tried to ignore his bare chest.

Seeing Tommy in his underwear was one of the very last things I ever wanted to see, but I couldn’t deny that he was still pretty built. Ew. Focus.

“I got back to our tent, and Myla isn’t there,” I said, all in one breath. “I mean, she’s probably around here somewhere, but she’s not answering her phone or anything, and she said she was going to our tent, so—”

“Myla’s missing?” her mom, Heather, said from somewhere behind the door.

“She’s around here somewhere,” Tommy replied gruffly. “Give me a minute to put my damn pants on.”

He left the door open slightly as he disappeared, but I didn’t follow him inside. I didn’t want to see anything in that room until both Myla’s parents were fully dressed. Grimacing, I moved sideways and leaned against the wall.

“Here,” Tommy said, tossing me a hoodie. “Too fuckin’ cold to be prancin’ around like that.”

“I thought I was going to bed,” I replied defensively, pulling the sweatshirt over my head.

“Myla said she was goin’ back to the tent?” he asked, moving down the hallway.

“That’s what she said.” I assumed he wanted me to follow.

“When was that?”

“Hours ago.”

“Shit.” Pausing at a door, he knocked lightly.

“What is it?” Myla’s brother Mick asked.

Now, here was a man I didn’t mind seeing in his underwear. Myla’s oldest brother was built, and while I normally went for guys who were a bit more streamlined, there wasn’t a single thing that I would’ve changed on that muscular body. Too bad he was married and had been forever.

“What’s up?” Mick asked.

“Your sister’s missin’.”

“What do you mean, missing?”

“She’s not where she’s supposed to be,” Tommy said flatly. “Get dressed.”

A few minutes later, Mick met us in the main part of the clubhouse.

“You know where the boys’ tents are?”

“Helped set ’em up,” Mick replied.

“Go wake ’em.” Tommy looked at me. “You stay in here where it’s warm.”

“You don’t think she’s in here somewhere?” I asked, looking around.

Tommy cocked his head to the side as he thought about it. “Men stayin’ inside have women with ’em, and I doubt any of ’em would want Myla sleepin’ in their room.”

I opened my mouth to remind him that not all the men had women with them but snapped it shut again. I already knew that Myla wasn’t in Gray’s room. Beyond the fact that I’d just left there, he was her frigging cousin.

After the men left, I dropped onto a barstool to wait. Where the fuck had Myla gone? It wasn’t as if she’d driven away—she’d had too much to drink to be driving anywhere. Glancing over at the men in the corner, anxiety raced down my spine. Had she found someone to hook up with? I hadn’t seen her flirting with anyone from the other clubs who were visiting from out of town.

“My daughter is going to be in so much trouble,” Heather announced as she came up behind me, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Geez, honey, have you even been to bed yet?”

“Nope.”

Heather grimaced as she rounded the bar and started searching around behind it. “Jackpot!” She straightened. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” I grumbled, resting my chin on my hand. Tommy and the boys would find Myla. I just had to brace for how pissed she’d be when she realized I’d ratted her out. Normally, I would’ve tried harder to find her before calling in the cavalry, but something felt off about the whole thing. Usually when we partied at the club, the only people there were ones we knew well—tonight had been different.

“So, what were you doing up so late?” Heather asked insinuatingly.

“Nothing,” I replied quickly.

“Because that wasn’t suspicious.”

“I was hanging out,” I said, forcing myself to speak slower.

“Mmhmm,” she said, setting a cup of coffee in front of me. “Anyone I know?”

“Nope.”

She raised her eyebrows and glanced at the men in the corner. “I hope Myla told you to be careful—”

“I know,” I reassured her. “It was nothing. I didn’t go off anywhere with one of them.”

“They’re not bad—not all bad—we just don’t know many of them well.”

“All good,” I said. It felt like my skin was on fire, and I hoped the dim lighting hid my lying blush.

Heather nodded. “Tommy is going to be so pissed when he realizes that Myla just passed out in one of her cousins’ tents.”

“Probably.”

“Oh, well,” she said breezily, grabbing her own cup of coffee. “He’ll feel important for a while. The kids barely need us anymore, I swear.”

“They do, too.”

“Sure, when they want us to babysit,” Heather joked. “I’m not complaining, mind you. That’s the best part of my week. It’s just different when your kids are grown. Boring.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I’m enjoying the kid-free life.”

“You’re young.” She waved me off. “That’s different. How’s your dad?”

“Good, I think,” I said, glancing back at the hallway. Doors were opening and murmured conversations drifted toward us. I turned back toward Heather. “I talked to him last week.”

“I bet he misses you.”

“I think he’s enjoying the kid-free life, too,” I joked.

“You going down to visit any time soon?”

“I don’t—” I turned as a hand landed gently between my shoulder blades.

“What’s going on?” Mick’s wife Emilia asked tiredly.

“Myla’s not where she’s supposed to be,” Heather answered.

“What?”

“She wasn’t there when I got back to our tent,” I explained.

“Well, they’ll find her soon,” Emilia said with a frown. “Titus just woke everyone up.”

“Shit,” I muttered. Myla was going to be so pissed at me.

“They still haven’t found her?” Heather asked, freezing. “I figured Tommy was just outside giving her hell.”

“It didn’t sound like it,” Emilia hedged. “Did anyone double-check to make sure her car’s still here?”

“She wouldn’t have driven anywhere,” I argued as Heather came out from behind the bar.

“I’ll check anyway,” she said, striding toward the door.

Emilia and I sat in silence as women started drifting out from the bedrooms in the back. Heather came back inside and nodded at us from across the room. Myla’s car was still parked outside.

I hadn’t really thought anything had happened to Myla but hadn’t been willing to just go to bed without knowing where she was. As time passed, though, I got more and more worried. Where the hell was she? The men who’d been in the corner of the room had disappeared. The building was quiet as Heather talked to a couple of the other old ladies further down the bar.

“She’s fine,” Emilia told me. Her tone wasn’t very reassuring.

Finally, Myla’s cousin, Jamison, poked his head around the archway between the main room and the hallway. “Auntie Hawk, they found her.”

“Thank Christ,” Heather said, hurrying toward him. She disappeared into the hallway. A few seconds later, the back door slammed shut behind her.

“I’m going back to bed,” Emilia said with a groan. “You can come sleep in our room if you want. I doubt Michael will be back any time soon.”

I smiled but waved her off. If I went to sleep now, I wouldn’t wake up until dinner. Whatever buzz I’d had a few hours before was long gone.

“I’m going to make sure Myla isn’t planning to kill me in my sleep first,” I joked, following her toward the back hallway.

“If you change your mind, I’ll protect you,” she said with a grin as she headed for Mick’s room.

I turned in the other direction and headed for the back door. Outside, the sun was rising and the tents that had been so quiet before were a flurry of movement. It looked like the search had woken everyone up. Cian was standing with Tommy in the center of the madness, and Myla was bawling against her mom’s shoulder.

I met Heather’s eyes over her shoulder. She winked at me and rolled her eyes.

I let out a long breath. Everything was okay. Not great, obviously, but Myla was fine. I glanced back at Cian, who was standing stiffly, his arms crossed over his chest. He was practically vibrating with anger.

Uh oh.

I snorted as I headed toward our tent. They’d finally hooked up, and I’d sent her brothers after them. Whoopsie daisy.

“Hey cockblocker,” Rumi said, intercepting me as I made my way through the maze of tents. He threw an arm around my shoulders. “She was with Cian.”

“I figured that,” I replied, waving my arm in Cian’s direction.

“Fully dressed, thank God,” Rumi muttered.

“It’s cold out here,” I reminded him. “Maybe they got redressed.”

“You’re my sister’s worst friend,” he snapped, pulling me into a headlock. “You know that?”

“Well, yeah,” I hissed, shoving at him. “When you compare me to Lou . Everybody is worse than Lou. Get off of me!”

“Aw, am I messing up your hair?” Rumi laughed, giving me a noogie.

“Are you twelve?” I yelled, trying to tangle my legs with his to trip him.

“You look like shit, Gray,” Rumi announced. “Did you sleep?”

My stomach sank. Of course he was outside. Everyone was outside.

“No.” Gray’s voice was flat, and I froze, glancing up at him through my tangled hair.

“Why the hell not?” Rumi asked, his arm still holding my head hostage.

“Christ, Rumi,” I grumbled. “Let go!”

Gray ignored the question. He looked between us, gave a nod, and walked away.

My heart pounded. For fuck’s sake. If I’d planned on looking cool and collected the next time I saw Gray, that had just gone out the window. I looked like a little kid wrestling with my older and stronger brother. My hair was tangled up in my mouth.

“Rumi, if you don’t let me go, I’m going to pinch your balls so hard you’ll be walking funny for a goddamn month!”

“Such a whiner,” Rumi joked as he let me go and gave me a little shove.

“You’re so obnoxious,” I complained, swiping the hair out of my face.

“Obnoxious? You’re the one who woke everyone—” Rumi looked at me closely. His eyes widened, and his head shot to the side, his gaze following Gray across the grass. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Shut up,” I blurted.

“You’re red as a tomato,” he said slowly, almost gleefully.

“Shut up, Rumi,” I ordered, glancing around us.

“Neither of you slept,” he practically sang.

“I will hurt you,” I ground out.

“You fucked Gray.” His eyes were wide.

“It was fun, and now it’s over,” I replied casually, cursing the blush I knew was covering my neck and crawling up my jaw. “And no one needs to know about it.”

“It’s a secret?” he asked with a huge grin.

“It’s nobody’s business.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so.”

“Okay.” He drew out the word, still looking far too amused for comfort.

“We were drinking—”

“You’re not drunk.”

“I didn’t say I was drunk.”

“You implied—”

“I didn’t imply shit. It was a one-time thing, and there’s no reason for anyone to hear about it.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I can keep a secret,” Rumi grumbled.

“I know you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I didn’t say it was a secret,” I continued quickly.

Rumi pressed his lips together and mimed zipping them, throwing the imaginary key over his shoulder.

“You’re such a child,” I sighed. “And I need to pack up our tent.”

“Need some help?” he asked, his tone changing completely.

I let out a huff of laughter. “I’m just going to grab my stuff. Mick said to leave the tent, and he’d grab it before he left.”

“All right.” Rumi glanced over his shoulder at the men gathered in the center of the tents.

“Go. I’ll see you later.”

“You’re good?” he asked, turning back to me.

“All good,” I confirmed.

“If he’s an asshole, let me know. I’ll straighten him out.”

I smiled. I didn’t have siblings, but the Hawthorne brothers had adopted me the first day Myla brought me home with her. They were mostly annoying, but sometimes they were ridiculously sweet.

“It’s not like that,” I assured him.

“The offer stands,” he said, backing away.

When I got to my tent, I didn’t bother organizing the mess I’d left. Stuffing all of my clothes and toiletries back in my bag, I thought about Gray. He’d barely acknowledged me. The shitty part of it was that I couldn’t remember if he’d always overlooked me or if it was new. I’d never really paid attention before.

Gray was older than us, and he didn’t hang with our group. We’d known each other in passing, and he’d never been an asshole or anything, but he’d never really been on my radar. I’d figured out early that if I wanted to keep things drama free, I had to find bed partners who didn’t have any connection to the Aces Motorcycle club. As my dad would say—you don’t shit where you eat.

I probably should’ve remembered that before I fell into bed with Gray.