Chapter 20 JACE
JACE
I lean against the counter, watching the chaos of the party unfold.
Daisy is darting around, proudly showing off the handmade decorations she and Tessa put together, while Tessa hovers nearby, quietly making sure everything runs smoothly.
I can’t help but notice the way she moves—efficient, graceful, yet somehow effortlessly charming—and it throws me off more than I care to admit.
I grab a slice of cake, taking a slow bite while scanning the room.
The Morgan siblings are laughing, teasing one another, clearly enjoying themselves.
Everyone’s in on it—the effort, smiles, sheer energy of this celebration—and I can feel a tug at my chest. This is thoughtful, personal, and carefully orchestrated.
Tessa catches my gaze for a brief second and gives me a small, almost imperceptible nod, like she’s acknowledging that yes, she did this, and yes, I should appreciate it.
And I do. I can’t help it. I notice the little details—the banners hand-lettered, and the cake decorated with tiny stars that match Daisy’s sparkly eyes.
Speaking of my munchkin, she runs up, cheeks flushed with excitement. “Daddy! Do you see the banner? And the cake?”
I pull her into a quick hug, ruffling her hair. “I see, Bug. You did a fantastic job.”
She beams, eyes sparkling, and I glance at Tessa again. “You pulled a lot of this together, didn’t you?”
She shrugs, trying to play it off casually, but I catch the flicker of pride in her eyes. “Maybe,” she says softly. “We just wanted you to have a good day.”
I swallow hard, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. They’ve gone out of their way to make me feel appreciated. I take a slow breath, letting the love around the room settle over me.
“Alright,” I say, voice low but carrying just enough weight to make them both pay attention. “I think it’s time I officially forgive you two for the hair incident.”
Daisy squeals, jumping slightly in her seat. “Really, Daddy?”
“Really,” I reply, shaking my head. “Tessa, you went out of your way to plan this whole thing. I can’t stay mad at someone who puts this much thought and effort into making me happy.
” I pause, letting my gaze linger on her a fraction longer than usual.
“Even if it means breaking a few rules along the way.”
Tessa’s lips twitch, just the hint of a smirk, and I feel my chest tighten unexpectedly. She’s brilliant, stubborn, and a little reckless, but somehow, all of it works together.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to do something nice.”
I shake my head again, trying to keep my tone light but firm. “Well, you succeeded. Both of you.”
Daisy beams, and I reach over to ruffle her hair. “Just don’t make a habit of dyeing it again without asking first,” I add, letting the scolding slide in with a smile.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Tessa’s eyes flick to mine, playful yet soft, and I realize that whatever tension existed before—the hair, the scolding, my gruffness—is gone. It’s replaced by something warmer, something like admiration. And maybe, just maybe, desire.
Whatever this is between us, it’s far from simple. But for now, I can forgive, and I can enjoy it.
The party runs for a couple more hours. We eat, dance, laugh, play games, and have an overall good time. It’s the best thirty-fourth birthday I could have asked for.
A few minutes past midnight, the house is finally quiet.
Only the faint hum of the refrigerator and the tick of the hallway clock break the stillness.
A few balloons cling to the ceiling, and the smell of cake and food lingers in the air.
Everyone starts leaving one by one. Beck carries a sleepy Daisy upstairs with Quinn following behind him.
Zane has his daughter on one arm, the other wrapped around his wife as he leads them to their cabin.
Dad and Ella bid us goodnight before disappearing upstairs as well.
I stand there in the kitchen for a moment, still a little stunned. The laughter, the music, the candles—it all feels surreal. I didn’t think I needed to be celebrated. Didn’t think I wanted it. But damn if it didn’t hit me somewhere deep.
Tessa’s at the sink, sleeves rolled up, rinsing plates. The lamplight hits her hair just right, soft gold over her shoulders. She’s humming something low, a tune I can’t place. I should tell her to leave the mess for tomorrow, but my chest is full and I can’t make myself interrupt.
“Hey,” I finally say. My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to.
She glances over her shoulder, cautious at first. “Hey yourself. You survived your big surprise.”
I nod, step closer. “I didn’t see it coming.”
Her smile flickers. “That was kind of the point.”
For a heartbeat, the air between us holds that quiet thing we’ve been avoiding—weeks of distance, tension, words left unsaid.
I reach past her to stack a few clean plates, just to do something with my hands.
She moves to the side, close enough that her shoulder brushes my arm. It’s nothing, but it sparks everything.
“You and Daisy went to a lot of trouble,” I murmur.
“She wanted to make you smile.” Tessa’s voice softens. “I did too.”
That lands hard. I meet her eyes, and all the noise in my head stills.
“You did,” I tell her quietly.
The corners of her mouth lift, just a little. “Good.”
The light catches the faint icing streak on her cheek from the cake earlier, and before I can stop myself, my hand rises to brush it away. My thumb grazes her skin. She inhales sharply, not pulling back.
I should step away. I don’t.
Instead, I let my fingers linger along her jaw, feeling the tremor in her breath.
“Jace,” she whispers, but it’s not a warning.
“Tessa.” It’s the only word I can manage.
The moment stretches, filled with quiet and heartbeat. The kind of silence that hums with too much meaning. I lean in just enough for her scent to find me: vanilla, soap, the faint smoke from the candles.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I say, voice low.
“I wanted to,” she replies, barely audible. “You deserve to be celebrated, even when you act like you don’t.”
That cracks something in me. Because she means it. Because she sees right through the walls I keep building.
My thumb slides from her jaw to her lower lip, a small, dangerous movement. She doesn’t flinch. Her eyes darken, fixed on mine.
“I’ve missed this,” I admit.
“Me too,” she breathes.
It’s enough to undo every reason I’ve been holding back.
I step in, close the distance. Her breath catches, her body still for a second before she tilts her chin up, waiting. My hand finds the back of her neck, gentle, grounding.
The space between us dissolves, heat rising, air tightening, gravity pulling us closer.
I close the gap, crushing my mouth to hers.
Her lips are soft and demanding, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer.
I moan low against her mouth, tasting her tongue as she slides her hands down my chest, fingers grazing over the waistband of my jeans.
I grow harder against my zipper. She whines against me, hips grinding forward, and I groan, lifting her slightly to press her against the counter.
The first button of her shirt pops open under my fingers, and I trace her skin with my lips, down her neck, across her collarbone, tasting her, claiming her in little bites.
“Jace…” she breathes, voice ragged, lips brushing mine. “I need you…”
I grin and peck her lips before picking her up and carrying her to the living room. I set her down on the couch, pull her to the edge, and kneel on the floor in front of her. I feel a muscle pop and strain, but I ignore it and focus on the task at hand.
I do quick work of undoing her pants, pulling them down together with her underwear, dropping them next to me.
Lifting her legs to the edge of the couch, I dive in immediately, my lips covering her pussy, sucking her into my mouth.
I let go of her legs and use my fingers to part her vulva, exposing her clit and gushing entrance.
“Fuck, smells delicious,” I groan, running my nose over her pubic hair.
“Jace,” she whimpers, digging her nails into my scalp.
Licking a straight line through her slit, my tongue laps up the juices. “Tastes even better.”
I use the tip of my tongue to draw slow, torturous circles on her, loving how she shakes, her body convulsing under me. This is what I’ve been denying myself for weeks, and I won’t stop. I can’t stop.
Adding my fingers to the mix, I use my thumb to rub her clit while fucking her with my tongue. She gasps when I replace my tongue with two of my fingers.
“Mmh, fuck,” she groans when I add a third finger. “Jace, please,” she begs when I curl my fingers inside her, stroking that tender spot inside her.
“I know, baby, I know,” I soothe, blowing onto her.
She digs her heels into the couch, trying to ground herself, but I want her to come undone. “Let me hear you, baby,” I command, maintaining my pace.
“Fuck. Jace!” she screams, coming all over my mouth.
My fingers halt, but my mouth doesn’t. I keep lapping up at her juices, taking all she has to give, until she begs me to stop, pushing my head away.
“Good girl,” I praise, kissing her pussy before straightening up.
I strip, my cock springing free. “Ready for more?” I ask with a smirk, stroking my hard length.
“Yes, please,” she nods, even though she’s still panting from her previous orgasm.
Picking her up, I set her on the armrest, which is a bit higher, and stand in between her legs. I run the tip of my cock over her sensitive pussy, making her mewl. She’s soaking wet, so I slide in easily, both of us moaning at the explosive union. It takes everything in me not to come immediately.
She takes off the rest of her clothes, freeing her breasts, leaving her fully naked. She gives me the nod to start moving, and I do not hold back. Pushing in and out of her, I reach up to play with her breasts as well.
We establish the perfect rhythm, sounds of us fucking filling the room, not caring that anyone could walk in at any moment.
“Faster,” she pleads.
“My pleasure. Hands on your ankles and don’t let go,” I command.
She does so, and I increase my pace, her walls tightening around me.
“God, Tessa… you’re mine,” I growl, pressing myself harder against her. She bites her lip, grinding. I savor the tight, delicious heat, groaning as she gasps, watching me with fire in her eyes.
She trembles beneath me, moaning, and I can’t hold back. I shatter over her, groaning, losing myself completely as she tightens around me. I ride it out with her, slow and brutal until we’re both panting, sticky, and satisfied.
I collapse beside her, pulling her close, lips brushing her temple. “Damn… Tessa,” I murmur, voice rough, chest heaving. “You’re incredible.”
She nuzzles against me, satisfied, cheek against my chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she murmurs, smirking despite her flushed, messy state.
The party is long forgotten now—the laughter, chaos, balloons.
They fade behind the steady rhythm of our shared heat and lingering touches.
I let a slow grin tug at my lips, thinking of the tension we’ve held back for weeks, and how quickly it erupted, how inevitable it felt once we finally gave in.
And yet I know this changes things. Lines have been crossed, boundaries blurred. I don’t regret it, not even a little, but I need to navigate the aftermath carefully. Tessa and I are a storm, and I can’t let it consume everything else.
Still, for now, I let myself savor this—the quiet after the fire, the way her body molds against mine, the soft warmth of satisfaction lingering between us. And as I close my eyes, I make a silent promise: whatever comes next, I’m not letting her go. Not now. Not ever.