Chapter 33
Ace
Relax.
That word is foreign to me.
I’ve been going non-stop my entire life.
No matter what I was doing, my mother expected the best.
Be better. Do better. Try harder. Work more.
There were no days off.
Then, after my surgeries, I worked every single day, trying to heal and get stronger.
Kian takes my hand and leads me toward the floor-to-ceiling sliding doors.
The sun hangs low on the distant horizon, and when it disappears between the stunning Nevada mountains, we’ll be able to see the lights of The Strip.
It’s the same view from his bedroom. We step outside to the beautifully designed patio, and my breath is stolen from my lungs.
What had been a slightly deserted backyard last time I was here has been transformed into a private outdoor sanctuary. String lights swoop from palm tree to palm tree, creating the perfect peaceful ambiance. The empty loungers are now covered with plush cushions and colorful throw pillows.
Off to one side of the pool, near a built-in gas fireplace that’s already burning, he’s set up a table with two chairs; it even has a white tablecloth. Positioned all around it, glass lanterns with battery-operated candles glow, illuminating the area.
It’s a scene from a movie. One of those that makes every girl go to sleep at night, wishing they could experience something like that… except I’m actually that girl and I don’t know how to breathe right now.
Kian moves behind me, the heat of his body warming me as I stare at this paradise.
“I need to do a couple of things in the kitchen to finish up dinner, so I have the hot tub turned on for you to soak your feet. There’s some fruit and sparkling water over there, too.”
He nudges me toward the in-ground, bubbling hot tub, where he’s placed a cushion on the edge for me to sit on, and right next to it is a bowl of berries and a champagne glass. It looks so fancy.
“You did this for me?”
Kian holds my hand while I slowly ease one foot in, then another, before I sit down. “Angel, this is the bare fucking minimum. I don’t know what kind of guys you’ve been around in the past, but I’d like names so I can rid the fucking earth of them.”
Oh my God.
I shouldn’t find that romantic. Sometimes, I wonder if the mafia is in my blood because a normal woman wouldn’t find it hot when a man threatens to off the people who wronged me. Although who gives a shit about what’s normal? Hell. What’s even normal anymore? As long as it’s safe and consensual.
Safe for me, at least. Obviously not the people he’s threatening to kill.
“Do you need anything else before I go inside?”
Tipping my head back, I smile up at him and pucker my lips, and he breaks into a smile as he squats down to kiss me.
When he pulls away, he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair away from my face, then disappears inside the house, leaving me out here to listen to the sounds of birds chirping and water bubbling as I stare at the stunning horizon.
Each minute that passes, I swear my muscles relax one by one until I feel no pain anywhere.
I could get used to this.
He calls it the bare minimum, but what he doesn’t know is, other than Luciano, I’ve never had anyone give me this kind of attention before. Kian makes me feel like I’m the center of his universe.
Even being the prima ballerina, I never felt like I was the center of anyone’s world.
Until Kian.
“So, you’re hot, and you know how to cook,” I say before taking another bite of steak. “So many talents, Daddy.”
Now that the sun has gone down, the strings of lights, the candles, and the pool LEDs are the only things illuminating the space around us.
And I’m eating the best steak I’ve ever had along with sautéed mushrooms, a salad, and warm, sourdough bread that makes me moan when I chew it.
It’s mouthwatering, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been eating like a starving raccoon in a trashcan full of leftovers.
“Steak is the only thing I know how to cook well,” he says, leaning back to watch me, his eyes sparkling under the moon. “But I’ll learn to make whatever you like to eat, angel.”
My cheeks heat and I look down at my food. Is this man a dream or am I just somehow hitting the jackpot of men?
We talk about all kinds of things while we eat. He asks me about my studio and seems genuinely interested when I talk about it.
“What about your family? You seem close with your brothers. I bet it’s been hard since your dad…” I can’t even say it.
As soon as I learned Kian’s name, I did my own research.
I couldn’t believe the stuff I read. First, they lost their mom to cancer, and then their dad was murdered right in front of one of their casinos.
It’s horrible. I can’t imagine what Kian has gone through just this past year alone.
I kind of get the sense that he’s been the glue holding everything together.
He’s the steady one who swallows his own feelings so he can keep everything afloat for the people around him.
Kian takes a drink from his water glass, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. Then he sits back and meets my gaze. Always level. Always calm. Except when he lets go with me, showing me a part of him I don’t think many get to witness.
“I’ve always been close with my brothers.
They get on my nerves, but we’ve always been a unit.
People know when they fuck with one of us, they get all of us.
Things got rough after my mom died. Cash spiraled, and Xander started lashing out more.
Beckett just did whatever the fuck Beckett does.
Partied, fucked, drank, fought. It’s a draw when it comes to him.
He’s settled down a little bit since he and Caleb became friends.
I think Caleb reigns him in a lot somehow. ”
I listen silently while he speaks, his voice raw and vulnerable.
“My parents were soulmates. It was hard for my dad to pull himself together after she passed. It took him some time, but he made the business and us his focus, and that kept him going until he was killed. Sometimes, when I’m at work until the early hours of the morning, I still half expect my dad to email me to tell me to close my laptop and go home. ”
The sadness in his voice makes me ache for him. I was so young when I lost my father that I don’t really remember him. There are memories of him that are forever stamped in my mind, but Kian had nearly thirty-eight years with his dad. I can’t imagine how he must feel.
“Does that mean I should start texting you in the middle of the night and tell you to stop working and go home?” I ask teasingly.
Kian studies me across the table before he slides his chair back and motions for me to go to him.
Knees trembling like a schoolgirl with a crush, I cross to him and lower myself onto his lap.
He shifts, leaning back in the chair, and pulls me with him so I’m resting my face on his chest, breathing in his intoxicating scent.
“Yeah, Ace. If I’m not in bed with you or deep in your pussy in the middle of the night, you should definitely text me and tell me to get my ass home.”
I breathe him in, my heart hammering. “You want to be in bed with me every night?”
His chest expands, and he strokes my outer thigh along my scar. Even though my leggings create a barrier, I tense slightly at first, but he just keeps gently massaging.
“I’d sure as fuck rather be in bed with you each night than at work, angel.”
We sit quietly for a long time, and I’m nearly asleep when Kian rises with me in his arms.
“Kian,” I whisper as I throw my hands around his neck to hold on. “I’m too heavy to carry. Put me down.”
A low growl rolls out of him as he continues carrying me through the house until we’re in his ensuite bathroom.
“Go pee and brush your teeth. I’m going to lock up the house. I’ll be back shortly so we can talk about you just putting yourself down like that.”
I stare at him in stunned silence as he disappears, leaving the door wide open. I have a suspicion he won’t be happy if I close it, so I quickly use the toilet and go through my nighttime routine.
Kian returns, already changed into a pair of pajama pants and nothing else, and as I watch him grab his toothbrush, my pussy clenches.
He’s a walking lady-boner. I imagine women are crawling all over him whenever he’s out and about on The Strip. I may need to start carrying a cute little knife in my purse so I can slit their throats if they get too close.
I smile as I try to keep from giggling at the thought of doing something like that. Although I just might when it comes to Kian.
We stand at the double vanity, doing something so mundane, yet there’s a charge between us. It’s been there ever since we met. Something I never would have believed could exist for me, except I can physically feel it around Kian.
As soon as we climb into bed, Kian reaches for me so we’re both on our sides facing each other. He lifts one of his tattooed hands and gently touches my face.
“I find it really fucking admirable that you’re using your money to help kids who can’t afford dance classes,” he says.
My heart swells and I blink several times, trying not to get emotional.
“I don’t need all the money that was left to me.
My mom liked to use money as a weapon to hurt people who she hated, but I want to use it as a tool for those who are less fortunate than me.
If I can do something to make someone else’s life better, I want to do it. ”
“Because you’re an angel,” he murmurs. “Too good for this fucked up world.”
He touches me gently as we stare at each other and I can’t help but notice how close I feel with him. How connected we are. Even in silence, it’s like we’re speaking fluently. It’s like my soul has finally found something special and it knows it.
When my eyes get too heavy to hold open any longer, I let them close while relishing his gentle, slow strokes along my skin.
“I think you’re pretty good too,” I whisper.
His lips touch my forehead just before he says, “I’m not. But I want to be for you.”