CHAPTER 6
ACE
Quincy shouldn’t be going anywhere with me. Not when you look at us on the surface. I might be young and pretty, but I know how people view the cut on my back and the business we’re in. Assumptions are made about me every day.
But that was true long before I found a home with the Steel Sinners. I have a feeling she understands when it comes to being judged.
There’s something in her eyes that calls to me. Her brown depths have a yearning hope swimming there and I want to fan it into something bigger, something that catches. Something she can trust and believe in again.
Fuck, I’m already addicted to the way she looks at me.
There’s a certain shyness there, which is completely unexpected, but it’s the uncertainty which makes me want to show her what possibility means again. She looks almost lost and I’m not sure what to do with that yet.
I’ll figure it the fuck out though; that I can guarantee.
Even though I can feel Donald watching every step as I lead Quincy out the door, I don’t stop. He’s not going to like it, but can’t do a damn thing to stop us.
My club would annihilate him and wouldn’t think twice about it. When I stop in front of my bike, Quincy’s body tenses under my touch. Her eyes go wide and round as she looks at my bike. When her eyes dart up to meet mine, I can’t help but smirk.
“You had to know there was a bike involved, Hollywood,” I tease her.
Her mouth opens for a long moment before she snaps it closed and swallows hard. “Yeah,” she croaks before her voice stabilizes, her words strengthening, “I guess I didn’t really think about it fully.”
I pull an extra helmet out of my saddlebags, because I made sure I was fucking prepared for this night, and slip it over her head. She blinks up at me as I snap it into place and slide my fingers under her chin.
The way she shivers at my touch has my cock kicking behind the fly of my jeans. He’s desperate to be buried inside of her.
But I know I need to take this slow. Well, maybe not slow, but I need to allow her a moment to breathe. Then I can claim her and never let her go.
“How old are you?” She blurts, and a horrified look overtakes her face seconds later.
But the question is already out there. It hangs between us, unwilling to be ignored and too adorable to be forgotten.
The lighting is fucking awful, but I can still see the way her cheeks pink slightly. Just enough.
Fuck. I want to make her blush every day for the rest of our lives.
“I’m 22.” I stand up straight and cross my arms across my chest as I stare down at her. The way she shifts her weight from one foot to the other tells me everything I need to know.
There’s something about making my woman squirm that I like. I like it a hell of a lot.
“You’re 22?” She looks up at me like I just switched over into talking Italian or some shit. Seeing her processing information she was not at all prepared for, and asked for anyway, is sexy as fuck.
“Yup,” I pop the p and straddle my bike before holding out a hand to help her climb on behind me.
“I’m too old for you,” the words tumble out of her mouth.
My head tips back and I bark out a laugh. She freezes and her thighs squeeze together.
“There is no way in the fucking world that you’re too old for me.
” I wrap my arm around her waist and haul her closer.
“I don’t know what the hell you do to me, Hollywood, but my time in the foster system taught me to listen to my gut.
It’s why I learned how to play cards. Why I got on a bike.
How I found my home with the Steel Sinners. ”
“What is your gut saying?” Her words wobble slightly, but she manages to get them out.
I swallow hard, a lump forming in my throat I don’t understand. Memories of the way Cowboy fell hard for Brielle hit me. I watched it happen and was baffled by the whole thing. But I would buy a million dance studios for this woman. And I’m aware how fucking unhinged it sounds.
“You’re mine, Quincy Wells. I’m going to prove it to you. I’ll give you a reason to throw away all the things that don’t bring your life joy or purpose before wrapping you up in the kind of love you’ll never want to walk away from.”
Her lips part and it takes everything in me not to swoop down and kiss her. I know she’ll taste so damn sweet on my tongue.
My fingers flex on her hip and she breathes out, “You’re like the most terrifying person I’ve ever met, but I’m not afraid of you.”
One side of my mouth tips up. “Climb on, Hollywood. Let’s go for a ride.”
The smile that lights up her face has my heart pounding in my chest. When I offer her my hand this time, she takes it without a hint of hesitation. Before I can really brace myself, she’s wrapped around me. The way her thighs cradle my hips is sexy as fuck.
Her touch is hesitant for a heartbeat and then it’s as if something breaks inside of her and she grips me tightly when my bike roars to life. I take off without any warning and Quincy laughs like a bird taking flight.
That’s what it feels like to have her touching me, to have her this close.
She didn’t run.
Maybe she should have.
I’ve never felt like this. Obsessive. Possessive.
I noticed every single man in that room who did more than glance at my woman. It wouldn’t be difficult for me to track every one of them down and erase the memory of her.
The moment I’m on the open road, I gun it, knowing right where I’m going without needing to think about it. It’s a place I’ve gone to quite a few times. I’ve found perspective while looking at the city where so many feel untouchable under the buzz of the neon.
Having Quincy wrapped around me is a strange sensation. It feels like she’s home, like she’s right where she’s supposed to be. But I’m very fucking aware of the fact that I don’t really know this woman.
There’s just something about her, something I can’t shake and don’t want to. How is it possible that things that always felt out of reach, things I never thought I’d understand, feel tangible now.
Like love.
Like a family of my own which includes more than my club brothers.
Like a woman who doesn’t look at me and see a broken boy, but sees me as I am. And stays.
She doesn’t seem to mind as we leave the lights of the city behind us. Instead, she holds me tighter. The way she moves with me, her body feeling like an extension of my own and my bike, has this thing between us strengthening, deepening.
I can’t explain how I know she’s mine. There’s no way I could adequately describe the feeling of it, the way rightness and reality have aligned.
Fuck. Maybe I’ve just lost my mind.
If that’s the case, I don’t want to find it again. I’m good with the way things are going. One thing is for sure; I’m burying my cock inside my woman before the night is over. I won’t be able to think of anything else if I don’t.
Then the hard part starts. I already know.
I have to convince Quincy that my words aren’t bullshit and I mean every one of them.
When we pull off to the side of the road at an overlook point, the lights of the city are just far enough away to make you feel like you can breathe again.
The ride was a little longer than I should have gone considering it’s her first time riding.
Twisting my torso, I grip Quincy and pull her around my body. Her eyes are wide, the sliver of moon above us highlighting the surprise in her expression. When I slide off my bike, I take her with me, easily carrying her and loving the way her legs tighten around me.
“Woah,” she breathes out, her fingers gripping my shoulders. I sit on the top of a picnic table that has seen better days.
I can’t help but chuckle and turn us slightly while pointing toward the glow of the city, the lights a beacon for so many. Is that what brought her here?
It almost doesn’t matter because she’s here now. Right where she belongs.
“Did you come chasing that, Hollywood? The neon? The lights? The excitement?”
She studies my face for so long, I’m convinced she’s not going to answer. Then she looks over toward Las Vegas, taking in the sight of it. The way she breathes in, holds it for a second and lets it out slowly feels like a moment, a chance, a choice.
“I didn’t come chasing the neon. It wasn’t even the tournament.
Not really. It was just the first opportunity that came my way that got me out of LA.
” She shrugs and then looks back at me. “I’ve been asking myself a lot of questions lately and was talking to an old friend, one who found out where she really belongs in this world even after all the fame and the lights and all,” she pauses and waves her hand toward the lights, “that.”
“What questions?” Her eyebrows pull together and I clarify, “What questions have you been asking yourself lately?”
She blinks a few times and swallows hard. “What the point is?” She bites her lip and my cock throbs, but I ignore it. “That makes me sound so ungrateful, but I’m not.”
My hands come up and I cup her face. For a moment, I marvel at how soft her skin is. “It doesn’t make you sound ungrateful,” I insist.
“It wasn’t like there was ever a time when I dreamed of being what I became,” her words are small, like she’s afraid of saying them too loud. “I was in the right place at the right time.”
Her eyes drift toward the city in the distance.
“I’ve felt kind of like this view for a long time.
I bet most people would see the beauty of the lights and be drawn to them.
But there is so much more to the landscape than just the lights.
” She takes a deep breath, her mouth twisting to one side before she adds, “I don’t think many people have bothered to look at me and see more than the fame, than the roles, and all the celebrity that comes with it. ”
I want to tell her that I see more than that, but I’m not sure she would hear me right now. It’s not easy to bite my tongue, but I manage.