Chapter 4
ACE
There has to be something wrong with my head. When Victor asked me to intervene, to search for his sister, I thought I’d be doing a favor for an old friend. When I heard Ivy’s plea and learned about her problems, I decided I would do her a favor, too. I’d let her stay a while to figure herself out.
I was not meant to wake up in the middle of the night after a hot dream with her, sporting the biggest hard-on ever.
She’s gorgeous, yes, and those curves of hers would make any warm-blooded man struggle to keep up.
Honestly, I can’t understand what’s up with the world nowadays, where people force unrealistic body expectations down women’s throats.
At first, I thought everyone could see through Photoshop and the edits in magazine pictures...
Turns out girls are being raised to think that’s the norm.
That’s how sick society is. As if I’d want to date a skinny girl who I can’t even take to restaurants because she won’t eat.
And it might be a primal thing, but every cell in my body desires Ivy.
Thick thighs, round hips, the way her lips plump when she narrows her eyes and pouts in rage at me.
I can see her in my mind’s eye as I jerk off in the morning, and I still daydream about her as I work out, trying to sweat it all off.
It doesn’t work. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with my head, but it doesn’t work. This girl has taken over my mind, invaded my thoughts, keeping them hostage. I keep wondering what she tastes like and about the sounds of pleasure that escape when she...
No. That’s not why she’s here. She needs some time off, and her brother needs help...
I shouldn’t be stepping into it. Nosing into subjects that are not my concern.
I shake myself back to reality. The sooner this is over, the sooner I can get back to my life.
Attracted to her or not, she’s leaving to go back to her fiancé, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
My phone buzzes as I leave my morning shower. I pick it up as I check the new message. Victor’s asking about Ivy. It’s early as shit. She’s probably not even up, and he had agreed to give her some time. Did he think that by time I meant the night?
I type the same shit again, telling him she’s staying at my place for some days.
Just so the matters cool down. He replies with a begrudging okay, but it’s more than enough.
I get dressed and leave my bedroom to go after her.
In the back of my mind, the fleeting dream of her naked on my bed flashes, and I push it away like every other time.
My body is getting too worked up. I can’t let it show close to her. Can’t let it show in the training, too. I have to get my head out of the gutter.
Ivy is not in the kitchen, so I trek back to her bedroom. Not in here either. I eye the white fluff that is her discarded wedding dress without hiding my discontentment. Why the hell is there so much fabric? A woman with those mouthwatering curves should show them off, not hide them.
But if she showed them off, that would mean other men would see them, too, and the fact makes my blood boil.
I shove a hand through my hair. Shit. Cool down, Ace. What the hell are you thinking?
The noise of something screeching on the floor comes from down the corridor.
I follow it to my office and find Ivy propped up on a chair in front of my trophy wall.
There are all sorts of things in here, all the way back into my childhood and my first actual games.
I don’t look at the trophies, though. Their gleam can’t hold a candle next to the woman in shorts and a t-shirt standing next to me.
Holy shit, her thick thighs are so close I could touch them...
“Morning,” she greets, shooting me a smile. Shit, it makes my heart skip a damn beat. Again.
“What are you doing?” I ask in a low voice, hoping my lust doesn’t come out with the words I say.
“Just seeing your trophies. There are a lot of them.” And she turns to read the words written beneath each one. “Ace Alvarez. You’ve been playing for a while.”
Probably as long as she’s alive, but I don’t mention that. Her age is not the only problem here. “Yeah. I’ve always known I was good at it.”
She smiles. “It must be nice. To know you’re good at something.”
I arch an eyebrow, watching her face for signs of a joke. She’s as serious as she could be. “What are you talking about?” I ask. “You’re great at drawing.”
She scoffs. “You saw me doodling. You don’t know that.”
“There was obvious talent there.”
She shakes her head. “It was just some doodling.” And before I can complain more, she points at the trophies on the top shelf. The ones I’m proud of. “What’s that? The One Walk?”
“It’s a fundraising event for diabetes. I take part every year.”
She snaps her head to me, her eyes glinting in the sunlight. “That’s so cool. Do they give off trophies for everyone?”
“No, not really. I...” I donated a bunch of money every year, but I don’t like to talk about it. Feels like bragging. “They just gave it to me because I’m especially good-looking.”
Her eyes go round, but she sees the smile on my face and snorts in laughter. “You jerk.” She punches me in the shoulder. “I almost believed you.”
“You did?” I arch an eyebrow. “You were going to believe I got a trophy for being handsome? Does that mean you agree?”
“With what?” she squeals, but there’s no use pretending. Her cheeks go red as she looks from side to side at the trophies.
“You think I’m handsome?” I ask, poking at her knee because it’s the safest place for me to do that without getting another crazy hard-on this soon.
Unfortunately for me, she jerks away hard, pulling her knee up in a tickling response.
A peal of laughter escapes her, but the chair moves, and it all goes slow-mo.
Ivy topples off the chair, her eyes becoming circles of panic, her arms shooting out, struggling for balance.
The chair falls off, and I watch her collapse.
My body reacts fast. It’s been too long working to improve my reflexes, and nothing would make me move faster than keeping this woman from getting hurt. The thought explodes in my head. I can’t let her get hurt. Ever.
My hands shoot out and I catch her mid-fall, even before she has the time to gasp in surprise.
I tighten my hold around her, letting her body crash into mine, bending my knees to soften her impact.
Her chest slams against mine, and we stay there, frozen in time, our gazes locked, her fingers gripping at my shirt.
She smells so freaking good. It’s white rose and jasmine all over again, making my mouth water. Ivy parts her lips, gaze roaming down my face.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, but she doesn’t pull back. She’s perfect in my arms. As if this is the place she’s supposed to be.
“Careful,” I reply, my voice primal and raw, scratching at my throat. “You could have gotten hurt.”
“Yeah... And you were so fast.” Her fingers tighten on my arm. Is she feeling me up? I stare into her eyes, hoping I am reading this right, hoping I’m not about to fuck everything up... Rationality takes the back seat and I crash our lips together.
Ivy releases a soft sigh against my mouth, then parts her lips to take me in.
I swipe my tongue over hers, tasting that jasmine in her, seeking more of it.
A hand of mine burying into her soft hair, I grip at the roots, soaking in the sound of her moaning against me.
My pants go tight, too tight, but I can’t bear the idea of creating an inch of space between us.
Ivy does the unthinkable and circles her hips against my hardness, and it almost drives me fucking insane...
Her kiss is sweet and passionate. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever had. And it’s so wrong.
It dawns on me in a flash. Her brother. Her fiancé. The age difference between us. I’m not a man made for love, and she’s not the kind of woman I would fuck and leave. She’s perfection. She’s everything a man could ever desire. And I can’t lead her on when we can never be together.
She touches my cheek, soft fingertips racing down my stubble.
I pull back. Her touch is too much. It ignites something in me, a need so powerful I can’t look at it.
Putting her back on her feet, I make sure she’s alright, then take a full step away from her.
There’s no way to conceal my hardness, but it doesn’t matter.
My body and my mind are different, and I shouldn’t let them get mistaken again.
“What...?” Ivy mouths, looking up at me with doubt.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt. “Shouldn’t have done that. You’re engaged, and you’re Victor’s sister, and...”
“I don’t care,” she says, and she’s got that look in her eyes that turns my guts to lava. I can’t stand another moment here.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her again before I whirl around and escape like a freaking coward. But there’s no way around it now. It’s clear like the morning sky.
I’m falling in love with her. And as wrong as it is, it’s also unstoppable.