“You’re mine, little doe. Forever.”
I register the seriousness in his tone, the way he holds my gaze with his eyes, and the way he holds onto my body as if he never wants to let go.
It should probably frighten me, but I’ve never felt so cherished and safe. Even when Ace was messaging me and breaking into my house there was something in his soul that put me at ease. A deep knowing inside of me that made me discern that he wasn’t dangerous to me. The exact opposite of how I feel around Kyle. My body picks up on their energy, warning me in its own way. Maybe it’s the trauma that’s able to predict the danger inside a person, alerting me the moment something feels off. If only it wouldn’t overreact to normal everyday things as well.
Ace’s fingers dig into my hips and his pace becomes frantic.
“I can’t hold out much longer, baby. Come for me. Come on my cock.”
Rolling my hips, I grind my clit down onto his pelvic bone feeling jolts of electricity sliding over my nerves and building, building, building- until I break. Waves of pleasure slam into me as he finds his release, ejaculating his hot cum up into me.
I lean down and kiss him soundly on his lips before sliding off. He tucks me gently into his side and moves my hair away from my face. The gesture is tender, yet full of possessiveness.
As I listen to his steady heart beating, I realize that my own heart rate is feeling equally as steady. Not an ounce of anxiety lingers as we breathe in and out together. It’s in no way a cure for my lifelong mental battle, but it’s a whole new realization that maybe I can have a sense of normalcy. Something that I’ve been convinced could never happen. The acceptance that when I’m with Ace, I feel like a better version of myself hits me hard.
“Everything okay?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed as he watches my face.
“Everything’s perfect.” I respond, tucking my head against his chest letting myself feel for once, and I don’t hate it. In fact, I think I could get used to this.
CHAPTER 30
ACE
27 YEARS OLD
There’sa raccoon sitting on the table when we finally emerge out of the bedroom. Belatedly, I realize that in my haste to catch Hazel, I left the door to the cabin wide open.
“Oh my god!” Hazel squeaks, seeing our uninvited guest chowing down on a croissant. “Can we keep him?” She asks, getting closer to the possibly rabid beast.
“We are not keeping a wild animal. It could have fleas. Or worse rabies. I just got you out of the hospital, don’t make me drag you back there because of a rabid raccoon.”
“He’s not rabid. He’s just hungry.” She says watching him with her big eyes as she wiggles her pointer finger at him. “Hi little guy. Aren’t you just the cutest raccoon there ever was?”
The raccoon seems completely unfazed by our presence as he happily grabs another croissant with his tiny paws getting the excess flakes all over the table and floor.
“Those were my croissants.” I grumble.
“You’re just a little rascal aren’t you. Oh my god, that’s what I’m going to call you. Croissant!”
I run my hands down my face, realizing there’s no talking her out of this.
“Let me at least make a call so we can get this thing checked out properly by a vet before you decide to infect yourself with rabies.”
“Deal.” She says, nearly bouncing on her toes. Actually, looking at her she is bouncing. If that raccoon can elicit this kind of response in my girl, the thing can stay. Hell, I’ll fill the house with a hoard of raccoons if it will keep that look on her face. Despite the near-death experience, she seems completely at ease and happy. Two incredibly rare things for her.
She entertains her new friend while I make a call back to my office to take care of a few things. Number one being this raccoon.
Once my associate, Jenson comes to take the raccoon in, we sit down to a feast of New York style pizza I had him bring with. Jenson assures Hazel that he’ll take the best care of Rascal Croissant, before he lures it into a cage with the last of the croissants. I’m still mad that the thing ate what was supposed to be our breakfast in the morning.
Before Jenson leaves, he hands me a stack of papers he was able to obtain from my loft.
“They’re watching it alright.” He says.
“And you’re sure you weren’t followed?”
He fixes me with a ‘you’re kidding me’ stare. Jenson and I have been through our fair share of assignments. He’s a much better shot than I am, and a freaking wizard when it comes to getting past a firewall undetected.
“Come on. I lost them in the first five minutes.” He assures me and I believe him. We’ve been through far too much together to be capable of betraying the other. He’s the kind of guy I would have chosen for my own brother. And in some ways, he is that to me. A chosen member of my family. It’s funny how people can become closer than your own flesh and blood like that.
