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I sat on Ace’s bed with my head in my hands, my heart aching, waiting for him to return from his phone call for fifteen whole minutes.
And then I got sick of waiting.
For so many reasons, I got sick of waiting.
I stood and prepared to get dressed and leave for home alone when I felt a rabid roar shake the house. I froze, my breathing stalling, too shocked to do anything other than stand there, listening.
Ace. I’d never heard him make a sound like that before. I’d never heard anyone make a sound like that before…except for maybe monsters in movies and TV shows.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs and toward his room. Ace punched in the code, and his door came swinging open, slamming into the wall with a loud bang, making me jump.
Ace stood by the closed door for a moment while visibly seething, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths.
His dark eyes met mine.
I didn’t say a word. I wasn’t afraid of him, but I was wary of him when this side—
his darker side—was in charge.
Ace’s dark eyes moved down my body, taking in my brown hair hanging loose over my shoulders, my upper half still covered by his dress shirt, my legs on full display.
The longer he stared at me, the more his breathing started to slow. His tight muscles relaxed. Yet, his gaze remained clouded, promising violence to anyone who dared cross him.
Without saying a word, he marched to his dresser and practically tore his drawers open as he pulled out various articles of clothing. He turned back to me.
“Come here, Doe,” he told me, standing near the end of his bed with the clothes in his hands.
I took tentative steps toward him, eyeing his furious expression. I stopped a foot away from him.
He growled once in appreciation of my obedience. “Arms up.”
I followed his orders without hesitation, too put off by his behavior to challenge him.
Ace pulled the shirt I was wearing over my head and replaced it with one of his cotton T-shirts. The fabric felt soft against my skin and smelled like him.
Next, he helped me step into a pair of his sweatpants that were similar to the gray ones he was wearing.
“Ace, what’s going on?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice as gentle as possible as he tied his pants extra tight around my waist and then bent down to roll the bottoms so my feet were visible.
Ace straightened. “Madoc is going to give you a ride home.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
He helped me put on one of his sweatshirts and then took a step back to look me over. He nodded his approval.
I understood why he was dressing me this way without having to ask.
It was something he did when he felt particularly out of control: put me in his clothes. He was making sure I was completely covered in his scent so everyone
“knew who I belonged to,” as he put it.
He cupped my face in his hands, caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “Absolutely perfect. And you’re all mine.”
Yeah, something was wrong. I knew that tone. It was deeper, rougher. It was his dark side talking.
“Say you’re mine, Doe,” he growled.
“I’m yours,” I whispered. I curled my fingers around his wrists, squeezing them gently in reassurance. “I’ll always be yours.”
That seemed to calm him a bit.
“Let me see your neck,” he said abruptly.
Ace tilted my head and brushed the collar of his hoodie to the side. He swept his eyes over the bump on my neck and what I was sure was another bite mark, courtesy of the previous night’s activities.
“You bit me. You said you wouldn’t do that again,” I tried to joke, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.
He licked his lips. “You wanted it this time. You squeezed me extra hard every time I dug my teeth into your perfect flesh.”
A warmth starting at my cheeks moved all the way down to my breasts. I tried to shove him away, shocked by his brazen words, only to have him tug me back with a growl.
He bent down and nipped at my neck once again, licking the bump. My legs turned to Jello.
I needed to change the subject. “Why is Madoc taking me home? What was your phone call about?”
Ace snarled again. “I have to go to Croatia.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“I have to go to Croatia,” he repeated just as casually, murmuring the words into my neck. He licked from my collarbone up to my ear.
I swallowed my moan, fighting to keep my focus. “Uh, do you want to explain why, maybe?”
Ace dropped his head onto my shoulder, kept his hold tight around my hips, and pressed his nose against that little bump on my neck, breathing in my scent by the lungful.
“That was…a friend of mine. His name is Kyle King. He—”
I stopped him. “I thought whoever was calling was named Grayson Stoll.”
Ace swerved to look at the clock on the dresser behind him. It was nearly three in the morning. A muscle popped in his jaw. He kissed my cheek and stepped away.
“Kyle is Grayson’s friend,” he explained from his closet. “Grayson is my cousin and he’s not doing well right now. It was Kyle who called me from Grayson’s phone.”
Ace reappeared seconds later with a black T-shirt on and a duffel bag in his hands.
“I’ve met your family hundreds of times but have never heard you mention the name Grayson.”
“We’re both very busy people.” He went back to his dresser and began pulling clothes out of the drawers and shoving them into his bag. “And he lives in Croatia.”
“Croatia?” I questioned incredulously. “You have a cousin who lives in Croatia?
How did I not know about this?”
Ace shrugged. “He moved there recently. He used to live in Minnesota.”
I flopped down onto the edge of his bed with a huff. “I’m really getting sick of not knowing basic information about my boyfriend and best friend of twelve years.”
Once his bag was filled, he dropped it on the bed next to me. He looked down at me with a much softer gaze than before.
“It was never my intention to keep Grayson from you, love. He just never came up in conversation. And, like I said, he’s a very busy man. I haven’t seen him for quite some time.”
“So then, why was his friend calling you a million times in the middle of the night if you’re not close?”
Ace brushed his fingers over my chin and down my neck to caress the mark he’d left on my neck once again.
He was really obsessing over the stupid thing tonight—which annoyed me because it was making it extremely hard for me to concentrate.
“My father tried to kill him yesterday,” he stated.