Filed To Story: The Trap Of Ace Book PDF Free
Moving away slightly, I cupped his face.
“Then we’ll fight those demons together.”
“But will you always be there with me?”
His features were unreadable.
I brushed my lips against his.
“I will,” I promised.
“I’ll be always there with you.”
Watching me for a moment, he smashed his lips with mine.
The intensity of his kiss told me how he wanted to convey his feelings through the kiss.
Pulling away, he let out a sigh and pulled me into his arms again.
“I love you, my Rosebud.”
“I love you too.”
Even though he told me everything, I felt like something was still left out.
I didn’t find anything Arthur could use against him.
Was Arthur really telling me the truth?
Or did Ace not reveal everything?
Whatever it was, I decided not to ask him any more questions for now.
He already told me enough.
I didn’t want to torment him further.
But the tight grip of his around me, as if I’d disappear somewhere at any moment disturbed me.
What was he hiding?
Stirring
the pasta in the pan, I put the cake in the refrigerator after getting it out of the oven.
Then I went busy with preparing the icing.
A pair of strong arms snaked around my waist from behind.
The fragrance of his soap from his fresh shower reached my nostrils.
A smile tugged at my lips.
“What’s my Rose doing?”
he rasped in my ear.
His thumb brushed on my belly in circles.
“I’m preparing dinner for the guards.”
Tossing the pasta, I sprinkled some more salt.
He raised his brows.
I rolled my eyes.
“Of course I’m making food for both of us.
Though we can send some for them.”
“No.
Only I can taste the food my Rosebud makes for me.”
The place between his brows furrowed.
Shaking my head, I chuckled.
Unbelievable.
He nuzzled my neck again.
A shiver ran through me as his stubble tickled my skin.
I let out a giggle.
“Stop!
It tickles!”
He rubbed his face more against my neck, making me laugh.
When his fingers crept up my sides, I let out a squeal, trying to get away.
But holding me back, he tickled my sides, throwing me into a fit of laughter.
With a smile stretched across his face, he watched me wiggling in his arms, cackling like an idiot.
“S-stop!
I can’t breathe!”
But he didn’t stop.
His laughter followed behind, it sounded musical to my ears.
And when I started wheezing, only then he stopped.
Wiping the tears from the corner of my eyes, I glared at him.
He grinned, pulling me into him again.
“I’m hungry,” he whispered, his hand crawling into my blouse.
I bit my lip at the tug in my lower abdomen.
“Dinner first.”
“I can’t wait anymore.
I need you, baby,” he groaned, his hands inching closer from my chest.
Pulling away, I took the pasta off the stove.
“No, I’m making dinner and we’ll enjoy the food now.
Other plans are for later.”
He grumbled, trying to touch me again.
But I put the ladle between us, halting his movements.
“Now let me finish my job.
I need to ice the cake.”
His lips pressed together.
“All right.
Let me help.”
“No.
Today is my turn to feed you.
I’ll do everything myself.
I’m almost done, anyway.
You go finish any work you have left.”
“Oh, I can’t wait for you to feed me,” he commented, licking his lips.
My cheeks flamed at his double meaning.
Letting out a laugh, he pressed a kiss on my lips and walked away.
Shaking my head, I let out a sigh.
I could see through his fa?ade even though he acted like nothing happened.
I saw the storm brewing in his eyes behind all his teasing and laughter.
He appeared more tense than usual after our little talk in his office.
Something was bothering him, and it broke my heart to see him this way.
Turning under the blanket,
I felt cold.
I didn’t wake up to the warm body I went to sleep with.
My hand stretched for him on the bed, but he wasn’t there.
Reaching out, I turned on the lamp that lightened the dark room.
The washroom and balcony doors were locked.
Where did he go?
After our dinner, he took me to the bedroom and made love to me until I was exhausted and couldn’t move a limb.
With his gentle touches and sweet whispers in my ear, I had found myself in a peaceful sleep.
But now he wasn’t here.
Ignoring the discomfort down there, I got up and put on his T-shirt, the one he threw on the floor earlier during our hot session.
Padding out of the room, I went to the living room and then the kitchen.
Not finding him there, I checked the other rooms.
But to no avail.
“Ace?”
Silence.
My gaze went to the narrow hallway that led to the library, gym, and his office.
Biting my lip, I trudged through the hallway and came to a halt in front of the gym.
Through the gap beneath the door, I could see the lights were on.
I frowned.
What was he doing here at midnight?
I pushed the door open and walked inside.
“Ace—“
But I was cut off by the scene before me.
FIFTY-SIX: FEARS
S weat trickled down his strong back along with the tensing and flexing of his shoulders while he was engrossed in killing his massive punching bag.
Only the sound of his ragged breathing and punches echoed throughout the gym.
But what shocked me was the bloody spots on the punching bag.
Rage boiled inside my veins.
My fists clenched.
He was doing it again.
“Ace!
Stop it!”
His movements stilled.
His broad shoulders rose and fell with every heavy breath he took as he turned his head to me.
Dark, stormy gray eyes met my turquoise ones.
Striding closer, I grasped his hands.
A gasp left me at the sight.
They were worse than I’d ever seen before.
They weren’t just bruised, they were bloody.
“What the hell you’re doing!”
My eyes burned with tears as I held his gaze.
“Have you lost it?
You’re bleeding!
How many times do I have to tell you not to do this!
You’re hurting yourself again!”
But my outburst didn’t seem to reach his ears.
His eyes were too busy watching me, roaming every feature of mine.
When a tear slipped down my cheek, he blinked, coming back to his senses.
“Rosebud?
What happened, baby?
Why are you crying?”
He cupped my cheeks.
“Are you hurt?”
Didn’t he realize what I was talking about?
Something squeezed inside my chest.
What bothered him to that extent that he didn’t even realize his own pain?
“Yes, I’m hurt.”
Concern etched on his beautiful face as they searched for any injuries on my body.
“Hurt?
Where?
How did you get hurt?”
“You hurt me,” I whispered.
He stilled, watching me in silence.
A pain flashed across his eyes as if even the idea of hurting me haunted him.
“I could never hurt you, Rosebud.
I’d die before doing that.”
“But you did.
Not physically, but emotionally.
You’re hurting me by hurting yourself.”