Page 5 of The Shake Off

I turned around to find one of the huge New York Lions flags which Lowe had hung all over the city, this one bearing his face, and I let out the laugh I’d been holding. I’d been too busy making my wish that I hadn’t noticed the flag flapping next to me had Ace’s face printed on it.

“So,” he said, when I turned back, “you getting in?”

Fuck it. I was a single woman, and itwasmy birthday.

Why couldn’t I have my cake and eat it?

I hit cancel on the Uber, rounded the car to where Ace had pushed open the passenger door, and hopped in.

“Did anyone tell you you’re the most beautiful birthday girl they’d ever seen in their life?”

I shook my head with a grin, smoothing down my jacket, which had barely hit my knees, and crossed my legs. I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t enjoy Ace’s eyes tracking the movement, though when I looked over to him again, he was focused back on my face.

“Good, that means I get to be the first. You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life,” he grinned. “Now, what’s our destination?”

* * *

This is how it’s always gone when I’ve fantasized about Ace Watson:

The scene opens with him pouring me a drink, in a location that changes depending on my mood. Condensation runs down the glass just as a tiny bead of sweat forms at the base of my throat.

Ace notices.

He’s still holding the glass as he leans in and licks it away, dragging his perfect lips up the column of my neck.

Fuck, that mouth could do some damage.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” he whispers, his breath burning my skin. “You make me so hard, harder than I’ve ever been in my life, and I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

I’d moan, but I’m struggling to breathe, and my bottom lip is caught between my teeth. I never get my drink because Ace drops to his knees. His lips suction along my skin, my pussy clenching harder and harder the closer he gets to where I desperately need to feel him. Finally, he rips my panties off and proceeds to spread me over his tongue.

Eating like it’s his last meal.

The first orgasm rips through me like a tornado, but Ace isn’t done. Not even close. Without breaking contact, he lies back on the floor and pulls me with him so I’m straddling his face.

“Ride me,” he orders, yanking the neckline of my dress until my breasts pop free. “I want to drown in your cum.”

I’m in the hands of an expert; his thumb swiping over my rock-hard nipples with the exact amount of pressure as his tongue stabs inside me as I grind my pussy into his face, and it takes no time before I’m coming a second time.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. I wanna make you cum all night,” he groans. “Let me do it again. Please.”

“Okay, one more, then your turn,” I pant, though I’m so breathless it’s hard to form words.

But Ace knows.

“No, don’t worry about me. This is all about you.” He kisses me roughly and flips me over.

His dick is so thick it steals my breath as he plunges inside me for the first time, positioning himself so he hits me right inthatspot. I’m coiled tighter than a spring, and he’s holding me firm enough that all I can do is take it.

His mouth moves along my spine, licking up the sweat from our exertions as he gathers my hair into his fist and really goes to town on me right there on the floor. My toes curl so much that they imprint onto whatever surface we’re on, and before long, it results in orgasm number three.

It’s usually at this point I fall asleep, worn out by the Ace Watson in my dreams.

Ace Watson, the best sex I’d ever had.

Ace Watson, sex god. A selfless and generous lover.

Ace Watson, perfect specimen of a man.

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