Page 10 of Jace

He steps even closer, his hand resting on my hip now, firm and possessive.

“Fine, I’ll answer Mr. Teacher,” Jace says, his voice low. “Right now? Right now, I’m living for you, boy.”

My cheeks burn, and I’m glad for the dim light hiding my blush.

Jace’s touch is bold, commanding, and it sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the breeze. I should pull away, but my body betrays me, leaning into his warmth.

“Jace,” I start, but his name comes out softer than I mean it to, like a plea.

“Hush,” Jace murmurs, his thumb brushing my hip, slow and deliberate. “Don’t think so hard. Justfeel.”

And then he kisses me. His lips are firm, demanding, tasting of smoke and whiskey, and it’s like the world falls away.

My hands find his chest, gripping his leather vest, and I kiss him back, tentative at first, then hungrier, matching his intensity.

Jace’s hand slides up my back, pulling me closer, and I feel the hard muscular tone of his body, the strength that could break or protect. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and I’m drowningin him—his scent, his heat, the way he takes control like it’s his right.

This is something else. It’s something I’ve dreamed of but never dared to admit to myself…

But just as I’m losing myself, Jace’s phone buzzes, loud and insistent.

Jace freezes, cursing under his breath, and pulls back, leaving me breathless and reeling. My lips tingle, my body humming with need, but the moment’s gone.

He checks his phone, his jaw tightening, and I see it—the shift from Jace, the man who just kissed me senseless, to Jace, the Wolf Rider.

“Trouble?” I ask, my voice shaky, trying to ground myself.

“Yeah,” he says, his tone clipped. “Club shit. Gotta go.”

The disappointment stings, but so does the sense of fear washing over me. The way he says “club shit,” like it’s more than a bar fight or a bad deal… it makes my stomach twist.

I’ve heard whispers about the Wolf Riders—drugs, guns, blood. The whole package. The kind of things that I don’t ever need to be associated to or come into contact with.

And yet. I want to ask, to know what I’m getting into, but his expression is closed off now, all business.

But I can’t let it go. I have to know more…

“Wait, you can’t just leave and not say why,” I say, hands on hips.

“I told you… club shit,” Caleb says, evidently unimpressed with my continued questioning.

“And I toldyou, I want to know more!” I snap, rolling my eyes.

“Last chance, boy,” Jace answers, his patience wearing thin. “Ask me again, and I’ll have you over the side of the Harley with your pants around your ankles and that ass glowing redder than a tomato.”

“Pffft. Right, okay, sure,” I say, my cheeks flushing red and my voice wavering despite my show of bravado. “I don’t think so. Tell me. Tell me now. Whatisthis business?”

Before I know it, Jace has taken me by the hand and marched me over toward the motorcycle. This can’t be happening, can it?

“Safeword,” Jace says. “I need a safeword, boy.”

“Falafel,” I blurt out, not knowing why I’m consenting to this madness other than it just… kind of feels natural.

Jace grunts and nods, but before I can say anything else, he yanks my trousers down and leaves them at my ankles.

“Jace, please!” I beg. “What… what if someone sees?”

“Well they’ll see a boy getting his ass spanked for disobeying a Daddy,” Jace says, a hint of menace in his voice.

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