Page 52 of Ace of Spades
“What the hell was that, Sorrels?” he pants, the two of us breathing heavily as we lay on the ground. My hands are glued to his chest, my body pressed to his, our faces mere inches apart.
His arm remains wrapped around my middle, holding me to him. He seems to finally realize the position that we’re in, our eyes locking as we both try to catch our breath. I feel his hard chest beneath me, my pulse quickening at how close we are. I feel a heat building in my core, an ache that thrums with need.
Before I have a chance to overthink, I press my lips to his. They’re soft and warm, and melt perfectly with mine. He doesn’treact, completely caught by surprise, and I feel like a complete idiot all of a sudden. What was I thinking? I had gotten so caught up in the heat of the moment, I hadn’t stopped to think of the repercussions. What If I had been reading everything completely wrong? I could have sworn there was this spark between us, but it could have all been my imagination.
Right as I begin to pull away, preparing to apologize and live in mortification, his arm around my waist tightens, his free hand coming up to grab me by the nape.
“Don’t you dare pull away from me,” he breathes, his tone low and gravely, before pulling me back down and slamming his lips onto mine. His mouth doesn’t leave mine as he flips us over in one fluid movement, laying me onto my back as he presses into me, using one arm to brace himself over me as the other tangles in the hair at my nape, tilting my head back to kiss me deeper.
He devours me like a starved man, his hold on me possessive and primal. I let myself sink into his touch, his tongue pressing against my lips, demanding entrance. His buckle grinds against that sweet spot between my legs, drawing a moan from my lips as heat spreads through my core.
He emits a throaty groan as I rub myself against him, his hold in my hair tightening as he kisses me deeper, faster, harder. The world around us seems to disappear—the rain, the storm, all of it fading into nothing as I let myself fall into him.
I let my hands roam up his body, sinking beneath his soaked t-shirt and eliciting a shiver out of him. His hips thrust against me as I moan into his mouth, the friction causing my senses to go haywire. I feel like I might die if I don’t get more, like he’s air and I’m drowning.
The sound of tires rolling through the wet dirt draws our attention, our kiss breaking just in time for headlights to hit us in the face. I bring my hand up to shield my eyes, Weston getting up from between my legs and grabbing my hand to help me to my feet.
The headlights turn off, Beau’s tall and skinny frame coming into sight as he steps out of his truck and walks toward us.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Weston grinds out, clearly not happy with the fact that we were interrupted. I can’t say I’m exactly pleased, either.
Beau smirks, a knowing smile stretching across his boyish face.
“Well, Chelsea sent me down here to make sure you guys were okay since neither of you were answering your phones. I’m supposed to tell y’all that dinner’s ready in fifteen at the lodge, but I can tell them you guys are gonna be running a bit late,” he winks.
“We’ll be there in a minute,” I say, a blush creeping across. “We just need to shower and change real quick, we got caught in the storm on the way back from riding.”
“I’m sure y’all did,” Beau smirks, earning a growl from Weston. I wait until Beau is back in the truck and driving away before I turn to him, smacking him in the chest.
“Are you a caveman?
“What?”
“You can’t go around growling at people, Weston!”
He rolls his eyes dramatically as I turn to walk back to my trailer.
“Text me when you’re out of the shower, I’ll pick you up and we can drive down together,” he says, walking back in the direction of his house.
I throw myself onto the couch as soon as I make it back to my camper, not caring that I was soaking wet. Gypsy jumps up on top of me, licking my face all over as I stare up at the ceiling, processing everything.
What just happened?
Chapter 17
WESTON
I honk as soon as I pull the truck up to Hailey’s trailer, waiting a few minutes until she finally comes out, wearing a bubblegum-pink pajama set and boots, her hair still wet and tied into a high ponytail. Gypsy follows hot on her heels, Hailey opening the back door of my truck for her dog to jump in the back seat with Maverick.
She walks around the front, slipping into the passenger seat before slamming the door. The radio plays softly in the background, my rolled-down windows letting in the cool evening air as the sound of the crickets fills the silence.
Hailey looks anywhere but at me, squirming in her seat. I can’t help but peek over at her perfectly toned and tanned legs,legs worthy of being touched. Legs that I can’t stop imagining being wrapped around my face.
Fuck, I need to pull myself together. I focus my attention back on the dirt road rather than the bombshell sitting right beside me. The one that kissed me earlier, something I never would have expected from her. Not that I was complaining—on the contrary, it was something I’d thought about for longer than I cared to admit, I just never thought it would be in the cards for me.
We sit in silence until we get to the lodge, Hailey slipping out of the truck as soon as we’re parked. I let the dogs out, the two of them happily running ahead of us as we walk across the wooden deck.
Gypsy and Maverick waste no time finding Prairie, Rafe’s blue heeler, the three dogs causing a ruckus as they chase each other around the sitting area on the far end of the room, the space finished with leather sofas and an intricate stone fireplace.
