“I’m sure your mother’s proud of what you’ve accomplished, and what you’ve tried to do to help your family.”
He shrugged the comment off. “I donate money every year to my mother’s favorite muscular dystrophy charity. Her brother was inflicted, and she always saved whatever she could to send to the charity group in hopes they’d help someone else live a more vibrant life.”
“What about homeless vets?” I asked, and his chin jerked up, surprised.
“What do you know about that?”
I leaned forward. “The bartender in Florida told me about how you helped Charlie.”
He looked embarrassed and stared at his beer. “I’m working on a foundation to help homeless vets,” he finally admitted. “It kills me, you know, to see men who were once so damn strong and brave get thrown away by the system.”
Tears pricked the back of my eyes.
“You know what else kills me?” he asked, and I shook my head. “It kills me that I have everything any man could ever want, and I still carry all this toxic shit inside I can’t get rid of.”
“Have you ever sought treatment, Ace? Like a therapist to help you sort through everything.”
He laughed. “Yeah. I hired this shrink and ended up fucking her on the little couch.”
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe you should try a guy next time.”
His grin grew bigger. “Don’t swing that way.”
I tossed another napkin at him, hitting him square in the chest.
“Can I get you anything else? Dessert? The check?”
I started, not noticing the waitress approach.
“Check is good, thanks,” Ace said and took out his wallet. He tossed a hundred down. “No change needed.” When the elderly woman’s eyes watered, he pulled out another and pressed it into her wrinkled hand. “Hope you have a good day.”
He slid from the booth and the waitress wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure how I was going to buy my medicine this month.”
I watched Ace’s jaw tighten. “How much is your medicine each month?”
The old lady sniffed. “The part my insurance doesn’t cover is still eighty dollars, can you believe that?”
Ace reached for his wallet again and pulled out a folded piece of paper I realized was a check. “Can I borrow your pen?”
The lady shook her head. “No, you’ve done too much already.” She was backing away.
He looked at me. “Gotta ink pen on ya?”
I pulled one from my purse and watched him write a check for two thousand dollars, and my heart squeezed. Did he help strangers because he couldn’t help his own family?
He wrote Sue, then looked at the waitress. “What’s your last name? If you don’t tell me, I’ll just ask around until somebody does.”
I stood and wrapped my arm around the woman’s shoulders. “Let him do this for you,” I told her.
“Johnson,” she said after several long moments had passed. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
Ace finished up the check. “You promise to cash it?”
She nodded and took it in her trembling fingers. “I promise, and I’ll say a prayer for you every day.” She looked at the check. “Ace Newman.”
He kissed her wrinkled cheek. “Thanks, I need all the prayers I can get.” Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me from the restaurant.
We walked across the street. He gripped my hand tightly in his as we crossed the busy street. When we were just outside of our rooms, his phone vibrated. He took it out of his pocket and frowned at the screen.
“Yeah, Eve, what do you need now?”
I watched his face changed, watched it crumble with emotion. I slid my key card through the door and pulled him inside my room. He sat down on the bed, his face in his hand as he consoled his sister, telling her not to worry, that he’d pay for everything.
When he disconnected the call, he looked up at me, and a lone tear slid down his face. I went to him, holding him in my arms as his entire body shuddered through his grief.
“I’ve hated him for so long. Why do I miss him so much now?”
I just shook my head. I didn’t have any answers. I didn’t know how our hearts could hate and love with the same beat. I wondered if it would be like this when my own father died.
I’m not exactly sure when our lips met. One moment I was holding him, then I was kissing him, then my hands were under his shirt, feeling his warmth.
We didn’t speak. We didn’t say a word, just undressed each other with a reverence that felt holy. Our mouths worshiped the other’s skin, taking and giving with each touch. His lips on my breasts, sucking as if seeking nourishment, then lower, his tongue lapping at me between my legs, his fingers plunging into my depths.
Each time I came, he murmured something I couldn’t understand, but he didn’t stop until I came a third time. I was weak, exhausted, by the time he climbed up my body.
“I got tested in Florida,” he told me as his cock nudged my entrance. “I’m clean, I swear, but if you want me to wear a condom, I will.”
Anxiety twisted through me, not because I didn’t believe him, but because of something else. “I’m not on any birth control, Ace. The hormones make me sick.”
We’d never had this discussion before. It was always a given that we’d use condoms every time. We’d never questioned the use of one before.
But I saw the question in his eyes now, as our sexes touched, skin on skin for the first time. The muscles in his jaw popped as he fought for control. Then he pulled away and grabbed his wallet, taking out a foil package.
He laughed. “No kid wants me as a father,” he said as he rolled it on.
I didn’t say anything, just watched his long fingers secure the rubber over his dick. Then remembered the time the condom failed. Remembered how sick I’d been lately.
No. Surely not.
“What’s wrong?” he said as he lowered himself on to me.
I forced a smile. “Nothing. Just make love to me, please.”
His grin was back. “Yes, ma’am.”
Then he was inside me, stretching me, filling me, and nothing else mattered in that moment.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he growled when he was balls deep inside me.
I looked up into his blue eyes. “I’ve missed you too.”
He began to move, long, slow strokes in and out of me, our mouths connected as our bodies rocked together.
He was so powerful and yet gentle as his speed increased, his long, thick cock driving me wild. I wrapped myself around him, my nails digging into his flesh as he impaled me over and over, our love making lasting for hours.
We were both slick with sweat, panting hard when I felt his cock swell, grow even larger inside me. The muscles tightened in his arms as he let out a loud, powerful groan, thrusting wildly now as my body milked his, filling me with warm satisfaction that could only be pure joy.
“I love you, Holly,” he whispered in my ear, his breath still harsh against my skin.
I held onto him tighter. “I love you too.”
There was something powerful about hearing those words while he was buried deep inside of me, our bodies connected so intimately.