We sway, barely moving, and I keep looking up and seeing something soft in his jaw, his eyes, his expression. I shiver, unable to stop the feelings coursing through me from taking over.
“Cold?” he asks, voice low.
“No,” I whisper. “It’s just...you...”
He leans in, breath warm on my ear. “Come with me.”
We break away from the fire, feet crunching on the rough sand. The air is thick with salt and smoke. We walk down the beach until the others are only silhouettes, and even their laughter is smothered by the surf. I stop by a half-buried driftwood log and sit, my head spinning in ways that have nothing to do with the alcohol.
Ace sits next to me, close enough that I feel the electricity radiate from his skin. We don’t say anything for a while. The moon is above us now, throwing silver over the water. I start tracing patterns in the sand with my toe. “Do you really beat people up for a living?”
He chuckles. “Yeah.”
“It’s so hard to imagine you fighting like that. I kind of want to see it, but also, I don’t.”
“Maybe when we get out of here, you can come and watch.”
My heart explodes.
“Did you ever—I mean, did you ever—” I don’t know how to ask, but he grins, like he’s expecting it.
“Kill someone?” He shakes his head. “No.”
“Oh. Phew.”
He chuckles again.
I can’t help myself, I reach over and take his hand. He looks at our joined fingers, then up at me. Fuck it. I lean in and kiss him—hard. He tastes like vodka and smoke, and I’m greedy, desperate for him to erase the taste of everything else. He responds in kind, his hands in my hair and then on my neck, and then under the band of my shirt. The world shrinks to this night, the surf, and the thud of my heart against my ribs.
He pulls me onto his lap, and I let him, legs straddling him. Our mouths crush together, and it isn’t gentle. It’s everything I never let myself want. His hands move over my back, my ass, pulling me down so I can feel how hard he is under me. I grind against him, and his breath shudders out. My hands are on hisshoulders, then beneath his shirt, gliding over his bare chest, tracing the scars there, each one a story I want to hear.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, kissing down my neck. “I’m goin’ to need to fuck you, Gracie.”
“But we can’t,” I whimper against his mouth.
He pulls back, grinning, then reaches down and fishes a condom out of his pocket like a goddamn magician.
I burst out laughing. “Where did you even get that?”
“The boat. Found a bag of things and there was a packet in there.”
“Are you going to share with the others?”
He winks at me. “Fuck no.”
I can’t help but laugh, right before his mouth finds mine again.
I don’t have time to think, because he pulls my shorts off in a single motion, and then his jeans are open. I can barely breathe. He rolls the condom on, and I’m suddenly so hungry for him, I could scream. He pulls me back down onto him. I arch my back and gasp at the stretch of his cock sliding in, inch by perfect inch. He grabs my hips and sets a rhythm—slow at first, then faster, until I’m moaning his name into the night. I ride him, grinding my hips, rolling them and tipping my head back as pleasure washes over me.
I find my release first, and I don’t care who hears me.
It is exceptional.
Ace growls, low into my ear as he digs his fingers into my flesh, moving me faster, until he finds his own release with a groan so deep I feel it travel over my skin. Then, when he stops shuddering, our foreheads drop together, breaths tickling each other’s faces.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Gracie,” he murmurs.
“Who would have thought we would find each other like this,” I tease lightly. “Stranded on an island together.”
