This kiss isn't gentle. It isn't sweet.
It's feral.
He kisses me like he's starving and I'm the only thing that's ever fed him. His hands tighten in my hair. He tilts my head back and deepens it until I can't tell where I end, and he begins. His tongue finds mine, and I moan into his mouth.
I grab the front of his shirt with both fists and pull him harder into me. My back hits the side of his truck, and he's walked me backward without me realizing, pinned me between the metal and his body, and the weight of him pressing against me is the first thing that's felt right in years.
His mouth moves to my jaw. My neck. That spot below my ear he found when we were seventeen and has owned ever since. I gasp. My fingers claw at his shoulders, his back, dragging at his shirt because I need his skin, I need to know this is real.
"Ace—"
He swallows the word. Kisses it right off my lips.
His hands drop from my hair to my waist. He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around him. My back presses harder against the truck. His hips pin me in place. Chest to chest. Mouth to mouth.
Taking my breath away. He can have anything of mine, I belong to Ace Sterling.
He pulls back. Just enough to look at me. His forehead against mine, his breathing ragged. His dark eyes are so close I can see every fleck of green.
"Say it," he rasps.
I know what he wants. He's been waiting for it longer than anyone should ever have to wait.
It’s the one thing that will never change until I die.
"I love you." My voice breaks. "I love you, Ace. I never stopped. I never will. And I'm done running. I want you."
His eyes close. His jaw clenches. When he opens them, they're glassy. Ace Sterling, the man who rides bulls and fights in bars. The man who has never once let me see him cry has tears in his eyes.
"Say it again," he whispers.
"I love you."
"Again."
"I love you, you stubborn, reckless, beautiful…"
He kisses me. This time so hard I can’t breathe.
"I've been waiting six years to hear that, Goldie." His voice is rough against my cheek. "Don't make me wait that long again."
I laugh through the tears, press my face into his neck, and breathe him in.
"Promise me," he mutters.
"I promise."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Ace
I press myself harder against her, my cock aching in my jeans.
"What's it going to be, pretty girl? You comin' home with me or is that a goodbye kiss?" I ask.
Her fingers trail down my abs, and she cups me through my jeans. My vision whites out for a second. It’s been a long time.
"I need you, Ace. Right fucking now," she breathes out. Her eyes are full of fire. The Harper I remember. The one who takes what she wants and doesn't apologize for it.
