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“Deal,” I agree.
Ace flashes me a grin, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears as he drops into training mode. He’s a formidable opponent, always was, but the only thing I’m more in the mood for than fucking, is fighting. I copy his stance, loosening my limbs and getting in the zone. I’m not warmed up, but I have rage on my side. He doesn’t stand a chance.
I take on the role of the aggressor, attacking him with a flurry of punches and jabs, which he blocks easily. I land a kick to his side but he barely reacts. It makes me even madder. Although Ace has done nothing wrong, I take out my anger and frustrations on him. He becomes Baxter in my mind and my attack becomes frenzied. I spar with him, desperately trying to bring him down onto the mats to grapple with me, but he manages to avoid all of my manoeuvres designed to bring him down.
“You were...going easy...on me...before.” I grunt out. His smile is wicked.
“Warm up.”
“And now?” I huff as he lands a solid blow to my solar plexus to bring my concentration back to the mat.
“Teaching.”
“You’re teaching me?” I spin and elbow him in the gut. He grunts but doesn’t shift, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I’m so distracted by the pressing length of him against my ass that I almost miss his reply.
“Be better.”
Before I can figure out what he means, I’m thrown down onto my back and he’s straddling me.
“Get out.”
I frown. What does he mean get out? Why does he want me to leave?
“How can I leave if you’re on top of me?” I huff in frustration, my anger building once again. My brain seems to yo-yo between rage and arousal, both completely distracting and unhelpful right now.
“No. Not leave. Get out. Of hold.”
Oh! I feel like an idiot. My brain’s so scrambled I can’t even begin to fathom how to get out of his hold. I kick and buck, but of course it does no good. Ace has only gotten more built in our time apart. He’s solid. Absolute perfection. And...I’m distracted again.
“Osredotociti!” His bark is gentle but chiding. He leans forward and his body covers mine, moulding into me like the shape of water. One arm crosses my chest, pinning me more firmly in place, but he still makes my heart race and my temperature spike.
Focus.
How can I focus, damn him?!
He doesn’t know what’s going through my mind. He wouldn’t understand how my heart feels like it’s breaking. How I feel betrayed by Baxter. How his silence, his unwillingness to confide is a rejection. How everything is falling apart because if I lose one, I’ve already lost them all.
A sob ricochets around the room and Ace’s arm slides from pinning my chest to hauling me into his embrace. He rolls so that I’m straddling him and then sits, so that I’m cradled in his lap.
“Shh, princesa,” he croons, wiping my tears away and stroking my hair back from my wet face. “It’s okay.”
That only makes me cry harder. Right now, maybe he truly does believe that everything is okay, but in the cold light of day, when everyone wakes, I have some explaining to do.
This isn’t going to work.
I shake my head to argue with him but he silences me with a kiss. It’s so tender, so loving, that my heart breaks all over again. I need him. I need that contact. But I can’t stand the thought of being loved right now.
I deepen the kiss, threading my arms around his neck and tugging at his hair. He doesn’t take the hint, continuing to kiss me like a precious treasure he can’t bear to lose. I wriggle on his lap, groaning in frustration. I can feel that he wants me, so why doesn’t he act, damn it!
I try to take over the kiss, thrusting my tongue into his mouth, speeding up the movement of my lips...he doesn’t respond. I huff, grind against him, scratch my nails down his back.
“No.” He pulls away sharply and fixes me with a hard stare. Ace has never looked at me like that before. My heart crumples.
“No?” I hate the tremble in my voice. Weak. “You don’t want me?”
“Not like.”
“Like what?”
