He glares. “Bender needs me. He’s my bestie—bestie privileges.”
Bender’s going to get a partner one day, and he won’t need Ace like he does now. It’s not good for him, and I wish he’d see that. “There are plenty of ways for you to be there for Bender without cuddling on the bus. What if I did that with someone, hmm? Would you still be okay with it so long as we were ‘besties’?”
He sighs. “No.” He mutters something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“This is why I don’t get involved. So many rules. Can’t you make one exception? Just the one?”
His goddamn puppy eyes. I’m close to breaking, but this isn’t something I can bend on.
“I’m a possessive bastard, baby. Sorry.” I brush my thumb over the lips I can’t have.
Why is my heart beating so damn fast?
“Okay,” he says.
I frown. “Okay?”
“Well, yeah. You’ve always respected my boundaries, and this seems like a big deal to you. A limit. I guess we don’t have to cuddle, and I can still be there for him, but you’re not gonna go bananas if we touch each other in platonic ways, are you?”
“Can’t promise that. It’ll depend on my mood, which will determine if I spank you for it or not. But so long as there’s no canoodling, we’re good. Definitely no kisses of any kind,” I add, remembering that little kiss to Bender’s head.
“Yeah, you looked like you were about to have an aneurysm.” He laughs.
“You need a spanking.”
That cuts off his laughter real fast. “I’ve already been punished.”
“Believe me, that was no punishment.”
And for some reason, that makes me want to kiss him more than I’ve ever wanted to kiss him. Maybe because I know we’re the same on the inside.
I know that we fit.
17
Ace
Luke.
That fucking asshole.
Damn him straight to hell. Because of him, I have the worst case of morning wood I’ve ever had. Since I opened my eyes this morning, I imagined Luke getting dropped into a pit of vipers. And of course—of course—in my mind, he doesn’t just die horribly. No. He valiantly fights them all off with those big, stupid man muscles of his, twisting them into pretzels and strutting around in his boxers with one he tamed, slung around his neck like a victory scarf.
Even in my revenge fantasies, he ruins everything with his undeniable hotness and over-the-top alpha male machismo.
Worse? That little fantasy was so hot, my miserable dick cried cum tears, and I can’t even do anything about it. I mean, I guess I could. I can exit what we’ve got going on at any time. But let’s be real. All I want in life right now is that callused hand wrapped around my cock.
Okay, and maybe that massive hog of a cock pounding me into the mattress. It’s quickly becoming my whole personality.
And, alright,alright, maybe there are at least forty-two other things that have been showcased in fantasies since meeting Luke VanCourt. He’s already making one of them come true, even though it’s annoying as fuck. The boxers he ruined with his hunting knife? He’s making me wear them for the rest of this trip as a way of “being with me when he’s not with me,” and a reminder of who I belong to.
Didn’t know how much I was gonna fucking love this shit.
“Every time you feel a breeze, you’ll think about Daddy,” he said.
“And you said you weren’t romantic,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “What about when I’m changing in the locker room? The guys might notice.”
