Beware 2: The Comeback Read online

  “I know that’s not what you want,” he murmurs, dropping his chin. His lips are a breadth away. So close. Too agonizingly tempting. “You wanted to forget about me… I know. You thought I was dead, so you wanted to forget, just like you did with your parents and Jonah.” I tip my chin, breathing shallow. “But you can’t forget me. You can pretend you’ve forgotten about me, but I don’t care because, deep down, I know I am what you’ve been craving for, Red. I am what you’ve been seeking. I’m the only person that can truly fulfill your needs. I’m the only one you want… the only one that can make you cum with just one simple stroke.” He runs the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, tracing it so lightly and so slowly I quiver. I’m wetter now. So damp between my legs. “So, fuck Greg,” he bites in a low growl, gripping my face in his hands. I gasp as he applies pressure to his grip, just enough to express his dominance. “He isn’t who you want. I’m who you want. I’m who you need. I’m impossible for you to forget.”

  Heavy breathing fills the kitchen. I keep my head up, positioned in his grasp, my mind refusing to give in but my body betraying me. I waver, and my eyes start to seal. I know this is wrong. I know I should’ve kicked him out of my house when I first heard his voice, but I couldn’t.

  This is Ace.

  This is the man I love.

  This is a dangerous man, yes, but a man I will never drift away from. Someone I will never forget.

  He is all I ever wanted, and now that I have him back, I refuse to let him go again. This is a second chance, the second chance I didn’t get with my family. The second chance I deserve. I squeeze my eyes tighter, but Ace holds my chin, ordering me to look at him.

  I open them slowly, and when I look into his, I see sincerity. I see heart. I see longing. Pain masked with nostalgia. I see everything, and I fall face forward into a sea of yearning. I fall without wanting to be saved. I fall hard for him, all over again. Empathetically.

  His lips are still close, so close I can feel the heat of them. I want the light trace of his lips on mine—the hunger I know I’ll feel once he finally presses them against mine. After he releases my face, his eyes blazing, I’m finally granted what I solely desire.

  Picking me up in his arms, Ace crushes my lips with a hard groan and plants my ass on the countertop. Demanding hands rip at my shorts, the fabric tearing as he yanks them down. Deep groans fill the kitchen, along with unwavering moans. After snatching at his belt, I lock my arms around his neck, and his belt jingles as his pants drop. His cock presses on my thigh, and a slight thrill swirls through me. He’s much bigger than Greg. Much thicker.

  Pulling me towards the counter’s edge, his tongue toying with mine, he presses his perfect cock at my entrance, and I still. My pussy holds no resistance to him. I’m wet for him. Eager for him. I’ve been ready for him, begging for this moment to happen month after month. He slides in with ease, and, inch by inch, my lips part, recalling just how good it feels for him to be inside me. He nips at my bottom lip, and my frantic hands cup his face, hanging on for dear life as he fucks me on the counter.

  “Oh, Ace,” I breathe. “God, I missed this. I missed this”—I place a fervent kiss on his anxious lips—“so much,” I whisper. “So much.”

  He thrusts hard and quick, for every minute, for every month spent without me. Relentless pounding for every year he lost, every second, and damn if it doesn’t feel amazing. For each second I spent without him, I now refuse to hold back.

  “Tell me you want me to stay,” he grumbles in my ear, grabbing a handful of my hair and tilting my head back. “Tell me you want me to fight for you, because I will, Red,” he pants. “I will fucking fight for you.”

  I claw at his back, and before I realize it, my eyes have rolled to the back of my skull. He picks me up off the counter, gently slamming my back on the wall. Grasping my ass, he drills like there’s no tomorrow, fucking me as if his life depends on it.

  My body grows hot, wild. Oh, how I’ve missed him. He’s the only man that can truly satisfy me, and now that he’s back—now that I’ve gotten another taste—I know I’ve just fallen head first into his clutches. I know, just as well as he does, that I’m not going anywhere—that I won’t let him go anywhere.

  “Tell me,” he urges. “Now. Tell me.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” I breathe. “I want you to stay. I want you, Ace. I need you.”

  Ace groans and stiffens. “Ahh… fuck, Red.” I know that sound. I’ve missed that sound. An unexplainable, yet thrilling noise. His thighs lock, and he stills inside me, clutching my ass tightly in his hands as he releases years of pent up frustrations and need. “Fuck, you feel so fucking amazing.”

  My head rolls before I press the back of it against the wall. Before pulling out and softly kissing my lips, Ace places me on my feet. I wobble a bit, forgetting just how it feels to be banged and screwed by Crow.

  After pulling my shorts back on and allowing Ace to adjust himself, I turn in his direction, sighing. “You can’t show up here again… not like that. Greg is—”

  “Captain of a police department,” he fills in for me, cocking a brow and fixing his tie. “Already know. Stupid choice, Red.”

  “He’s a good guy,” I say defensively.

  “Were you that desperate to forget about me?”

  I start to speak, but the words get lodged in my throat. Although I was, I don’t want to argue. Not right now. I turn around, making my way to the sink. Ace exhales and follows closely behind me, wrapping his arms across my middle. “Ace.” My voice is firm but I don’t say anything more. The feel of him behind me, the needed warmth, allows gentle flutters to take over the pit of my belly. Comforting heat consumes me, even more when he places a kiss on my shoulder and then the bend of my neck. I’m abrupt to turn in his arms, my head moving from side to side. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “What? Making you remember me?”

  “No…” I meet his eyes. “Making me choose.”

  His jaw locks, caught completely off guard by my statement. I expect him to say something—anything—but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls away, allowing a gap to form between us. “Should go.” He turns, but I catch his elbow, spinning him back around with a scowl.

  “No, Ace. Why?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try and explain,” I beg.

  He looks me over, and after moments of watching my face, his is sullen. The kitchen fills with a silence that nearly suffocates me. It doesn’t happen often, but his face saddens, and for once, he’s not quite sure what to say. “The pain,” he whispers, fighting with words. “The pain I see in your eyes, London. That’s because of me.” He turns in my direction, holding my face in his hands. “I want you back. I want my son in my life, but I know how hard that will be for you—coming back to me, a man who’s clearly no good for you.”

  I stare at him, confused, and as he starts to pull away, I realize what he’s trying to say. “Ace,” I call in a whisper.

  “I see what you have here, Red.” He lets out a dry laugh, taking a quick sweep of the kitchen with his eyes. “I see how hard you worked to really move on.”

  I rush for him, cupping his face and locking my gaze with his. “No… you don’t understand,” I say, tears burning my eyes. “You don’t understand that I’m still not over you. I’ve never gotten over you. Greg is just a—” My mouth clamps shut. Reality sets in, and I stop myself before I say what I really mean. I can’t admit that… not to Ace.

  As if he already knows what was about to be said, Ace tilts his head and cocks a brow. “Distraction?”

  I drop my hands, refusing to confirm. He scans me through thin eyelids. I step back and look away, and luckily, he doesn’t continue the conversation. Instead, he flicks his wrist to check his watch. “Picking you up at six,” he says as he steps back.

  My eyebrows stitch when I look up. “No, Ace, you’re not. I can’t just leave when I please anymore—”

  “You will. Either you come
with me or I come back in here.”

  I scoff. “You’re kidding.”

  “Serious, babe. You know me. I’d break up a happy home for my own… even though you aren’t exactly happy here.”

  “I’m satisfied. That’s good enough.” I fold my arms. “Ten times better than mourning over someone that wasn’t even dead.”

  Ace lets out a smooth laugh that warms me up inside, taking a few more steps back. “Tonight at six. Be ready. Hire a sitter for my son.” Hesitation masks his face. He lifts his head a fraction. “I need to meet him.”

  “Soon.” His lips press thin, and his eyes flash from the beaming sun flooding in through the window behind. “Just… not yet, Ace. He’s a child. He’s young. I don’t want to confuse him. The only male role model he knows right now is Greg.”

  He blinks a few times before staring at me with utter disbelief. I’m sure that hurt to hear. I want to make him feel better about what I’ve just said, but I’m uncertain what to say. I’m sure it hurts to know his son considers another man his father. It hurts him to know Aden is looking up to someone else.

  Even though I want to say so much more, I’m not given the opportunity because Ace stalks out of the kitchen, and on his way out the front door, he says, “Six sharp, London. I mean it. Much to discuss.”

  Man On The Moon – Kid Cudi

  “What are you getting dressed for?” Bianca asks as I make my way to the bathroom. She runs her eyes up and down my frame, scrunching her nose. “Lavender? Why lavender? That’s definitely not you.”

  I glance down at my tie, pressing my lips before looking up. “Wanted to wear a softer color for her.”

  Her eyes cloud with sorrow. “Aw, Ace,” she coos. She stands from the bed, making her way towards me. She takes the untied tie from around my neck and then trots to the closet, picking through the variety. “London isn’t as soft as she used to be, you know.” She switches gazes between a teal and a magenta tie. “She’s become solid in a way.” She goes with the magenta and pulls down a black, Italian cut suit. “Ahh, this is perfect for her.”

  “Why do you say that?” I ask as she stuffs the outfit in my hand. “About London…”

  She folds her arms, stepping back. “A lot has changed since then, Ace.”

  “Clearly,” I mutter, turning around and entering the bathroom.

  “I just think she’s tougher now. I meant nothing by it. I know a part of her tough exterior was because she thought she lost you, plus she has someone to remain strong for. She’s lost so many. She has no choice but to be.”

  “Hmm.”

  Bianca’s lips twist as she uncrosses her arms. “Can I ask you something?”

  “If it’s about me taking her out, no. And aren’t you supposed to be in New Jersey?”

  “Flight was delayed. I have my assistant getting things ready. The show starts at ten, so I’m going to be a little late, but I’ll be out of here in a few.” She waves the topic off. “But it’s not that.”

  “What is it?”

  “Your death… why was it staged? And who took you? Whose ashes were used for the autopsy?”

  I look down at her, reliving the nightmare. Anger surfaces as memories flood me, and I clench my fists.

  “Tell me where the money is! All your connections with the trade! Tell me!” West barked, bringing his calloused hands to my neck. He held on tight, nearly strangling me. I choked for air, but I refused to beg for mercy. “Tell me where the motherfucking money is!” He released me, and I gasped, buckling forward with the shackles locked tight around my wrist.

  I wheezed, rasping a quick, “Fuck you, you fat, sloppy bitch.” Anger captured West, and a heavy, solid fist slammed into my face, causing me to crash into the wall and black out for hours.

  “There are things we should leave in the past,” I tell Bianca before shutting the bathroom door in her face.

  “Ace,” she calls, but I ignore her, locking it behind me. She calls my name again, rattling the doorknob to get in, but I turn the faucet on, hoping to drown out her pleading voice with the white noise.

  Eventually, she gives up, and I exhale, clutching the edge of the sink. I squeeze the cool porcelain until my fingers go numb, shutting my eyes and breathing unevenly.

  I pant.

  My body vibrates with rage.

  I’m tormented by three years of being beaten, abused, and belittled. I’m fucked up, that’s for damn sure. At one point, I thought I’d be in that cell forever. I hated thinking negatively because I always sought a way out of a bad situation one way or another. I guess the only good thing that came out of being raised by Bruce was the fact that he didn’t raise a quitter. His taunting became of good use to me.

  But West is dead. He’s gone, but I know he was working with someone. A “bigger shark” as he put it. This is why I find it hard to trust anyone. I just can’t help but wonder who would be bold enough to try and take me down and think I wouldn’t look into it when I made it out alive?

  Obviously someone I know, otherwise they would’ve had West kill me. Someone who knows my weaknesses. Someone who wants my business and is willing to wait patiently for it. Someone who knows I have secrets of the trade and needs them. That is the only reason I’m still breathing. Someone who would rather see me suffer than die.

  A knock sounds on the door, and my eyes pop open as Maurice speaks up. “Ace, you all good in there, man?”

  “Fine,” I call. I turn the faucet off, change into the suit Bianca handpicked for me, and after spraying on some cologne, I stare into the mirror. A crooked smile takes over my lips when I realize I’m back.

  I’m fucking back.

  Those three years now mean nothing. They were a minor set back—a set back I honestly deserved—but I’m here. And soon, my empire will be bigger than it ever was before.

  My kingdom will be impenetrable.

  Unbreakable.

  Indestructible.

  This time, I’ll be sure of it. But first, I need my Red. I need her back in my life for good. What’s the point of ruling a kingdom if there’s no queen to share it with?

  She is my queen. My soulmate. My life.

  She may feel stuck—torn—but I’ll fix that. I will get her back. I don’t care if it’s the last thing I do on this earth.

  ***

  Streetlights flicker past, and I flip my wrist to check my Rolex. 5:54. “How much longer?” I ask the driver.

  “Not too long, Mr. Crow. We’ll be there at exactly six. I give you the go ahead right now to fire me if we aren’t.” Max chuckles, clutching the wheel and glancing in the rearview mirror at me. I stare back out the window.

  I was nervous as hell earlier, walking in on London. I wasn’t sure how she would react to me walking in so boldly, or seeing me period. But I knew a woman like London needed that. She needed me to charge in. She needed me to show her exactly what she’s missed—what she’s longed for. That nothing between us has changed.

  A smile tingles at my lips when I remember just how good it felt to be inside her again. After so many years, stroking into her wet and eager pussy felt miraculous. I was dying to do so much more, but I had to control myself. I had to leave her hanging. I had to give her space and let her think. I know she’ll be walking out of her front door and coming to me at six.

  And as Max pulls up to the curb and the door swings open as I look towards the house, I smirk. London is a girl of risks. She’s a lover of the unknown. I am the unknown.

  She stops in front of the door, adjusting her dress before tucking her black clutch beneath her armpit. Her sequined, black dress shimmies around her curves as she trots toward the truck. Max starts to get out of the car, but I stop him.

  “Got it,” I say before pushing out of the car. The California breeze brushes past me as I walk around the front of the car. I breathe in the salty air, allowing it to relax me. London stops walking just before reaching the last step, her hazel eyes wide. “Coming?” I ask, reaching for the door handle.

  H
er lips part as if she wants to speak. I pull back, turning face-forward in her direction. Just as I begin to say something, her heels click across the pavement, and she steps past me, pulling the car door open herself. “Let’s just go.”

  I step back. Once she’s inside, I close the door behind her. With half a smile on my lips, I make my way back around the truck, pulling open the door and sliding in. Max pulls off immediately, rolling the privacy window up and giving me a quick wink before doing so. Those were the orders I’d given him, but I’ve never had a driver so cheesy.

  London whips her head, glaring at the window before looking at me. “Why is he doing that?”

  “Because I told him to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we need privacy.”

  She lowers her head. “Ace, we can’t have privacy. What happened earlier… that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  “Don’t lie to yourself.”

  Her head drops, and her auburn hair curtains around her face. I can’t see her, but I don’t look away. “I’ve been feeling guilty ever since it happened. I shouldn’t be feeling this way.”

  “Feeling what way, London?”

  “Like I’m breaking…” She looks up, meeting my eyes. “I was doing good… getting better. Taking life one-step at a time. But now… now it’s all a fucked up, jumbled, complicated mess again. Now,” her head shakes swiftly as she snatches her gaze away, “…I don’t know what the hell to do anymore.”

  Other than the radio quietly playing in the background, all is silent between us. I’m not sure what to say. I have to admit, I didn’t think this conversation would be the first to happen tonight. I knew it was coming soon though.

  “But,” she sighs, shrugging “…maybe it’s meant to be like this, you know?”

  I frown when she looks up.

  “Maybe my life is meant to be fucked up and discombobulated. Maybe I’m never going to gain the peace I deserve—”