The Way Home (Lights of Peril) Read online

  “Why the picture?” Unsure where the hell I’m coming from here or what angle I’m working as I blurt this out, but hell if I don’t feel like putting him on the spot.

  “Shit.” Turning around to face me again, he starts to walk towards me. He’s looking at me he runs his hands through his thick brown hair in frustration.

  I’ve seen him bald, crew cut, and now he wears it long enough that it touches the collar of his shirt. All looks fair the same on Ace, he’s a handsome man.

  “Sade, you know why the picture, don’t make me say it.”

  “Say what? I guess I really don’t understand.” What the hell is he talking about?

  “Sadey, I’ve missed you, okay? I’ve thought about you. I missed being here, do you understand that? I missed being around you, touching you, holding you, laughing with you. I missed you before I even fuckin’ left town that night. You chose Hem, not that it was any kind of competition, but you were with Hem, I was never even given the consideration.”

  I stand there, just looking at his face. I’m speechless and I’m processing this, but at an alcohol induced pace.

  Then he continues. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I never had a chance to tell you that before you and Hem ... the baby, the marriage … I had to leave. I love you and I’ve never loved anyone. Jesus Christ, I did not want to say it like this; out here, at night, when you’re distracted.”

  Oh shit. This is a lot to process and I’m a bit light-headed. I have no reaction. He sees this and becomes more nervous. “Sadey? Say something?”

  “Of course you love me. I know. You and I spent a lot of time together…” I’m cutoff in mid-sentence by a fiery faced Ace who just put his hand over my mouth to stop me from saying anything more.

  As my head spins since I’m still trying to catch up with his words, I don’t get a chance to react to him. The next sensation I feel is his hand withdrawing from my face and then I’m met with his lips taking my bottom lip, sucking it intensely. This is how he’s asking for full entrance.

  I’m so wrapped up in the feel of his touch against my skin, his familiar smell consuming me, and his tongue searching over me relentlessly, that I open slightly and he hastily devours my tongue.

  He’s touching me all over as fast as his hands can move. I feel his body flush with mine as he’s backing me up against the front door. He feels so good, so warm, and I trust him. I’ve always trusted him to do right by me, and I’m giving him this trust again, in the moment.

  As he continues to consume me, my stomach drops and my insides warm. One hand is behind my back, reaching underneath my shirt, lifting it as his calloused thumb is sketching small circles on my bare skin.

  Finally ending our kiss, his mouth travels to my neck, licking at the contour at the end of my throat and from there he creatively wanders his way up to my left ear. The heat from his breath combined with his tongue working over my skin has my insides lusting for more.

  “Fuck, Sadey, I want you. I’ve wanted you since I fuckin’ met you. I think about you over and over; about being in you, on top of you, fucking you. Fuck me, the way you make me feel, it’s like I’m at a loss for control here.”

  He’s eager for me. I can feel his excitement pressing in his jeans; every single inch of it. “I want to feel you, baby. Let me inside.”

  I know immediately he’s not talking about inside the house. Not in the heat of this moment. I nod to him as he makes his play. On my porch, under the cover of darkness, as I’m pushed up against my own front door, I give Ace permission to explore my body as he has wished.

  He lifts my short pencil skirt with his other wrist, using his finger to move my already wet thong to the side and very gently runs his fingers over my clit, back and forth at a continued pace. There is no resistance hindering this motion. I’m wet.

  Using his thumb, he brings blood rushing to my swelling clit as he rubs it. He slides his fingers near my entrance, holding them there as he continues his thumbs momentum. His breathes become shallow, his words raspy and short. “Jesus, Sadey.”

  He knows how he’s making my body feel. I’ve not had to utter a word. The wetness tracing his fingers leaves me now with nothing to hide.

  Using his knee he brushes my thighs apart, inviting me to further open them. I’m grabbing the back of his shirt and my headrests on his shoulder, my face hidden in his neck. I’m breathless as I feel him moving his fingers in and out of me, rocking back and forth. My hips move of their own volition in rhythm, grinding against them, searching for sweet release.

  “Oh God, Ace.” It comes from me as a whisper. That’s all I can muster out loud.

  Once I’ve given him a verbal cue of my arousal, he’s instantly more assertive with his movement. Still holding me to him from behind, my breath pants against the skin of his neck, his arousal presses into me through his jeans, in a motion simulating penetration, again and again.

  His fingers have withdrawn and have moved under my top and yank my bra down. I feel him massaging my nipple between his fingers. Continuing his hip movements into me, he leans down and, not missing a beat, lifts my shirt, and sucks my breast in the same tender manner as he took my lip in his mouth. “Sadey, let me taste you. I fuckin’ smell you from here, please.”

  I’m caught off guard with his words, but fuck I’m turned on. I say nothing, not really knowing what to say.

  “I’m going to taste you. Grab my shoulders.”

  The moment his tongue pushes inside me, I’m lost to my climax. I grab at his hair, moving my hips in motion as he fights to keep them down in place. My neck and head are all I can control and with those I push my head back and rest it into the door, creating a very small, audible knock.

  God, it feels so good to be wanted like this; to be reckless, forgetting about every fuckin’ thing that engulfs me during my daily reality.

  All good things come to an end.

  I see the porch light flicker on and off outside through my closed eyelids. Now, rather than feeling like a sexy and wanted adult, I feel like a fifteen year old girl who just got caught with her boyfriend while getting felt up on the front porch, by her parents.

  My face must reflect my horror, because the moment I push Ace off me, I see that damn dimple again. He thinks this is funny, I think this is humiliating. Fuck, I can see my climax on his mouth. Oh my God, I am horrified.

  “Go inside, Sade. We can talk about everything later. You have my number. Call me soon, alright?” He’s trying to play this cool; however, his arousal is still at full attention in his jeans.

  “Alright … when do you leave to go back to California? If you ever answered the question at dinner, I don’t remember it now, ya know? Sorry.”

  My face is flushed in bold display of lust and need, but now his face holds only annoyance for me and I wish it didn’t. Ace sighs seeing that I’m not going to just let him go without an answer.

  “I don’t know. It isn’t up to me, though I’m kinda enjoying this visit now.” He’s really smiling at me again, similar to the wolf that met ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ on her way to Grandma’s house.

  Wait, I lost a moment. What? It’s not up to him? There it is… that weirdness again. I don’t have time for this. I need to get to my son to check on him, and then I need to ask forgiveness for my public display. I have no idea who I would ask this from, but I need to find someone. This guilt is treacherous.

  I nod and just walk into the house to my boy still sitting with Honor, but now Honor is asleep right along with him. I let out a heavy sigh, mentally thanking anyone and everyone that Honor has no idea what I just let happen on my front porch. Damn, I’m turning into a dirty girl. Shit.

  April smiles as I walk in. I don’t want to think about her watching us through the front window. Even catching a glimpse would solidify my guilt. If she did, I hope my pervert friend enjoyed the damn show; that was my last performance.

  Chapter Eight

  “But after I got them to leave and shut the door and turned
off the light it wasn't any good. It was like saying good-bye to a statue.”

  -Ernest Hemingway

  After the lewd public display on my front porch Saturday night and then mulling it over all day Sunday while avoiding every call to my phone, I’m thankful to be back at the library.

  Gramma has decided my strength is no more than filing, and although I know I don’t need my college degree for this, I am mindful not to take it personally because I won’t do this the rest of my life. I need to find a solid and steady job that pays me what I need to keep Patrick and me in a comfortable life.

  My fear of using my actual degree is that it will take me out of town. Our town is small and architects aren’t exactly in demand. I don’t want to leave, but I have a gift that my father gave me; making buildings beautiful and safe.

  “Damn, Shame is riding my ass. I’m tired. I do not want to be messed with. He is all over the place. ‘Call me when you leave work. Call me when you get to the store. Call me when you take a piss.’ He’s going to get cut-off from any further full bellied, awkward sexual favors until he stops acting like a tyrant.”

  Shit, we got an even more pissed off Mace this morning. Good times.

  “Can you drink coffee yet? I know I haven’t been here long enough to see you without it, but holy hell Mace, you’re just mean.”

  When the doctor told her that caffeine wasn’t good for the baby, he was able to explain why, but only after having to talk over all the loud gasps filling the room. Shame knows how she is. He has to live with her on a daily basis. He gets extra benefits, even if I have no interest in those implied benefits, he still gets them, bastard. I can’t deal with her shit much longer. I’ve kept a mental calendar in my head of when she’s due. The closer we get to the date, the heavier the imaginary ink gets when I go about checking a day off.

  “You know I can’t. I can only drink water, but I miss Joe.” She puts her head down on the desk, hiding in her arms, attempting to be dramatic. She doesn’t have to attempt anything. Mace without coffee is more drama than anyone here wants to handle.

  My point is well served, though. She has a specific name for coffee, generally to be used as a reference, but she includes ‘Joe’ as a member of her family, of her life.

  “Shame tried to give me that decaf fake stuff and then he tells me I shouldn’t use fake sugar or cream because it could hurt the baby. He’s driving me nuts, guys. I’m not going to make it.” She sits her head back down with a thunk, to display further frustration.

  “Mace, you are driving us nuts. You’re so bitchy without, ‘Joe’. I have had you in small doses, but look at little Peyton over there at her desk. She won’t even make eye contact with you, will you, Peyton?” I say all this loud enough in order to lure Peyton into backing my play here, but she won’t look at either of us. She’s straight scared of ‘Decaf Mace.’

  Peyton is still not looking in our direction as she finally speaks up. “Don’t pull me into this. You just started here. I have emotional scars that are almost visible from dealing with her and, ‘Joe’ separating months ago. I would be well within my right to say that there were times I know she flipped me off as I walked away.”

  “See now, decaf dragon. You have nothing to say about Shame. He just wants you and the baby safe.”

  She squints her eyes and wrinkles her nose at the reference I’ve made of her, but she continues in a serious tone. “No, this is more than that, girl. Something is up. I heard him talking to Hood and it wasn’t their usual friendly or brotherly conversation. He told him he didn’t believe something Hood was trying to explain to him. He was pissed off about it, like visibly shaking kind of pissed off. I should have positioned myself closer to the call, but since I’m the size of Amsterdam I’ve lost my ability to go incognito.”

  Poor Mace. Hot guy, friends that love her, beautiful child on the way … sure, I feel so terrrrrible for her being big in belly.

  “Well, I’m done here. I’m going home early today since Cherry has some type of dental follow-up appointment that she’s all nervous about. She’s got Patrick this morning.”

  Hem is still paying her bills from her assault last year. She’s not back to being the Cherry we knew, but she’s on her way.

  “Alright honey. Will see you later.” Mace is trying to endear herself to me after being such a wench all morning. F-O-R-G-E-T it.

  Peyton finally takes her eyes off her computer as she sees us walk by her desk on our way out. “Wait. I want to ask you guys if you think it would be possible if we go to Shell Horns before I leave next month. Please? I promise it will be F-U-N!”

  I take a quick step back, waiting for Mace to explode at her usage of letters. Mace doesn’t react, she just looks sad. I start to ask her what’s wrong, but she beats me to it with her ridiculous excuse. “I can’t go. Look at me. I won’t even fit in our old booth. Can’t we just please stay in for a girls night?”

  I love that Peyton isn’t backing down. This is her goodbye party. We are going to give her this. “No, Mace. This is important to me. I want to use that little fake ID just one more time. C’mon. You will have fun. You don’t have to dance…you can watch our drinks.”

  No, she did not just say that to Mace.

  “Whatever. Fine. I will ’watch drinks.’ Whatever.” Again, poor Mace has it so rough.

  “Alright then. No guys either. Just us. Derek can stay with Gramma and keep packing. I want to go Thursday night. Is that okay? I’m off Friday and I’m going to pack all weekend for the big M-O-V-E.”

  Mace gives her an eye roll and walks me to the door. She never walks me to the door, ever. Hell, as of late, she doesn’t ever even say goodbye to me. “Hey, I know you think I’m ranting about Shame’s mood, but I’m not. He’s acting as if someone is going to come up from the ground and snatch me. I’m not paranoid. I don’t want to scare you because Ace means something to me, too, but this all started when he came back. I have to wonder if he didn’t bring something back with him.”

  “Well thanks for scaring the shit out of me right before I walk to my car alone, get my son alone, and then go home to an empty house … alone. Shit, Mace, got anything else for me? You want to break it out to me now that Freddy Kruger is real also? No wait, is Vanilla Ice making a comeback?” I laugh in her face, because she still makes fun of Shame and his vanilla ice cream preference, bitch that she can be.

  “Shut up. Just do what I’m telling ya. Be careful. Help a fat woman’s blood pressure not rise, huh?” I lean to her, around her belly, and give her a hug.

  “Sure, got it. I promise I will call you when I get to my car, get my boy, go home, and again when I piss.”

  As I turn around she smacks my ass and it takes everything I have not to throw a ‘pink’ comment her direction.

  On my way home I stop and pick up some Mexican food for lunch. I can’t help but think of how I’m looking forward to going to Shell Horn’s with the girls again. I will admit that seeing Peyton leave hurts. She’s one of us and she’s not going to be spreading her damn cheer everywhere anymore.

  I’m tired for no reason. I’ve slept so well lately that I’m actually making myself wake in the night to check on Patrick. Normally I don’t need to since I haven’t been sleeping much the past six months, but since Ace came back I sleep soundly, even alone in my house.

  Shame being nervous does put me on edge. The man is fearless, with only one exception. When people he loves are in danger he’s a tyrant. This is an indication that I need to take heed to the warning and watch my surroundings carefully.

  I’ve got Patrick picked up from a smiling Cherry. If I didn’t know her better I would think she was crushing on Ace a bit. She asks me constantly if I’ve seen him, how he is doing, and if I know when he’s going back to California. She hasn’t ever dated anyone that I know of, so maybe it’s not a crush, but she definitely likes him.

  Finally I’m home. Patrick fell asleep in the car on the way here, so again, I have about six minutes to myself before he s
tarts stirring. Just like any other man, his patience is limited.

  I’m changing out of work clothes and as I come down the hall I hear a loud knock on the door. My heart races and I run to where Patrick sits in his car seat in the living room. Damn it, Mace Cash, you have me acting insane. It could be anyone. It doesn’t have to be Freddy Kruger coming to take me in my dreams.

  When I make it to the door, I see his familiar face. Ace is here. He’s allowed me to avoid him for one whole day. Like I said about men, patience challenged.

  Opening the door quickly to avoid the Patrick fury that awaits if awoken in under his six minutes, I see Ace, and his dimple. I’m embarrassed to look at him in the light of day, but need to get this initial face to face over with and press on.

  “Hi, I wanted to stop by and see how things were with you. I tried calling you all day yesterday, but you didn’t answer. I was worried, but now I see you’re fine and you just chose not to answer?” He’s phrasing his run on statement framed as a question, just in case I want to respond. I don’t. I have avoided him for a reason. Getting my ‘shit together’ should never have included being felt up, sucked on, and devoured by, someone that I admit I wouldn’t want to live without, but this is exactly how friendships get ruined.

  I need to make a play for casual, see how far affected he is compared to me after our evening together.

  “Do you want to come in? I was just going to dish up lunch. I have enough to share. Are you hungry?”

  “No. I’m taking Cherry to her dental appointment. She’s nervous.” Didn’t see that coming, but didn’t discount it either.

  “Good, she needs a friend and you’re a good one.” He flinches at my words, but it is true, so I’m sayin’ it.

  His face gets hard. He’s instantly angry and we haven’t talked about anything. “Just wanted to check if you were okay. Have a nice evening.”

  He turns and leaves without another word. I’ve offended him. I put him in the friend zone for a mere second and he didn’t like it. Sex with someone you know and already love feels so God damn good, but hell if the morning isn’t a buzzkill.