Ace's Wild. Sarah McCarty

really changed. Except this. This kiss changed everything. And she didn’t even know what she was inviting.

      It was a fleeting pressure, surprisingly soft, surprisingly sweet. A kiss just like he’d asked for. But not what he wanted. And damn, if this was all he was ever going to have, he was going to have it the way he wanted. Cupping Pet’s skull in his hand, Ace forestalled her escape with the slight pressure of his fingers against the back of her neck. He expected struggle, but she didn’t move, just stood there looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were heavy lidded and ripe with the question within. The perfect picture of a woman enthralled. Everything inside him perked. It was a struggle to find his voice.

      “The deal was a real kiss, a kiss like you meant it.”

      She blinked. “That’s how I kiss when I mean it.”

      She couldn’t be that green. Not at her age with her bold manner. “No one kisses like that when they mean it.”

      She blinked at him again, and he realized that maybe she really was that naive. Maybe that pressure-on-pressure kiss was, to her, boldness itself. If that was the case, it was a damn shame. Pet was a woman of passion, and no woman of passion should go through life thinking that casual contact constituted lust, certainly not any woman that kissed him. If Pet was going to walk away from him today and tell someone tomorrow that she got Ace Parker to do what she wanted by kissing him, it was going to be a goddamn kiss that both of them remembered fondly.

      “I’ve seen your serious, my Pet, and that wasn’t it.”

      “My name is Petunia.”

      How the hell she managed to stick that aristocratic nose in the air while in his embrace, he had no idea, but she managed it. It ticked him off more than her My name is Peturnia, and to you, Miss Wayfield amused him.

      “I prefer Pet.”

      Licking her lips, she stepped to the side, away from the wall. “You make me sound like a dog.”

      “Oh, you’re much more valuable than a dog.”

      Her “Gee, thanks” made him smile. As did the little wiggle she did for freedom. He let her smooth her skirts and tug on that tight jacket that made the most of her curves before spreading his fingers across her nape and tickling the sensitive skin. She shivered. He did it again. No shiver this time, but the sharp intake of breath was even more satisfying. It said she was still aware of him.

      He took a step forward, and she took a step back in a now-familiar dance. He turned slightly, angling in with his body so that the wall was behind her again. The image of her standing there, arms pinned above her head, helpless in his arms while he ravished her mouth, wouldn’t leave his mind.

      Once again her hand pressed against his chest. But this time in denial. Raising an eyebrow at her, he pointed out the obvious.

      “If you want me to give up my winnings to a man who doesn’t deserve it, I’m going to want more than that quick peck.”

      “You’re not giving it up for a man. You’re giving it up for a boy.”

      “It’s a hell of a lot of money. You’re a fool if you think I’m giving it back for a kiss my grandmother might give me.”

      Her nails bit slightly through the fabric of his shirt in irritation. His cock throbbed. He wanted her.

      “I’m not a fool,” she growled.

      No, she wasn’t. She was just doing what she could because she didn’t think anybody else cared, and maybe they didn’t. It was easy to forget about the people that lived on the edge, he knew. He’d been forgotten about most of his life. But the one thing good about living on edges is that it made a body tough.

      “Did you ever think that growing up as he is might work for Terrance as an adult?”

      The shake of her head was immediate. “He’s a scholar not a fighter.”

      “You said he was eight.”

      “Some things you can just tell.”

      Ace sighed. “And you want to save him.”

      She didn’t even try to deny it. “He’s a bright child, too bright for such a future.”

      A do-gooder to the core. “You can’t control everything.”

      “No, but I can give him this chance.”

      He backed her up another step, controlling her movement with his body and his fingers on the back of her neck. And she went, as soft and as sweet as if she knew what he needed. He tucked the information away, even though he knew he shouldn’t. This was one woman with whom he couldn’t play his games, a good woman. Too good for him, which was why he had no business taking that last step that brought her back up against the wall. But he took it anyway.

      “What are you doing?”

      He smiled at the question. “Taking my kiss.”

      When she opened her mouth to protest, he shook his head. “Trust me, you don’t want to say it.”

      “You don’t even know what it is!”

      He liked the fire indignation put in her eyes. He liked to bring the fire out in her. Liked to know he could make her burn when others only left her cold.

      Pressing his lips against her forehead, he said quietly, “I know. Now, come here.”

      She did. Spreading his legs so she was trapped between them, he leaned down until his chest pressed against hers, and he could feel the tips of her breasts poking into his shirt. Those nipples could have been hard because the air was cooling, or they could be hard because she found him as attractive as he found her. Ace leaned in a little farther, testing his resolve, teasing his desire. She didn’t back up, couldn’t back up, and that only tempted him more. She was imprisoned between his body and the wall, helpless, and that little catch in her breath as he bent his head, his shadow blocking the sun from her eyes, just brought all of his lust to the fore. His cock hardened to the point of pain; his heart picked up its beat.

      When his mouth was a hair’s breadth from hers, he murmured, “This time kiss me like you know what you’re doing.”

      He wasn’t at all surprised with the immediate “I know how to kiss.” His Pet was a fighter. Smiling into her eyes, he gave her something to hold on to.

      “Prove it.”

      * * *

      DEAR HEAVENS, HE wanted her to prove it. Staring up into Ace’s light blue eyes, searching for sanity, Petunia only found more temptation than an on-the-shelf woman should be forced to confront. Honest to goodness curl-her-toes and burn-her-reputation-in-perdition temptation. And it was harder to resist than any sermon preached. Because it felt so good. Surrounded by Ace’s arms, his scent, his heat, she found it amazingly easy to imagine succumbing to her baser instincts, to wallow in the sheer pleasure of his weight against her, to tempt him the way Eve had tempted Adam. Except she wanted to offer Ace so much more than an apple. And she wanted him to take it. All of it. Everything she could give. The fact that he would wasn’t the scary thing it should have been.

      She was sure she wasn’t the first woman that Ace had wanted. His conquests littered the town. But he might just be the only man who’d ever truly wanted her. Not to prove a point. Not to gain access to her family’s power or money, but because she was a woman he found attractive. Her fingers curled into his chest. The immediate hitch in his breathing padded her confidence. Inside, she started smiling. He really did want her.

       Prove it.

      For the skip of a heartbeat, she didn’t know if she could. She was a spinster. A suffragette. A scholar. What did she know of kissing the socks off a man? As if sensing her panic—which was silly since she hadn’t given any outward sign of her distress—Ace nudged her thigh with his knee.

      “Want me to bend down?”

      His voice, deeper than normal,