I swallowed hard. It wasn’t the article that I’d intended to write. I’d interviewed Benny before. Way back. Three months ago. I’d interviewed him because he came from a military family, because they were all so proud of him. He was one of those guys who got care packages all the time, whose family really understood what he was doing over there because his father, his grandfather, and his great-grandfather had all served our nation.
But Benny had never wanted to be there. And he’d ended up leaving before his tour of duty was up. We’d emailed since then, all through the secure server. I didn’t know where Benny had ended up or what he planned to do now. It was all I could do to tell the story about the kid from New York who had ended up in Kuwait because he’d never felt like he had any other choice. About how everything he did over there felt like one step further from who he really was. And how eventually it had all been too much.
I didn’t want to talk about stuff like that, not with Ace. I knew that Ace had seen things I could only imagine. But I liked to think of him as different from the rest of them. He wasn’t an angel, I knew. But I didn’t want to think of him as the kind of guy who made the tough decisions about killing men and burning villages. Even if that was who he was.
“You’ve never written an article about me,” Ace said.
I looked over at him in surprise. “Do you want me to?” I asked reflexively. Even as I said it, it seemed like such a stupid thing to say. Even if Ace wanted me to, I couldn’t even start to think about what I’d say. It wasn’t just that his beauty was distracting. But he was still so maddeningly closed off. He was the only guy there who I could never get to open up to me, not even a little. He didn’t want to talk about his missions, didn’t want to talk about the heaps of praise the other guys on the crew gave him.
He just wanted to talk about me and my life back home. As though it was making things easier on both of us to talk about stupid things like Boston and my years as a journalist.
“I don’t want you to,” Ace said. He frowned off into the distance and then smirked, shaking his head. When he looked over at me, his eyes were teasing. “But I do wonder what you think about me.”
I shrugged and looked away, toward the solitary building I lived in. It was smaller than the rest of the barracks, but it was my personal space. There had been a couple other women who came through whom I’d shared it with, but they were generally only there for a couple weeks at a time before leaving. Medics, other journalists, things like that. No one ever stayed for six months like I had.
“I think you’re a dedicated soldier,” I told Ace. “I think you have your secrets, and sometimes I wonder what they are.”
“I know,” Ace said. We had reached my door by this point, and he crowded me back against the wall, his body looming over mine.
I felt curiously safe, even hemmed in like that.
He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. “I see you looking at me. Watching me.”
I shrugged, as though that nonchalant move could hide the beating of my heart. “You’re nice to look at,” I said.
I expected Ace to laugh, but instead he just stared at me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he leaned in toward me, his face impossibly close to mine. I couldn’t help the way my gaze darted down toward his lips, the way my whole body wanted him.
His lips, when they met mine, were rough, slightly chapped, but they slotted perfectly against mine. I leaned up on my toes, tugging on his shirt as I tried to get closer to him, and he pulled away, laughing. But when he looked down at me, there was something dark in his gaze, fiery lust.
I bit my lower lip, reaching behind me for the doorknob. “Do you want to come in?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “It’s just me in here right now.”
Ace nodded wordlessly, following me inside.
He pulled the curtains closed, shrouding us in darkness, and then he laid me down on my bed, covering my body with his. Each movement was careful, measured. He cl
osed the gap between our lips once more, pushing his tongue into my mouth, exploratory. His fingers pushed up under my shirt, sliding along the edges of my bra and making me shiver.
We made out sloppily for a while, the heat between us building. He slotted a leg in between mine, and when he nipped at my lower lip, I whimpered and ground down against his leg, lust sparkling through my core.
Ace pulled back, his eyes still dark and serious, and slowly started to strip off his clothing. I watched as he revealed those hard, smooth planes of tanned and tattooed skin. Then, I gave myself a little shake and started stripping as well. Where Ace folded his clothes into a neat pile at the foot of the bed, every inch of his military training showing, I threw my own clothes haphazardly on the floor, grinning impishly at him when he raised an eyebrow at me.
He laughed and crawled back on top of me.
I shivered as his skin glided across mine. He dipped his fingers down between my legs, which automatically fell farther open. He played with my nub for a moment, grinning when I gave a breathy gasp. Then, he slid his fingers inside of me. I was wet already, needy. I still could barely believe this was actually happening, that tall and sexy Ace Bradley was actually in bed with me.
He pushed inside of me, and I clung to him, my fingers digging into the dark tattoos that swirled up his arms and across his chest. I bit my lip, knowing that even though I was the only person living in this building at the moment, it was far from soundproof and not exactly secluded. Ace’s eyes zeroed in on my mouth, and he kissed me again.
This time, the kiss was rough and demanding. He forced my lips open and thrust his tongue inside, just as he was thrusting his member deep into my core. Our tongues twisted against each other’s, and I shivered, a whine rising in the back of my throat.
It didn’t take long before I was cumming, my whole body tightening and then falling lax against the sheets, while Ace continued to thrust into me. Finally, he spent himself as well, collapsing down, his body hot and sticky against mine.
Finally, he rolled away. “Fuck,” he said, staring up at the ceiling.
I giggled. “Yes,” I agreed.
He turned back toward me, propping his head up on his arm, his other hand swirling patterns of goosebumps across my skin. “I have to leave,” he sighed. “I’m not supposed to fraternize.”
“I know,” I said. I swallowed hard; there were so many things I wanted to say. Was this a one-time thing? Was he going to avoid me around the camp now? Should I avoid him?