The second installment (the sequel) to Ace of Spades is now out.
Read 'The Hanged Man' once you've finished this one.
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A rascal with a penchant for making friends with the wrong people, you were often regarded as a troublemaker by...
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Waking up had to be one of the worst things you had done today. Granted, it probably wasn't as bad as the empty bed...
Consciousness lighting behind your eyelids, you stirred, quietly, and without much energy, your sore limbs grasping at the empty sheets as you turned on your belly to rub your face into Ace's pillow, taking a heady whiff of his scent; insides turning to jelly again. You already knew he was somewhere in the house, but some part of you still couldn't help but miss him, even indirectly.
You're sore everywhere, the muscles in your thighs and abdomen puffy as hell and trembling as if you'd run a marathon, when, granted, you might have, just not in the way you thought.
Who knew doing... the nasty with someone could be so exhausting, not to mention taxing on the body?
A soft sigh escaped from your mouth, the breath crystallizing the moment it met the chilly air. You shivered in your spot, then remembering how naked you were as you brought up the blanket to your chest, toes curling into the sheets. In your dreams, you'd seen Ace, all wavy-haired with large expressive mercury eyes and a smattering of freckles turned devious. It was sinfully sexy, even you couldn't deny that.
Your gut roiled in tension.
For a moment, you took a breather, your consciousness slowly sorting itself back into place as you muscled through the pulsing soreness between the juncture of your thighs, hands slowly going down only to come back with a sticky mess of dried seed. You cringed in disgust at the sight before you, eyes landing upon a tube of pills and a glass of water by the nightstand.
'Plan B,' You thought, 'He must have woken up early to get it.'
You threw back the pill with the water, swallowing it gratefully before you flattened your hands against the soft sheets, fingers curling in the spot where Ace had been.
How long had you been out for? It couldn't have been more than a couple of hours since you'd... fallen asleep in his arms, and yet, he was nowhere to be found.
You were more than a bit embarrassed to admit how much you missed him, considering he'd been your enemy only moments earlier. You groaned and buried your head in your hands, taking a moment to recompose yourself.
Once you did, you stood up, dragging the sheets along with you, blankets held high over your naked body as you scoped out the place, throat parched from your lack of water.
"A-Ace?" You rasped, partly surprised by how hoarse your voice sounded. Not a moment after you'd called him, the boy appeared, just as wild-looking as you, with scratch marks littering the top half of his body.
Muscles tensing when he stretched out to release some of the lactic build-up, he yawned, eyes crinkling with tears before he shook out like a dog, dark lashes blinking lazily to take in your scandalous appearance. "Well, hey there, sleepy-head." He leisurely checked you out with an unblinking mahogany gaze, grin as nonchalant as ever as he approached you in nothing but a dark tee with the words 'Idiot-head' printed on it and a pair of black sweats.
