Stories Beneath Our Skin (17 page)

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Authors: Veronica Sloane

BOOK: Stories Beneath Our Skin
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"
Good?" Ace asked, voice honeyed and deep as he crooked that finger.

"
Yeah." Liam's eyes grew heavy lidded, and he arched up to encourage Ace on. "God, more. Please."

The angle was wrong for kissing, so Ace mouthed a hickey
on the curve of Liam’s shoulder, teeth worrying it into existence and tongue soothing away the sting. Pleasure sparked and caught, flaring under Liam's skin. He whimpered when Ace slid in a second finger, dug his hands into Ace's shoulders.

"
I've got you," Ace murmured.

"
I know." Liam tossed back his head and rode out the sensation.

"
Gonna go slow. You're too fucking tight." Ace said over Liam's broken protest when he drew his hand away. "I'll get you there. Promise."

"
Already there." Liam half-laughed, half-groaned. The crinkle of foil echoed in the room, weirdly loud. "Please..."

"
Don't gotta beg." Ace's right hand landed at Liam's side, and the first nudge of his cock at Liam's entrance brought another rattling plea to his throat. "Ready?"

"
Yeah," he took in a deep shuddering breath, "now."

It hurt. He
'd forgotten that it could, but it wasn't awful. He gripped Ace's forearms, kneading at the muscle. Whispered words of encouragement showered down around him, and eventually the burn receded into something like pleasure. When he opened his eyes, barely aware that he'd closed them in the first place, Ace was staring down at him. The blue of his eyes had gone dark and wild as the ocean, and his lips flushed an inviting red.

"
Oh." Liam swallowed hard.

"
Hey." Ace leaned in, managed one badly angled kiss in time with a thrust. "God, you feel amazing."

"
It's good," he slurred back, tilting up his hips another fraction of an inch. "Fuck..."

Ace settled into a slow rhythm, a corkscrew that wound Liam tighter and tighter. He didn
't touch himself, relishing the build that spiraled outward. He tried to hold to Ace's gaze, losing himself there, but when Ace's hand wrapped around Liam's cock, he gave in with a groan, eyes sliding shut again.

"
Come for me," Ace growled low, and Liam was helpless to resist. He came hard, head thrown back and hands clutching at whatever part of Ace he could reach.

The sight spurred Ace on, his careful strokes turning ragged and arrhythmic, until he dropped his forehead to Liam
's chest and shuddered to a stop. Liam ran a hand over the broad plane of Ace's shoulders.

"
I think I lost some IQ points," he commented when Ace relaxed entirely against him.

"
You and me both," Ace said into Liam's chest. "Goddamn. If it's like this now, how's it going to be when we actually know each other better?"

The question prickled through the air
, and Liam didn't know how to answer it. He wanted to imagine himself here with Ace in another few months. Another year. But he was too close to graduation to give up on Berkley now.

"
Stop that, whatever you're doing in that dense head of yours," Ace ordered. "I can feel you go tense all over, and I worked too hard to get you relaxed."

"
Was that work?" Liam teased, trying to throw off the onset of melancholy.

"
I broke a sweat, so it probably counts." Reluctantly, Ace heaved himself upward and collapsed at Liam's side. "Wanna take a shower?"

"
In a minute."

"
Lazy." Ace caught up Liam's hand, brushed a kiss over his knuckles. "You'll regret it if you fall asleep like that."

"
Ugh." Liam stretched, a twinging ache shooting up his spine.

"
I'll make it worth your while."

Ace made good on his offer, soaping Liam down from his neck to the bottom of his feet even as Liam nearly kicked him in ticklish protest. It was weird and intimate and painfully good. Liam returned the favor, trying to tell Ace with a bar of soap and slippery fingers just how much it all meant to him.

They settled between the soft sheets. For the first time, Liam didn't try to carve out his own space on the bed. He craved contact, curling his body around Ace. Ace grabbed for Liam's arm, dragging it over his chest. Liam kissed the back of Ace's neck just where the fine down of hair gave way to the knuckles of his spine.

"
Go to sleep," Ace ordered through a yawn.

And Liam, for once, did.

He dreamed of running through tall grass, his arms flung wide and the sky impossibly blue. When he woke, George was sitting on Ace's pillow staring him down.

"
Morning." He reached out, rubbed the soft fur between the Siamese's ears then slid off to brush his teeth.

As he stared at himself in the mirror, the previous day
's conversation washed back over him. Something in the tangled happy mess of it stuck out to him, and he kept trying to tug it loose. He worried at it over breakfast and through most of the morning. Even Gene tried to help early on, but fell asleep midway through their conversation. The concern of that seemingly unwilling descent in sleep added to the discomfort.

"
You're going to make me start fidgeting if you keep up like this." Ace told him mildly over lunch. They were at the diner, a pile of fries giving into their duel assault.

"
It's stupid, I know. I just feel like I missed something."

"
Something about Deb throwing spitballs at Goose?"

"
No." He reached for his glass, sucking down a sip of Coke. The sweetness burst over his tongue. Missing something. A cherry maybe like Frankie always put in his drinks. "Oh."

"
Figure it out?"

"
Yeah." He set down the glass slowly. "It was Goose talking about Frankie running away from him."

"
And I pointed out that she wasn't running anymore."

"
But she is. I mean, putting that professional layer between them. It reminded me of something. Of us."

"
You mean like the two times I pointed out it was a bad idea and we did it anyway?" Ace snorted. "Not exactly the same. They've been playing around for five years, not five minutes."

"
Maybe. What time does Frankie open the bar?" His suspicion was blooming now and maybe, like June and Alice with their stars and possessiveness all those weeks ago, he was wrong and/or it was none of his business. But just like June, he couldn't let it be.

"
Around four, I think. You can text her if you want to meet up with her earlier though. Bet she'd be happy with the help prepping the bar." Ace tapped Liam's hand gently. "Why?"

"
You said that Frankie's boyfriend left her, and she stopped hanging out with everyone after, right?"

"
Yeah. Andy or whatever. Why?"

"
Better not say. If I'm wrong, I'll look like an asshole. And if I'm right... well. She didn't want anyone to know."

"
Oh, fuck me." Ace slumped back in the booth. "Really? You think? I mean, I didn't like the guy, but if she was in trouble, she had to know we would've helped her."

"
If you knew. If she wanted you to know. Let me... I want to talk to her. Do you think she'll talk to me?" He bit his lip, meticulously destroying a fry in his hand. "Would I make it worse bringing up bad memories?"

"
I don't know." Ace caught up Liam's legs between his own under the table. "How'd you feel after you talked to me about it?"

The fry turned to mush that clung unpleasantly to his fingertips.

"Better. Worse. I can't explain it. It sucked and it was hard and I don't want you to think I'm some kind of victim or to be pitied, but you don't seem to--"

"
I don't," Ace said firmly. "No question."

"
Right. And I talked about it, and I don't know... it lost some power over me, I guess. Maybe I'll be dealing with it for the rest of my life, I have no fucking clue, but I think talking about it was better. At least a little."

"
So there's your answer."

"
I'm not sure I even remember the question." Liam dropped his face to his hands. "Talking about that shit is confusing."

"
Hey," Ace said gently. "Why don't you just do that?"

"
Do what?"

"
Tell her your story. Frankie'll listen. She's used to people telling her their problems."

"
She'll guess what I'm after if I do that."

"
Probably, but at least she'll know that you're not just riding in on a white horse to save her from something."

"
Maybe."

"
Good. 'Cause I'm texting her right now to tell her you're coming to drop off some of the advertisements."

"
What?" Liam dropped his hands. "Why?"

"
So you don't talk yourself out of it. Your first impulse is usually a good one, and I think you'll make yourself crazy about if you don't try. And," Ace clicked send, "I actually do need to drop some of those off to her. Winning all around."

"
Says you."

"
Says me," Ace agreed, dropping a twenty out of his wallet onto the table. "Go check in on Gene. I'll leave some of the advertisements on the kitchen table. You can swing by Frankie's before you go in tonight. Should be quiet if you hit in the late afternoon."

"
Maybe I should take her out to coffee."

"
Trust me, there is nowhere in the world she would feel more comfortable and safe than behind that bar."

Fervently hoping that Ace was right, Liam followed his directions. Gene kicked his ass at
Jeopardy
before he headed back to the house to pick up the promised glossies. He couldn't help but smile down at the little drawing of the gaslight. Maybe Deb had been right, and the sketch did have some power after all. It alone had brought Liam to Great Sin.

The thought comforted him as he headed out to Frankie
's on his strange errand. There were only two cars in the parking lot when he pulled in. One was a restored bright purple VW bug that had to be Frankie's. He walked through the front door reluctantly. The television above the bar was on, a baseball game's announcer speaking softly into the hushed dark space. The single patron sat at one of the tall tables, transfixed by the screen, beer forgotten in one hand. Behind the bar, Frankie sat on a stool drying glasses and setting them in neat rows.

"
Hey, Professor." She smiled at him, dimple stud flashing. Her dress was a sedate navy blue number today.

"
Hi, Frankie." He sat down across from her. "How are you?"

"
Okay. Ace said you had some flyers to drop off?"

"
They're more of those glossy postcards he made up for the fair." He set them on the bar beside him. "Don't know if anyone'll even see them in here with the black background."

"
I'll put 'em on the tables. That should help."

He nodded, listening to the distant crowd cheer on a pitch. He
'd never spent much time looking at Frankie before. Hadn't want to be caught out staring, something she was probably thoroughly sick of. She had a nice nose, upturned a little at the end and the faint remains of a scar along one side of her neck.

"
Can I ask you something?"

"
Sure thing." She didn't look up, picking up the next glass to dry.

"
Are you afraid of him or yourself?"

Her hands paused at their work.

"I don't know what you mean," she said eventually.

"
I've been running for the last four years. To California. Into books. Maybe even longer than that. And I used to think I was running so the past couldn't catch up, but I think now... it's me I keep trying to get away from. Who I was. What I did. I kept feeling like if I stopped. If I looked... I would turn into that person again."

"
Liam--"

"
I don't know you, and you don't know me," he cut in before she could get any further. "I get that. But I like you. And I think you're hurting. And I don't think you should have to be."

She set down the glass so hard, Liam thought for a moment it had shattered.

"I don't need anyone to play therapist. I've got one of those."

"
How about another friend then? Do you have too many of those? Because I really don't." Liam swallowed hard. "There's this quote--"

"
Yeah, of course there is." She half-laughed. "One for every occasion, right?"

"
It's easier," he admitted. "To use other people's words."

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