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“Find something that’ll ground you, Atticus. If it’s those horses or a woman, I don’t care. But the only way I’ll stop hovering is if you can figure out a way to balance all of this without letting it consume you. You’ll only be able to do it if you have something more—something to care about.”
I believe in fantasy at first glance and lust at first sight. And both of those, for me, come in the form of my best friend’s brother.
I teased him often about being old, but the truth is, Ace Foxx is just like his bourbon: better with some age. And damn, do I drink him in every once in a while. If only I literally could.
“You are as much mine as the rest of my boys. Maybe not by blood, but by everything else that matters. Loving someone isn’t a weakness. You can be exactly the woman you are—strong, smart, sassy as all get-out, and still give in to it.”
Pushing my buttons is her favorite hobby. I’m going to learn my fucking lesson one of these days. I don’t know why I engage. When I do, it’s like fuel for her. And then I end up in a bad mood, slightly dizzy, and with a fucking hard-on.
My devil is a Kentucky bourbon boy but, goddesses, he’s always looked like a man. The kind of man that isn’t simply handsome. No, he’s downright beautiful. My devil makes bourbon, rides horses, and makes sure his family comes first. There have been moments when I feel included in that, but tonight isn’t one of them.
“You know, you’re a damn idiot. You keep staring at her and she might finally notice,” he says, shaking his head. I should have known he wouldn’t let it go. “I don’t understand for the life of me why—” he cuts himself off. If he really thought about why, he’d have his answer. The reason why I would never act on the vibrating impulse to take exactly who I want and the way I want her.
“I think if you knew my ‘little kinks,’ you wouldn’t push me with that bratty mouth so often.”
Since then, I’ve been an anonymous, well-paying client, who offers her double if she only sends them to me. Five years’ worth of panties, and I helped her get Midnight Proof off the ground without needing to ask her father for a fucking dime.
“He would only ever be able to choose you. That man won’t love anyone else. Believe me, I know. Because when you find it”—he shakes his head—“it’s impossible to think about anything else.”
“They might say to never fall for a Foxx, but nobody ever said what could happen if a Foxx fell for you. There isn’t a damn thing more real than the way you look at my grandson.”
“Fuck,” I gasp just as I kiss her. Her mouth meets mine like it’s the first clash on a battlefield. War declared.
“Does this turn you on, Ace?” Yes. “Me in front of you, on my knees like this?” Fucking hell.
“What do you wa—” “You. I want you.” She closes her eyes for a moment, absorbing my confession and allowing it to settle into the space left between us. Quietly, she says, almost to herself, “All these years . . .” With a huffed breath, she shakes her head. “I thought this was one-sided.”
“Are you done?” I ask, licking my bottom lip. The bourbon’s still wet and lingering. Her lips slowly tip into a smile as her blue eyes stay locked on mine, challenging me. As always. “Not even close,” she says with all the attitude she’s got. “Good,” I growl. And I tell her exactly what she’s going to do. “Now, clean it up.”
“Let me make this clear for you.” With his hand pressed against his face, it leaves her an opening to cock her leg back and give him a knee right to the dick. When he groans in pain, I have to hold back a chuckle. “Every time I came, it was because I was thinking about that man behind me right there. The one who, I promise you, is not going to forget this.” Goddamn, I’m in love with this woman.
“I need you to get us out of here right now, husband.” I smile. “Who knew my wife would be so eager for me?” She lets out a laugh. “Literally everyone.”
“You’re so fucking filthy, Foxx,” she says through a hazy giggle. I smile at her and swipe it up her stomach and around her nipples. “Now you are too.” When I start to pull my hand back, she grabs my wrist and guides the cum-soaked fingers to her lips and sucks. As she drags them out, I’m speechless. “Tastes like sugar, Daddy.”
“I like how you taste better. Now, stop hovering. I need you on my mouth. Make it hard for me to breathe, sugar, and ride my fucking tongue.”
She points at me, giddy as can be. “I love you.” But she realizes what she says a fraction of a second too late. Her mouth snaps shut, and she only blinks, knowing she can’t backtrack. Not in this company. So I lean into it. It feels too good to hear it. My brave fucking girl.
“Now, say ‘yes, Daddy,’ and watch.” I’m dead and on my way to heaven. I’m wet past the point of my panties. And I’m not sure I want to simply watch any longer. “Yes, Daddy,” I say, just as his fingers push lightly against my knee, encouraging my legs to uncross. “Knees wide, sugar.” He shifts his body beside me, wrapping his arm along the back of the oversized chair, and focusing on the scene unfolding in front of us. “And eyes on her.”
“It became my choice. Bourbon, and proof that if I made enough things right, I might find the kind of life my parents had. Full, hard, happy, and brimming with so much love that everyone who knew them felt it.”
“We did this all wrong, sugar.” Gasping, her hand moves over her eyes, like she’s too overwhelmed to even look. She pulls in a breath first and blows it out slowly, moving her hands away from blue, tear-filled eyes. “I don’t know why I’m so overwhelmed; we’re already married,” she says with a watery laugh. “That was for show. This one’s for us,” I tell her as I take her hand, sliding the ring above the one that already occupies it. “Ace . . .” she breathes out, and I swipe away the tear tracking down her cheek. “This is beautiful.”
“I’ve been trying to catch my breath since the moment you walked into my life. And I know that I’ve done this all wrong, but I want to make it right.” I steady my voice when I say, “I’m in love with you, Hadley Foxx. We may have already gotten married, but I want to be your husband in every fucking way if you’ll have me. And I don’t want this feeling to ever go away, so I’m asking you to stay married to me. Throw out the rules we’ve barely followed and just keep choosing each other. Let me love you, sugar, like I should have from the start.”
She barely lets me finish as her hands find my face and pull me into a kiss. “Yes. It’s always been a yes from me,” she mumbles across my lips. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she practically tackles me back onto the bed. “I thought the first ring was romantic, but asking me to stay with you . . .” A soft smile brightens her face as her fingers graze along my hairline. “You would’ve had to find a way to get rid of me, because I was never going anywhere. Even when I was pissed off at you, I was already stupidly in love with you.”
“Baby, Foxx Bourbon is yours and your brothers’.” That hits me right in the chest. I close my eyes for a second and hum, “I like that one,” I tell her. She furrows her brow, trying to work out what I’m talking about. “Baby is good when we’re like this,” I say, and then drag her closer to my lips again as her body wraps fully around mine. My cock rubs up against her barely-there satin shorts. “But when I’m hard or you’re wet, I want you to be a brat and call me Daddy.”
“Say it,” I demand as I drag my nose along the column of her neck. “Yes, Daddy,” she breathes out. “And your last name is Foxx, which means Foxx Bourbon is just as much yours as it is mine.”
Too much laughing and less than thirty minutes later, I stare at the elegant cursive ink drawn along the inside of my wrist. It was his idea, and then he decided he needed to get one too. The words are a reminder of our vows—Preuve d’amour. Proof of love.
I’ve been slowly falling for Ace for most of my adult life. I’ve fantasized about the man, obsessed over the bourbon boy, challenged the arrogant businessman, only to find myself exactly where I always wanted to be: deeply in love with my husband.
“Two of my favorite things,” he hums with focused attention. “This is exactly how I want to drink this from now on. The taste of you on the rim as I sip whatever blend I’m in the mood for.”
My lips part as Ace wraps his hand around the back of my neck and spits his whiskey laced with my arousal into my mouth.
Maybe it was a curse or just a bored asshole spreading bullshit, but the kicker is that it was never dangerous to fall for a Foxx. It’s simply proof that, regardless of any secret or lie that might have been tied to a woman, when a Foxx falls, they do it as bold and strong as our bourbon.
