The Devil's Ride

Ace's Touch

Rachel’s POV

So how long had he been part of the club with Scar?

I lay beside Ace on his bed, the mattress dipping under our combined weight, and took a sip from the vodka bottle before passing it back to him. Getting to know each other better had been his idea, and somehow that had led to us stretched out like this, talking quietly while the house settled around us.

“s**t, almost twenty years now.”

I blinked and turned my head slightly toward him.

“How old are you?”

“Almost forty.”

I scoffed and shook my head.

“You look like a damn baby, for f**k’s sake. Look at your face.”

Ace really did look nothing like a man pushing forty. He was tall, about six‑three, with a solid build that leaned more athletic than bulky. His skin was smooth, almost unfairly so, giving him that baby‑faced look that made him seem younger than he was. His hair cut was low, always neatly kept, and his eyes were a sharp blue that stood out against his fair skin. He had red lips, a slightly bumpy nose, an oval face with a narrow chin, and a long but well‑balanced jawline. There were no tattoos marking his skin, which somehow made him stand out even more in Scar’s world. His face was structured and handsome, the kind of handsome that made you do a double take, and if he had not told me his age, I never would have guessed it.

“I know. Thanks.”

I turned my head fully to look at him, the sunset spilling through the window behind him and painting the room in shades of orange, yellow, and pink. He kept his eyes on me as he smiled, and the closeness suddenly made me feel a little nervous without Scar around.

“Do you have a thing for older men, Rachel?”

The question caught me off guard.

“Where did that come from?”

Ace sat up and handed me the vodka bottle, motioning for me to do the same.

“It’s just a question. I was curious. Do you like older men?”

I knew what he was really asking, and it annoyed me. It was not about Scar’s age. It never had been.

“I hate that he’s fifteen years older than me. If he was five years older, maybe that would be okay, but fifteen? No.”

“But you still like him anyway.”

I huffed softly.

“I mean, not really. I was forced into the situation at most. I tolerate him.”

Ace gave me a look that said he did not buy that for a second.

“Oh, please. I see how you are with him. You can lie to yourself, but not to me.”

I handed the bottle back to him, and he set it aside as he moved to sit on the nightstand. He placed his hand over mine, his thumb slowly rubbing the curve between my thumb and index finger. The touch was gentle, unassuming, but it sent a strange awareness through me.

“I don’t know if you know this, Rachel, but Scar is falling for you. The second he saw you, I noticed the look in his eyes when they lit up. He looks at you like you’re f*****g it.”

I pulled my hand back slightly, uncomfortable with the truth in his words.

“I’m just a business transaction to him, Ace, and a free, convenient p***y when he’s horny. That’s it.”

“You’re wrong, Rachel. I’m telling you, he doesn’t see you that way.”

We locked eyes, and the air between us shifted, thick with something unspoken that made it harder to breathe. His thumb continued to glide along my skin before he seemed to catch himself and pulled his hand away, clearing his throat.

“You wanna go for a ride?”

The sudden change in topic startled me, and I realized how much I missed the warmth of his touch the moment it was gone. Whatever that feeling had been, it had been real, and I knew he had felt it too. Still, Scar was the only one on my mind.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you wanna go for a ride on my bike? Not a long one. Just something to pass the time. I think we both need some fresh air.”

I hesitated.

“Will Scar be okay with that?”

Ace smirked, lifting a dark brow and giving me a mischievous look that made my stomach flutter.

“I don’t know. Will he?”

I exhaled slowly, then nodded.

“Let’s ride then. I need the fresh air.”

“Sweet. Come on, then. I hope you’re not afraid of a little speed.”

He grinned.

“I go way f*****g faster than Scar.”

Ace’s POV

My new top speed flashed on the GPS attached to my bike as I zipped down the back roads with Rachel hugging me tightly from behind, her arms wrapped around my hips, fingers pressing into my stomach just above my c**k, holding on like she never wanted to let go.

The wind slammed against us, whipping her hair around her face, and I had to get out before I said anything. She had this innocent look, the kind that made you want to spill your deepest secrets, and for a second I thought about telling her everything about Scar. His cancer, the truth behind her father’s death. If he didn’t tell her soon, I would. She was his wife now, and he wanted a baby. She needed to know he was sick, and I had to make sure she did.

As we came up on our street, Rachel let go and raised her hands in the air, grinning like the wind itself couldn’t touch her, while I barreled down the road well over one hundred miles per hour.

“Put your f*****g hands back around me and hold on, Spitfire.”

“Why?” she shouted, her voice cutting through the roar of the wind. “This isn’t my first time doing this, Ace. I love feeling the wind smack against my body. It makes me feel alive.”

I laughed, the sound lost in the rush of air, and shook my head as she screamed at the top of her lungs, looking happier than I’d ever seen her since she’d been with us, her excitement radiating through every inch of her body pressed to mine.