K. Bromberg - Aced

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. Names, chharacters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used ficttitiously. Any ressemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright 2016 Aced by K. Bromberg

All Rights Reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author crane constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the authors intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written crane permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at kbrombergwrites@gmail.com. Thank you for your support of the authors rights.

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Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics mentioned in the novel Aced are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

ISBN: 978-1-942832-00-3

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Other Works by K. Bromberg

Quote

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other Works by K. Bromberg

Driven

Fueled

Crashed

Raced

UnRaveled (a novella)

Slow Burn

Sweet Ache

Hard Beat

RY? I CALL HER NAME the minute I clear the top of the stairs. The little note she left me on the counter is in my hand. Your nothing-but-sheets date night starts now, it reads. Curiosity rules my thoughts and fuels my actions.

Well, that and the image of her naked and waiting for me. My days been for shit though, so Im not going to push my luck and expect a miracle like that to turn it around. But a man can sure as fuck hope.

SoMo is playing as I walk onto the upper patio of the house where our original nothing-but-sheets date took place a long-ass time ago. Sweet Christ. My feet falter when I find Rylee. Shes leaning back on the chaise lounge, dressed in some kind of black lacey thing that I dont pay much attention to because its see-through enough for me to tell shes naked as sin beneath it. Her hair is piled on top of her head, her lips are bare, and her knees are spread so her feet are on either side of the chair. And Im distracted momentarilymy eyes searching for a glimpse of the something more between those thighs of hersbefore realizing sky-high heels complete the outfit.

Fuck me. I can already feel the spikes of those heels digging into my ass as her legs wrap around me. Thats a pain any man can find pleasure in.

Hey, she says in that raspy voice of hers that calls to my heart, my dick, and every nerve in between. A coy smile plays at the corners of her mouth as her eyes narrow, one foot taps, and eyebrows rise. I see you got my note. Glad you knew where to find me.

Baby, I could be deaf and blind and Id still find you. No way in hell I could forget that night.

Or that morning, she says, and damn, shes right. It was one helluva morning too. Sleepy sex. Just-woke-up sex. Sunrise sex. I think we tried all of those and then some. And I love the flush that crawls up her cheeks from the memory. My sex-kitten wife greeting me after work in lace and heels is embarrassed. The irony isnt lost on me. I love how she can be this way for me, when I know, despite her confidence, it still unnerves her.

Definitely a good morning, I agree, as I stare at her. Shes always drop-dead gorgeous but theres something new, something different about her tonight, and it has nothing to do with the lace. I cant tell what it is but its knocked the breath right out of me.

Shit, what am I missing? Panic flickers inside me that Ive missed something major. Could it be one of those dates guys have to put in their calendar with five alerts, so they dont forget it? I run through the usual suspects: Its not our anniversary. Not her birthday.

I move to the other shit a guy usually doesnt notice. Her hairs the same color. It must be new lingerie. Is it? Fuck if I know. If it is, can a scrap of lace really change her demeanor?

Damn. I know lingerie changes mine, but thats for a whole different reason.

What else can it be, Donavan? Bite the bullet and just ask. Save yourself the guessing game and the trouble youll be in if you guess wrong and hurt her feelings. No need to get the hormones she just got back under controlafter all those years of fertility shitto get all out of whack again.

Somethings different about you . . . I leave the comment open-ended so she can respond.

But of course she doesnt take the bait. I should have known my wife is smarter than that. Shell make me work for the answer, so we just stare at each other in a battle of wills before her smile slowly widens into a full grin.