Ace Up My Sleeve Novels & Stories

He pulled it out, holding it up against the light. It was champagne-colored, with a high neck and a sleeveless cut that draped elegantly down to the floor. No sheer panels or plunging neckline. Just pure, sophisticated class. "This one," he said firmly. "You're actually letting me wear something sleeveless?" I teased, taking the hanger from him. "What happened to the 'wrap me in a blanket' speech from five minutes ago?" Luca smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "I’m compromise-oriented today. Besides, the high neck keeps people’s eyes where they belong. On your face. Or on me, for being lucky enough to stand next to you."

Everything is about strength. After breakfast, my aunt helped me get ready. I need to reconsider my wardrobe - I could not pull the narrow sleeve over the bandage, so it gathered in uncomfortable folds at the elbow. But the high collar at the throat came in handy for me, I pulled it higher to hide the huge band-aid.

I slip off my jeans and hoodie, step into the dress, and pull it up and put my hands into the sleeves. It's a perfect fit. I look at my reflection in the mirror, "Wow," I murmur. My shoulders are bare and the sleeves fall on my arm. The cut on my chest goes halfway down my boobs, and it hugs my curves. The slit goes up the front past my thigh and falls just below my ankles.

I pulled a gold arm band from the box, its inscription was delicate, and lovely, and the band itself hammered so thin, it was feather light. "Thank you," I breathed, "It's beautiful." My dress was long sleeve of snug velvet that stretched, but not enough to slip the band on under my sleeve, all the way to my bicep. So I slipped it on over my sleeve instead, using magic to ensure it wouldn't slip off as the evening progressed.

I'm a good influence on someone. "How about I check?" Ace volunteered. He closed his eyes, his hair instantly bursting out in flames and light fire burning on the surface of his fireproof short-sleeved shirt. His pale white skin turned pale lava colour with lightning bolts on his forearms, lava dancing in the bolts. I bit my lip at my beautiful mate, my pretty big mate. Wait, what?

The sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing forearms that were more defined than she remembered. Ava guessed she wasn't wrong after all.

” Ashton groans loudly, his face contorting in pure frustration when my shirt sleeve gets completely stuck around my wrist, trapping my arm like a makeshift handcuff. He doesn't have the patience for buttons. With a growl of pure exasperation, he hooks his fingers into the collar and just yanks with his alpha strength, the fabric tearing right down the middle with a loud, dramatic rip.

Leaving for Good SERAPHINA "SERA" MORTEZ'S POINT OF VIEW "Are you sure about this?" Ace asked as we pushed through the trees, putting distance between us and the smoldering mansion. I was still gasping for breath, blood dried dark on my dress, when he slipped off his leather vest and held it out to me. "Wear this," he said sharply. "You look like you've been in a fight-people will stare." I managed a small, shaky smile in response, pulling the vest over my shoulders. It was warm from his body, heavy with the scent of leather and smoke.

The kind of scent that told me my humans needed supervision. Ace moved more slowly than usual, his shoulders stiff, his right arm tucked in that weird fabric wrap that smelled like antiseptic. He tried to play it off, acting like the sling was no big deal, but even I could tell he was hurting. He always did that, pretending he was made of stone when he was really more like my scratching post: solid until someone pushed too hard.

The one who has seen, touched, possessed what lies hidden beneath the armor of black wool. At one moment, as I present a complex graphic, I raise my hand to point at something on the screen. My sleeve rides up slightly, revealing an inch of my wrist. His eyes latch onto that bare spot with such burning intensity that I feel my skin prickle, as if he had brushed against it. My voice falters for a microsecond. I lower my arm and adjust my sleeve with a gesture meant to look natural.