Flaming Ace Of Spades Tattoo Novels & Stories

| responded quickly with a warm smile before sitting down next to Denice. Theard heavy and fast-paced footsteps heading this way from the hall. "Fucking Vipers" Ace snarled at his father before sitting down. He clenched his jaw angrily, trying to calm himself down. "Mamá how was your day?" Ace asked, his tone shifting as he tried to take his mind off of his Mafia. Ace clenched his hands together, resting his chin on them. I noticed the tattoos on his fingers, leading down his arms. He had a few on his hand and then a sleeve of them going up his arm.

Esmeray held her forearm up, examining the intricate tattoo that adorned her skin. The tattoo depicted a majestic wolf, its eyes fierce and determined, surrounded by swirling patterns that seemed to dance with a life of their own. The lines were bold and precise, giving the impression of strength and resilience. “This tattoo is so unique,” Esmeray remarked, tracing her fingers over the contours of the design. “I’ve always felt a connection to it, but I never knew why.”

And he just wanted him all the more when he saw what was on Liam's chest. "Me," Ace said hoarsely, pointing at the tattoo of the ace of spades card. "That's me." "Yes." "So." Ace closed the distance between them again. "It seems that I wasn't the only one holding on to the past. Holding on to memories." "You weren't." "You still mad at me? You still hate me?" Ace lifted his hand to roughly grasp Liam's hair on the back of his head, and tug him closer. Liam didn't even resist: he let himself get pulled up against Ace's larger body. "Tell me, baby."

Worse than that, actually. But that wasn’t Ace’s only secret; it wasn’t even the biggest one. The one that had Ace twisting and turning and losing sleep was named Liam ‘Spider’ Vance, Ace’s ex-boyfriend. In the world of MC members, Ace’s sexual orientation was nothing less than unthinkable… and if the other Fallen Angels knew that their new Prez was a gay man, both Ace and Spider would be dead and gone without a word. They’d disappear so completely, it’d be like they'd never been.

The maroon jersey looked wrong on him, but then again, everything about Ace seemed designed to irritate me. His arms were crossed over his chest. Even from fifty feet away, I could feel those ice-blue eyes burning into me. His face looked like he'd just watched someone kick his dog. What the hell was he doing here? And why was he looking at me like that? Ace was Freya's older brother, six-foot-three of pure muscle with dirty blonde hair and these weird tattoos all over his right arm. Pack tattoos, he called them. Whatever that meant. I'd been dating his sister for four years, and in all that time, he'd never once been nice to me. Not even polite. He looked at me like I was something he'd scr

I smirked at him as I made my shot, sinking two solids into the corner pockets. “Start stripping boys.” I said confidently as Ace smirked at me. The boys took off their suit jackets and threw them on the couch. They loosened their ties and threw them with their coats. I took another shot and effectively made another solid in the center pocket. I looked up at Ace and raised my eyebrow as my gaze fell onto his shirt. A smiled tugged on his lips as he started to unbutton his shirt, Romano doing the same. As his shirt opened, I felt my panties moisten. His torso, back, and arms were covered in dark ink and intricate designs. The design on his neck blended into a perfectly detailed design on his

I shuddered as I watched Ace slowly rid himself of his shirt. Tattoos I hadn't noticed since seeing him came into view. It was everywhere on his skin, the suit did well in covering it. A dragon was running down his shoulder blade to his torso at his back. Both hands inked with tattoos I didn't quite catch. However, the one that caught my eye was a Bible quote running from his earlobe to the nape of his neck. “I can do all things to Christ who strengthens me.” the quote read. I didn't picture Ace to be a religious person or maybe it was just a daily quote. A mantra or something.

When I walked out of the doctor's office with my test results, the hospital's advertisement screen played the scene of Brandon proposing to me. Under a dazzling starry sky, deep blue fireworks lit up the night. He wore a white suit and kneeled in a rose garden, opening a box with a diamond ring inside. The scene was so beautiful that it looked like something straight out of a romance drama. I overheard some patients' family members chatting with a nurse. "I'm really so jealous of Ms. Pace. Meeting a man like Mr. Foster is the luck of eight lifetimes."

He could almost see me, my eyes crinkling into a smile, leaning in for a quick kiss. At a red light, he saw a young couple on the sidewalk. The guy was down on one knee, a bouquet of fiery roses in hand, awkwardly confessing his love. The girl nodded, and they embraced, cheering. For a moment, he was lost in the memory of us, of countless moments just like that. However, they were nothing but memories gathering dust. He did not slow down until he reached the villa. The dim light from inside the house somehow calmed his racing heart.

I replied softly, my fingers tracing the intricate lines of his hand tattoos. As my fingertips glided over the designs etched into his skin, I couldn't help but marvel at their uniqueness. His tattoos are very peculiar. Unlike the tattoos sported by his friends, Ace's ink seemed to tell a story of its own, each symbol and pattern holding a mysterious allure. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation as I felt his hand sliding inside my panties, his touch warm and comforting. His hand lingered just there. "Ace," I murmured, my fingers trailing lightly over his chest.