Cherry Creek (15 page)

I have a feeling he's trying to keep me from dwelling over the incident. “I do like it. I've never been to one before.”

Trace nods as he turns on the blinker and waits for a break in traffic before pulling out of the club's private parking lot. “I get the feeling that everything about Cherry Creek is new to you.”

“It is.”

We both fall silent, and Trace must sense I'm not in the mood to talk, because he reaches out and turns on the radio. A rock station begins playing softly in the quietness of the car. As Trace takes me back to Cherry Creek, I stare out my window. What had gotten into me tonight? Why would I ever find a guy that was physically aggressive, attractive? I don't understand it. It dawns on me that the world seems a little hazy to me, and I'm still feeling quite relaxed. I guess I'm drunk. That had been my first thought earlier, and nothing else can explain my strange behavior. Looks like I learned something new tonight that I should have already known. Never trust Tatum.

I must have zoned out, because next thing I know, Trace is pulling right up to the front mansion doors. I peer out the window and see that the place seems to be dark.

Trace cuts the engine. “I'll walk you in and help you get settled.”

We climb out, and Trace walks beside me as we approach the doors. I'm conscious of his body next to mine, and I can feel that weird feeling sweeping through me again. My body is warming in places that aren’t usually so quick to perk up. At least not by simply being near an attractive guy. I try to ignore it as I watch Trace open the door for me.  He politely stands there, waiting for me to enter first.

I step forward, frowning slightly. “Khristos doesn't lock the doors when he's gone?”

“No point. There's a locked gate at the front entrance, remember?”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense,” I say as my heels click loudly on the hard floor. It's dark, and for some reason I trip over my own feet. I start to fall, but then strong arms wrap around me tightly, pulling me upright and against a hard, toned body. My body literally goes on high alert, and suddenly I want him. I want him so badly. The need that I feel is impossible to ignore, because I’m craving Trace like I need air to breathe.

“You okay?” Trace asks as he frowns down at me in the shadowed foyer, not letting me go.

I reach up and frame his face with my hands, tugging him down so my lips can press against his. His entire body stiffens up while excitement shoots through me as I taste him. I kiss him boldly, teasing the seam of his lips with my tongue. I want him to open up and let me in, so I push forward against his chest to get closer and revel in his warmth pressing against my breasts. My teeth nip at his lower lip, demanding him to respond to me.

Trace shudders against me, and then he gives me what I want. His lips part and he takes over the kiss. He angles his mouth over mine in a way that deepens the kiss, and I can’t help but whimper into his mouth. My hands leave his face to sink into his hair as his tongue explores my mouth. His own hands release my waist, and they slide up my back until one hand rests possessively against the back of my neck as his mouth works over mine.

My body is on fire. Literally. I can't seem to get close enough. I want to do some exploring, so I shift my breasts away from his chest so my hands can roam freely. I love the feel of his muscles, and I rub my hand over his pectoral muscles as we devour each other. If anything, the feel of him seems to ignite this frenzy I feel even more. I want to feel his skin. As the kiss grows out of control, I grab his shirt and pull on it. He breaks away briefly, his breath rasping in the darkness as he rids of himself of his shirt before his hands settle on my waist. He presses my back against the wall and he pins me there, his lips back on mine as his hands slide down to run over the curves of my bottom. He yanks my hips up against his, and I can feel the rock-hard bulge in his jeans.

I moan into his mouth as I grind against him. This feels so good, but it’s still not enough. I can't wait to feel him against me. Skin upon skin. I grab his belt buckle and quickly unfasten it. I feel Trace's hands grow impatient as he yanks up the hem of my dress. I expect him to rid me of my panties as I yank the belt out of the loops of his jeans so I can unfasten the top button, but instead, he goes completely still against me.

One minute I'm working to free him of his jeans, and the next, Trace is yanking my hem back down over my hips, and he's physically pushing me away from him. I stumble back slightly and sway. I can't see his expression, but I peer at him with puzzlement anyway.
Why are we stopping?
“What's wrong?” I ask breathlessly.

I see him run his hand through his hair as he swears softly. “Look, you're hot as hell, but Khristos will kill me if I have sex with you.”

That's why we're stopping? I smile and walk up to him. “I don't plan on telling him,” I promise as I reach out to finish unzipping his jeans.

Trace grabs my wrist firmly. “Livvy, stop.”

“Why?” I ask with confusion. “No one needs to know.”

“This isn't like you, are you drunk?” he asks tightly.

“I had one drink. Tatum gave it to me.”

He mutters something under his breath and shoves my hand away from his body. His hand slides against the wall, and a second later the light in the foyer turns on. I blink at the sudden brightness and find Trace's face inches from mine. He holds my chin in place, but it’s a struggle for him to keep me there, because I keep trying to jerk my face from his grip so I can look at his body. He holds my head prisoner and peers into my eyes. I give up trying to see his body and instead push my head forward so I can kiss him, but Trace jerks back abruptly. His eyes darken to a charcoal gray as I see barely veiled anger within their depths.

I shrink back. The need I'd felt for him moments ago fades with my bewilderment. “Did I do something wrong?” I whisper as I stare up at him.

His jaw clenches briefly before his eyes soften. “No. You haven't done anything wrong,” he assures me quietly. “Let's go get you a little something for your head.”

“My head?” For once it's not bothering me.

“Yeah. You're drunk off of whatever Tatum gave you. It'll make your head hurt in the morning, so let's get you a little something now to save you from a really bad hangover.”

“But...” My eyes run over his bare chest with longing. He's broad and powerful, with defined muscles that urge me to run my fingers over them. I lick my swollen lips, and I can still taste Trace on them. I feel that burn within me beginning to spread again.

“Nothing's happening, Livvy,” Trace says firmly as he leans down to grab his shirt off the floor. I'm disappointed. Like really, really disappointed. I watch as he jerks the shirt over his head, and that beautiful chest disappears under the material. He quickly fastens the button of his jeans, then bends down and retrieves his belt off the floor. “Go up to your room, and I'll grab something for your head,” he tells me as he straightens up.

“I have some stuff in my room,” I mutter as I realize I have no way to ease this burning inferno that's been awakened inside me.  I look at him with feverish bewilderment. How do I regain control of my body? Why is this happening to me?

“This is better, I promise. Go,” he says gently.

When I realize he'll be coming up to my bedroom, I perk up. I might be able to change his mind. “Okay,” I say immediately as I turn and walk away, making sure my hips sway a little more than usual. I hear him mutter a curse under his breath, and I smile. As soon as I reach my room, I leave the door open as I turn on the light. I quickly take off the heels and shimmy out of the dress. I'm left in just my white, lacy bra and lace panties.

When Trace walks in, I'm standing there, waiting for him. He has a bottle of water in one hand and a white pill in the other. He averts his gaze when he sees me. “Take this,” he orders.

“What am I doing wrong?” I whisper with frustration. Why does he no longer want me?

Trace meets my questioning gaze with strained eyes. “Take the pill, and then we'll talk.”

I take the pill, swallowing it down with a sip of water. I look at him expectantly. “If this is about Khristos, we don't have to tell him.”

“You're not yourself tonight, Livvy. Trust me, this isn't what you really want.”

“Yes, it is,” I insist. Then, it’s as if someone's dimmed the lights in my room until I realize it's my vision that's darkening. I blink with confusion. Trace's arms wrap around me, supporting me as the world tilts. “Wha..?”

Everything goes dark.

Chapter Nine

The next morning, I awake with the hazy recollection of last night. It’s a little fuzzy in certain areas, but I do remember the two men who'd cornered me. And...I remember throwing myself at Trace in the foyer. In fact, my lips still feel swollen and raw from the kisses we shared. I stay in bed longer than usual as I work through my humiliation. I don't know what got into me last night. I've never thrown myself like that at anyone. Not even Brad. None of my actions last night make sense. Yes, I am very attracted to Trace, but I've always been able to control it. I'm not sure why I did the things I did, but I can only pray that I never have to face Trace again.

It takes me a while to work up the nerve to face the day. When I make my way downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast, I pause outside the doorway. I hear raised masculine voices coming from Khristos's office down the hall, and they sound angry. I'm curious, but since Adelaide's looking at me expectantly, I step further into the kitchen and cross it to take my usual seat at the island counter. “What's going on?”

She smiles slightly with a hint of wryness. “Roman's in a bit of trouble this morning.”

“What did he do?”

“That would be up to him to share. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.”

Adelaide brings me my tea and breakfast a minute later. The voices in the office have quieted down, and I wonder what's going on. What had Roman done to get in so much trouble? My thoughts shift, and I can't help but dwell on my own predicament. “Addie?”

“Yes?” she asks as she turns away from the stove to look at me.

“Have you ever done anything completely out of character for no reason?” I ask quietly. It still bothers me that I'd acted...like a dog in heat last night. That's what it'd felt like. I'd been mortifyingly desperate, and I can feel my face heating at the memory.

She smiles gently and walks over, standing on the other side of the island counter. “A time or two, yes.”

“I did something really stupid last night,” I reveal.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

I look down at my plate as I pick up my fork. “Not really. I...owe someone an apology, but I'd rather avoid them instead.”

“Sometimes it's hard doing the right thing,” she says kindly as she gives my shoulder a motherly squeeze before walking back to the stove.

A door slams down the hall, startling me. I look up to see Roman stride past the kitchen doorway and down the hall. Trace walks past a second later, not even glancing in the direction of the kitchen. Humiliation washes over me again at just the sight of him. But then it sinks in that he might have told Khristos about last night. What if Roman was in trouble because I got drunk? Wasn't that the one thing Khristos was adamant about not allowing in his club?

“Excuse me,” I blurt to Adelaide before I rush after Trace. I'm assuming he's leaving, so I hurry towards the front of the mansion. The last thing I want to do is face him, but I need to know if Roman's in trouble because of me. When I don't see him, I open the front door and see that he's walking to his SUV parked out front.

“Trace, wait up!” I call as I hurry out the door and cross the circular drive to him.

He pauses near his car and turns to looks at me. He smiles easily as if I hadn't literally jumped him last night. “Feeling better this morning?”

I'm pretty sure my face is fire engine red. “Uh, yeah. About last night...”

“It's fine. No need to apologize,” he says as his eyes roam over my face as if searching for something.

“I'm sorry!” I blurt out. “I'm not...that isn't...” I'm at a loss for words. How do you apologize for trying to seduce someone and refusing to take no for an answer? And it's not lost on me that today I feel in complete control around him. Yes, I want to touch him, but I can control the urge. I can admire how great he looks today in jeans and the long-sleeved dark shirt he's wearing, but I don't act upon my attraction.

“You weren't yourself, I know that. Don't worry about it, Livvy.”

“But...”

He smiles slightly. “I was willing to kiss you back, wasn't I?”

My heart skips a beat, and I nod.

“No harm was done,” he says simply.

“Okay,” I say with relief as I feel the initial awkwardness of seeing him fade. “You and Roman were in Khristos's office, and Addie tells me Roman’s in trouble. Did he get in trouble because I got drunk? You didn’t tell Khristos about what I did, did you?” I ask as my face scrunches up with dread. Roman and Khristos knowing I threw myself at Trace would be worse than the actual act itself.

“Livvy, do you really think I'm going to tell my boss I almost slept with his niece?” he asks pointedly as his silver eyes glint with dry humor.

I breathe out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, good. The last thing I want is for anyone to find out how off the hinges I was last night.” I look up at him questioningly. “Why
is
Roman in trouble?”

“All I can say is he handled a delicate situation very badly last night.”

***

After what feels like weeks but was actually only one—well, six days to be exact—I hear from Sheffield. It's Monday, and I find a voice mail from him on my phone during my lunch break. He wants me to stop by his office when I get the chance. Has he found my mom already? I feel excited, and I wish I had a longer lunch break, but I just spent ten minutes of it walking—actually window shopping—on my way to a burger joint a few blocks away from Sinfully Yours. There's not enough time to go all the way over to Dunhill Street. I'll have to wait until after work.