Falling Harder (27 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Nadia

Together Again

In his flannel shirt and worn blue jeans, Trace looks about
as out of place as can be in this room I’ve rented for the night. He doesn’t
have an ounce of pretension in him—it’s one of the things that I love best
about this man. I’ve never felt at home in these swanky spaces, either. Even my
apartment is far too neat and sanitized for my liking. Waking up in Trace’s
humble apartment this morning was the most honest I’ve felt in a long time.

“Nadia?” he says, standing in the middle of the cavernous
room.

Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, Chicago stretches in
all directions. I can almost imagine that we’re hidden away, above any trouble
that might come to pass. It’s a nice daydream.

“Why did you want me to come here?” Trace presses, taking a
step toward me. “What if someone you knew saw us together? Wouldn’t your job be
in jeopardy?”

“I couldn’t care less about that, Trace,” I tell him. It’s
the truth.

“You’ve worked hard for the life you have,” he replies, “I
don’t want to be the thing that ruins your happiness.”

“Ruins my...? Trace, you can’t really think that’s
possible.”

“I’ve made a royal shit storm of things so far,” he mutters,
locking his gaze with mine, “If you brought me here to tell me that I’d better
stay away, I’ll understand. I’ll do anything you ask me to, Nadia. Just say the
words.”

I open my arms to Trace, unable to hold myself back another
moment. “Come here,” I whisper, “Please.”

Without pausing to even draw a breath, Trace scoops me up
into his powerful arms. I melt against his body, my home. This is where I am
safe. This is where I am loved. And to think, I wavered about giving him up
forever.

“You’re the only real thing about my life, Trace,” I tell
him, “You’re the only person who’s ever made me happy.”

“That can’t be—”

“It’s true Trace. And I’ll do anything to protect you, the
way you protect me. No matter how risky. No matter how drastic.”

“Nadia...What are you talking about?” Trace asks, looking
down into my eyes. “What are you planning to do?”

I pull away from Trace and cross the room to my briefcase.
With trembling hands, I pop open the latches and lift the lid. A single file
rests within, and I bring it back to my love. I hand him the file, knowing that
this is the point of no return.

“Open it,” I tell him softly.

With a furrowed brow, Trace lets the file fall open in his
hands. His eyes widen in surprise and confusion. “Nadia...What are you doing
with these?”

I look down at the pictures in the file. Every photo that
captured Trace talking with Skidmore, I stole away from the office. All of the
evidence we were given, every link between Trace and that drug ring, is right
here in our hands.

“I took them,” I tell Trace, “Every last one. I couldn’t
pass them along. I couldn’t let anyone get their hands on them. If I’d left
them there, they would have come after you. I know that you’re telling me the
truth, Trace. I know you’re not working for that monster any more. How can I
let you get taken down for something you did when you were nineteen years old?
I won’t. I refuse.”

“What if they find out you took these?” Trace asks me, “I
can’t be responsible for you losing your job. Your career. You could go to
jail.”

“I know how to cover my tracks,” I assure him, “But even if
I knew that stealing these would have cost me my career or my freedom, I still
would have done it.”

“You shouldn’t have to pay for my misfortune,” Trace says,
letting the photos fall to the floor and resting his hands on my shoulders.

“You’ve paid for mine,” I tell him, throwing my arms around
his shoulders, “You’ve sacrificed so much for me, Trace. Let me shoulder some
of the burden this time.”

“I don’t think I know how to do that,” he tells me.

“Well tough,” I say, pressing myself against him, “We have
to be partners, Trace. We’ve always given each other as much as we’ve gotten in
return. Let me give you something, now. Let me give you a chance at getting out
of this, no questions asked. It’s the least I can do.”

“They still might come after me,” Trace says, “And you know
it, too.”

“Yes...” I admit.

“You might still be making a case that could put me and
Garrick back in prison. It wouldn’t be fair to ask you to cover for us. We
should pay for what we did.”

“Can’t we cross that bridge when we get to it?” I ask
plaintively.

“It’ll still be just as shaky when we get there.”

“Why won’t you let me make this easy for you?” I ask,
running my fingers through his short sandy hair. This close, I can count the
freckles that are scattered across the bridge of his nose. I don’t want to risk
losing him again, so soon after he’s come back into my life.

“Nothing about our lives has been easy,” Trace says, his
arms circling my waist, “But look at us, Nadia. No matter what we have to go up
against, we always find a way back to each other.”

“But we were apart for ten years, Trace,” I say, “I don’t
know if I can risk you being taken away from me again.”

“You know that I never stopped thinking about you for a
second that we were apart,” Trace says, “The worst they can do is put miles
between us, Nadia. But we’ll always be just as close as this.” He pulls me tightly
against him, and I rest my cheek against his. I try to memorize the feel of him
in my arms, the way he smells. Soon, memories might be all I have once more.

“Everything will be OK,” he whispers, kissing me on the
cheek, “I’m sure of it. Someday, we’ll get to be together, Nadia. Maybe that
someday will be now, or maybe it will be when this whole thing finally blows
over, but I know that it will happen.”

“You have to promise me that it will,” I say, blinking away
the tears in my eyes.

“I promise,” Trace tells me, “Even if I have to serve twenty
more years and fight three more wars, I will find a way back to you.”

Sealing his promise, Trace finds my mouth with his. His lips
press fiercely against my own, and I meet him eagerly. I open myself to him, a deep
pulsing need rippling through my core as his tongue brushes against mine. The
taste of him fills my entire world, and all I want is to be drunk on him.

I lay my hands on the solid panes of his chest and push him
back toward the wall. Pressing against him there, I can his desire for me
growing by the second. I let my hands trail down his firm torso, running over
each defined muscle. Trace’s breath catches and I slip my hands up under the
hem of his shirt, savoring the feel of his bare skin. I slip my fingers under
the waist of his jeans, and he can’t hold himself back any longer.

Trace spins me around and presses me up against the wall.
His hands slide down over the rise of my ass and hoist me effortlessly into the
air. I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling him pulse against me. Pinned to
the wall, I bring my lips hungrily to his, closing my teeth around his full
lower lip. Holding me in place, Trace lets his hands travel all across my body.
They cup and squeeze my toned ass, then lift my tee shirt up over my head. His
deft fingers unclasp my bra in a moment, and my breasts tumble free as he rips
the garment off of my body.

As if it were nothing, Trace takes my entire weight into his
arms and carries me across the room to the bed. He spreads me out across the
comforter, less gently than the last time we met like this. There’s an urgency
to his advances, tonight. Every move, every touch is weighted with our
knowledge that this might be our last night together. Trace drinks in the sight
of me, topless tousled.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman in the world, Nadia,” he
tells me. “It almost hurts to look at you sometimes.”

“Then quit looking and get your ass over here,” I tell him,
scrambling onto my knees. My hands find his well-loved shirt and pop open the
buttons, one by one. I slide the flannel off of his hard chest and arms and
bring my lips to his skin. All across his body, I leave trails of kisses,
working my way down in a fervor of lust.

“Jesus, Nadia...” he groans, running his hands through my
hair, “Can’t we just stay here like this?”

“We can tonight,” I tell him, ripping open the buckle of his
belt. I slide his jeans down over his firm ass and move to slip his briefs off
as well.

But before I can, Trace lowers himself onto the bed,
covering me with his muscular, rugged body. He lowers his lips to my breasts,
flicking my sensitive nipples with his tongue. I grab handfuls of the
comforter, moaning as he teases me. Trace’s hands find the zipper of my jeans
and I’m out of them in a heartbeat. The thin material of our underwear is all
that separates us from connecting in that most intimate way.

“I love you, you know,” I tell him, laying my hand against
his cheek.

“You’re crazy,” he grins, “And I love you, too.”

With that, Trace rids himself of his last scrap of clothing
and helps me out of mine, too. We’re alone together, in this tiny corner of the
wide world. There’s nothing between us, nothing keeping us apart. I spread my
legs as Trace lowers himself on top of me. He keeps his eyes trained on mine, his
strong body poised above me. I can feel the staggering length of him against
me, just as I feel myself aching for him to fill me. I run my hands along his
broad back and tug him ever-so-gently toward me.

A low moan escapes my throat as Trace sinks into me, inch by
inch. My head falls back on the pillow and my breasts billow against his torso.
His eyes close blissfully as he pushes deeper, then draws back. Again and again
he presses, and I meet his every pass, leaning into him. I want to feel him in
the very core of me, in all the places I’ve kept protected, that I’ve been
saving for him. We were built for each other, Trace and I. I knew it before I
felt what it was like to take him inside of me, to share this with him. But if
there was ever any doubt, it’s erased by every thrust of his powerful hips.

I gasp as Trace lays his hand against my inner thigh. As he
moves harder and faster above me, his fingers find that throbbing place, the
center of my outrageous pleasure. He strokes me there, rubbing and kneading me
as he presses all the way through my body. The ecstatic pressure mounts within
me, building up in every cell of my body. I lock my arms around him, feeling
myself hurtling toward the edge.

“Trace,” I cry, clutching onto him, “I’m...I’m so...”

But my words give way to a wordless howl of joy as the
levees burst within me. Sensation courses throughout my entire body, and I feel
Trace meet me there. He pulses inside of me, filling me as rippling pleasure
courses through my every nerve, my every fiber. Together, we ride to the peak
of bliss, soaring away beyond any earthly thought beyond the other’s body. I
wish that we could go on, blasting out of this city, this world, this universe
that’s challenged us time after time.

But what goes up must, in the end, come back down the earth.
The overwhelming sensation sweeps through us, leaving us alive and sated in its
wake. Trace and I collapse together, a tangled collection of limbs and heaving
chests. Without bothering to get under the covers, I turn my back to his chest.
Trace scoops me up in his arms, resting his cheek against mine. Sleep rushes in
to claim him at once, and I feel his breath against my skin, feel his chest
rise and fall.

Whatever happens to us next, this moment is one that I’m
keeping locked away forever. We’ve had so few moments to treasure, Trace and I.
Never in our lives have things gone totally right. But this, tonight, feels
more perfect than anything I’ve known. And I’d go to the ends of the earth to
protect it.

***

We rise before my cell phone alarm even begins to ring. The
sky has barely begun to lighten by the time we find our clothes and dress in
silence.

“Remember how we used to wake up early when we were kids?”
Trace smiles.

“Of course I do,” I tell him.

“When I was overseas, I’d get up at the crack of dawn, too.
I knew we were on different sides of the world, so we could never share the
same sunrise. But I still felt close to you, all the same.”

“We’ll get to share plenty of sunrises,” I tell him,
grasping his hand in the early morning light. “I promise you that.”

He smiles back at me sadly. I know his hopes are not high
for an easy out from this mire we’ve found ourselves in.

“I know you have no reason to put your faith in justice,” I
tell him, “But you can put your faith in me. I’m going to get you through this.
I’m going to get
us
through this.”

“You’re incredible,” he tells me.

“I’m just a woman,” I reply, “A woman who cares deeply for
an innocent man.”

“You’ve got a funny definition of innocence,” Trace laughs.

“Fine then,” I say, “How about ‘good’ instead?”

“You...think that I’m good?” Trace asks quietly.

I take his hands in mine, looking up into his emerald green
eyes. “I think you’re the best man I’ve ever met,” I tell him honestly, “No. I
know that you are. And if the rest of the world can’t see that, well...fuck
‘em.”

“Language, Miss Faber,” Trace laughs, “People will think I’m
corrupting you.”

“Speaking of corrupt,” I say, “I bet that Skidmore and his
cronies are rattling off names by now. We should be ready for anything.”

“Always am,” Trace says.

“I love it when you’re cocky,” I tell him, “Now let’s get
ourselves a cup of coffee and a game plan, O’Conner. We’ve got work to do.”

###