Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (34 page)

He helped me step out of them but left my panties on.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured into the darkened room.

I had felt like a plain Jane before I met Trace, but he made me see that I was beautiful.

When I was sure that he was only going to look up at me, and go no further, he made his move.

He was still on his knees and grasped me around the hips, pulling me up until my legs were over his shoulders.

Somehow, I ended up with my back against the wall, as he pushed my panties to the side and closed his mouth over my aching center.

I cried out, grabbing at his hair.

“Trace,” I pleaded for no reason.

The sensations running through my body were more intense than the first time with Trace. Could it get better each time? It didn’t seem possible, but this was definitely better.

His tongue lapped at me and I held a hand over my mouth to quiet my cries.

His tongue flicked back and forth against my clit.

“I’m coming,” I gasped breathlessly. I closed my eyes and my body shook. My hands grappled for anything to hold onto.

When I opened my eyes, I found that I was on the bed, with no clue how I got there. I really hoped I hadn’t passed out. That would be embarrassing.

I heard Trace opening the drawer on his night table along with the ripping sound of a foil packet.

My body tightened in anticipation.

“Ready?” he hovered above me and I felt him at my entrance. If I raised my hips just a little…

“Yes,” I gasped. I was more than ready.

He kissed me and lifted my hips, sliding all the way in, in one hard thrust.

I cried out and he stilled. “Did I hurt you?” Worry filled his eyes.

“No,” I tried to steady my breathing. “Just surprised me. It feels good. Keep going,” I encouraged.

“Are you sure?” He pushed my hair off my forehead. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

I nodded. He moved his hips, slowly at first, and then gradually grew faster. Sweat dripped off his body and he gritted his teeth.

I held onto his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist as my toes curled.

He reached between us, and rubbed his thumb over my clit, sending me over the edge once more.

I repeated his name as all other words left me.

His fingers dug into my hips.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped. “I’m close.”

He pumped faster and I felt my core tightening again.

At the same time, we cried out each other’s names, and collapsed into a tangle of arms and legs.

He kissed the end of my nose tenderly, and pulled me against him so we were chest to chest, facing each other.

“I think my couch is proving dangerous to us,” he chuckled. “That’s twice it’s led to us ending up in bed together.”

I laughed too, trailing my finger down his chest. “I think I like your couch.”

“It has its perks,” he kissed my forehead. “Our hot chocolate’s going to be cold now.”

“How can you think about hot chocolate right now?” I giggled.

“Because,” he rubbed his nose against mine, “it’s hot chocolate. The greatest drink on the planet. I mean, how can you go wrong with liquid chocolate?”

“I can’t argue with that.” I circled a finger around the tattoo over his heart.

“I’ll get it and bring it in here,” he stood, disposing of the condom, and pulled on his boxers. He grabbed a long sleeve plaid button down shirt from his dresser and threw it at me. “Here, put this on.”

“Why?” I asked, sitting up, shrugging my shoulders into the shirt. The material was soft and warm. It smelled of Trace…like leather and mint, mixed with detergent.

“If you keep laying around naked I won’t be able to control myself,” his eyes narrowed, “and I like to take my time with you…to savor every inch.”

I shivered as I buttoned the shirt.

“I’ll be right back,” he tapped the door on his way out.

I scooted back on the bed and propped one of the pillows up so that my back wouldn’t be digging into the wood headboard.

I heard the sound of the microwave whirling and the smell of hot chocolate infused the air once more.

Before the microwave dinged, I heard him open it, and remove the cups. He came strolling into the room with the two mugs. He looked absolutely delicious with his hair mused and his boxers hanging low on his hips. I had thought Avery was crazy when she called guys delicious, but I understood now.

“I tried not to get it too hot,” he handed me the black mug with the yellow Batman logo on it. He kept the bright green one that had Yoda on one side and said, ‘May the force be with you,’ on the other side.

I took a hesitant sip. Despite what he had said, I was worried it would be scalding, but it was the perfect temperature.

“This is the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had,” I informed him with a smile, leaning back against the pillows. “I don’t normally like it, but this is really yummy.”

He gasped, stretching his legs out in front of him. “First ketchup and now hot chocolate! I don’t think I can date you anymore.”

“First off, I said this was good,” I pointed to the mug in my right hand, “and secondly, ketchup is disgusting.”

“Don’t say that. Ketchup is delicious,” he grinned over the rim of his mug.

I pretended to gag. “It’s so nasty.”

“How can you be American and not like ketchup? It doesn’t add up,” he shook his head.

I took a sip of the steaming liquid. “I just don’t. Do you like everything you eat?”

“No, but it’s
ketchup!
It’s impossible not to love,” he exclaimed dramatically.

“You do realize that we’re two adults, sitting here, arguing about ketchup,” I eyed him.

“But it’s ketchup!” He repeated. “It deserves to be argued for its tomatoey goodness!”

“Tomatoey isn’t even a word,” I laughed.

“Well, it should be,” he huffed, shaking his head back and forth. “Especially when used in the defense of ketchup.”

We finished our hot chocolate and Trace insisted on cleaning the mugs while I lounged in bed. I wanted to help, but he refused. Trace was stubborn like that. I stretched out in his bed, suddenly feeling tired, even though it couldn’t be later than six o’ clock in the evening.

Trace came back into the bedroom and rummaged through his top drawer.

He pulled out a small white box and sat down on the bed beside me, stretching his long legs out.

“I got you something,” he whispered softly.

“Trace, you didn’t-”

“I know,” he put a finger over my lips. “It’s not for Christmas or anything. I saw it and it made me think of you. I had to buy it.”

I took the box from his outstretched hand, and pulled the lime green ribbon off, before lifting the lid.

Inside, was a necklace with a delicate gold chain, and a small star charm that was no bigger than the nail on my pinky finger.

“It’s so pretty,” I gasped, lifting it out of the box. I wasn’t one to wear jewelry…ever, but I would make an exception for this.

“You really like it?” He seemed unsure.

“Trace, I love it,” I clasped it in my hand, tightly; like I was afraid he might take it back.

“Good,” he breathed out a sigh of relief.

I glanced down at the necklace again. “Why a star? I love it, I do, but I’m just wondering.”

“Because, you’re a star, Olivia. Even though you can’t see it, you are. You shine so brightly and captivate everyone with your light and brilliance. Also,” he grew bashful, a rare state for Trace, “it made me think of that night, on the picnic table, after you told me about your list, and we saw the shooting star,” he brushed his fingers along my chin.

“I-I-” I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe he had put so much thought into a gift for me. “Thank you,” I finally gasped.

“You’re welcome,” he kissed my cheek and I waited for a sexual innuendo or something snarky to come out of his mouth. But it didn’t happen. Trace was oddly serious…for the moment at least. I wouldn’t put it past him to begin arguing the virtues of ketchup again.

I brushed my hair to the side of my neck and fumbled a few times with the clasp, since I wasn’t used to them, but I finally got it on.

Trace fingered the necklace, purposely brushing my chest in the process.

“Perfect,” he smiled at me. “By the way, you look really hot in my shirt, and it’s not helping me control myself.”

“What should I do then?” I asked, playing along.

His eyes darkened and he climbed on top of me, dragging me down the bed, so that I was flat on my back.

“I think you should take it off,” he whispered huskily.

“And I think you should take it off for me,” I played with the top button.

“Is that so?” He raised a brow.

I nodded.

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Challenge accepted.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve,” Trace whispered, skimming his fingers down my bare arm while I curled against his side.

“Mhmm,” I murmured. “I know.”

“Have any plans?” He asked casually.

I pretended to think. “Not that I know of.”

“I know it’s super last minute,” he trailed his fingers over my shoulder and collarbone, “but I was hoping you’d accompany me to my family’s party.”

“Is it fancy?” I questioned.

“Well, yeah,” he replied reluctantly.

“How fancy?” I asked nervously.

“Like, I’ll be in a tux, fancy,” he winced.

“Trace!” I exclaimed, sitting straight up, bringing the sheet with me to hide my chest. “It’s not like I keep a ball gown stashed in my suitcase! Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

He grinned like a little boy and tucked his right arm behind his head. “Because I knew it would give you more time to think of an excuse not to go. I was going to ask you yesterday, but I got distracted,” he pulled the sheet from my feeble clutch.

“How do you expect me to get ready for something this fancy on such short notice?” I growled angrily.

He chuckled. “Your best friend comes in handy sometimes.”

“Avery knew! How? That girl can’t keep a secret to save herself!” I cried.

“Apparently, she can,” he smirked.

“Ugh,” I groaned and flopped back on the bed dramatically.

“She should be here soon, to help you get ready,” he slid from the bed and pulled on his boxers and jeans. He left the belt undone.

“I hope you’re prepared for your apartment to be turned into a beauty salon,” I whined, covering my face with my hands.

How did Trace expect me to be comfortable at some fancy New Year’s party? I would be completely out of my element, with a bunch of strangers, and I was one of the shyest people on the planet.

I heard Trace pad across the room and then the bed dipped down beside me as he sat.

He pulled my hands away and gazed down at me. “I’ll be by your side the whole night. I promise. You have nothing to worry about. I don’t want to go but I’m expected to be there. Excuse me for wanting my girlfriend with me.”

I bit down on my lip. When he put it like that…

“Okay. Fine. I’ll go and I’ll be happy about it,” I forced a smile.

“You don’t look very happy,” he chuckled. “Maybe, I should-” He leaned down, kissing me thoroughly, and took my bottom lip lightly between his teeth. He placed smaller kisses along my neck and my body arched into his.

“Trace,” I gasped his name out in a small cry.

His chuckle vibrated against my skin as he pulled the sheet completely off of me and moved lower.

Then, someone had to go and knock on the stupid door.

Trace cursed quietly, and climbed off of me, quickly covering my body with the sheet. He ran his fingers through his hair. “That has to be Avery. I’ll get the door while you get dressed,” he mumbled, striding from his bedroom.

I slipped out of the bed and dressed in record speed.

I was zipping my jeans when Avery busted into the room.

“Good, you’re dressed,” she dropped a garment bag on the bed, along with what looked like a suitcase full of supplies. “I was afraid I might see a nipple or something.”

“Then why would you come barging in here,” I snapped, mad that my best friend had known about this stupid extravagant party, and I had not.

“It’s the excitement that drives me,” she winked, opening the suitcase, dropping hair supplies and makeup on the bed. “It smells like sex in here. Y’all weren’t gettin’ it on when I knockety knock knocked, were you?” She asked, pretending to knock the air.

I rolled my eyes.

“You were!” She gasped. “Olivia Owens! You naughty girl,” she smacked my side.

I looked toward the doorway of the bedroom, for Trace, silently pleading for him to swoop in and save me from my best friend.

“I sent lover boy away,” Avery cackled. “There’s no one here to save you.”

“Ugh,” I groaned.

“Come on,” Avery grabbed me by the shoulders, and pushed me out of the bedroom, and into the bathroom. “Shower time.”

I half-expected her to strip me down, and force me inside the shower, but she didn’t. She simply smiled and closed the door.

I knew I was in for it.

I washed my hair, and scrubbed my body, until my skin was raw and pink.

Frankly, I wasn’t trying to get super clean, I was stalling for time.

When Avery started pounding on the door, I knew I had overstayed my welcome. I twisted the squeaky knob and the water shut off.