Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (42 page)

I grinned mischievously, trying to distract him. “If we’re not going out, there are plenty of things we can do inside.”

He turned to me, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “And what would that be?”

I smiled slyly, and climbed onto his lap. “How about I show you?”

“Ugh,” Avery grumbled as we sunk into the sand. “It figures, the day we’re supposed to go home, the sun decides to come out, and it’s actually warm.”

“I don’t consider sixty degrees that warm,” I laughed, kicking off my shoes, sinking my toes into the cold sand.

“Maybe not,” she agreed, pushing her gigantic sunglasses further up her nose, “but it’s better than it’s been the last few days.”

“That’s true,” I shrugged, watching the guys toss a football back and forth.

There were a few other people scattered along the beach, but not many. The temperature might have been in the lower sixties but the cool ocean breeze made it feel more like fifty-five. Trace was being overprotective and didn’t want me outside, but since it was our last day here, he’d given in, and agreed to stop treating me like a small child.

I brought the pink hoodie of my sweatshirt up over my head and watched the guys through my dark sunglasses. I heard the sounds of their laughter carrying along on the wind. Since I had met Trace, I hadn’t spent much time around Luca or seen how they interacted as friends, but it was clear to me now, that like Avery and me, they were inseparable. Best friends, the ones you keep for life, are hard to find, so when you do, you hold on with everything you have, and never let go.

I leaned back on my elbows and stretched my legs out, letting the sun warm me as much possible.

I let my eyes close and basked in the warmth fanning across my face.

“You’re not falling asleep on me are you?” Avery groaned, poking my shoulder.

“No,” I giggled turning to look at her.

“Good,” she slid closer to me. The evil smile gracing her face told me that she was about to tell me something I wasn’t going to like to hear. “We’ve both been so busy that I haven’t had the proper time to talk to you about Luca.”

“Oh no,” I groaned, wishing I could teleport myself away. “Please, no.”

Talking about a guy, when it came from Avery, meant I was about to hear all about Luca’s prowess in bed. Whenever she did this, I was never able to look the guy she was dating, in the eye,
ever again
. Since it appeared that Luca was sticking around for the long haul, this could prove difficult.

I was surprised that I had managed to avoid this conversation with her for so long. Obviously, my luck had run out.

She continued, like I had said nothing. “Ohmigawd, Olivia, I have never been with someone that’s as good as he is. Let me tell you, he knows
exactly
what he’s doing.” She emphasized her words with a thrust of her hips.

“Avery, I’m begging you-”

“He’s so bossy and controlling when we have sex. Normally, I’m not okay with that, but strangely, it turns me on when he turns all macho and bosses me around…I mean, I’m not okay with him bossing me around
outside
the bedroom,” she rattled, waving her hands through the air dramatically. “He gets rough too,” she sighed dreamily. I didn’t understand what was so appealing about rough sex, but since I had never experienced it, I decided to keep my mouth shut. “And he has an apadravya,” she grinned wickedly.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” I raised a brow.

She looked at me like I was a complete idiot.

“What? I don’t know what it is!” I cried.

With a dramatic sigh, she explained, “It’s a piercing, through the head of his penis-”

“Shut up!” I slapped my hands over my ears. “I don’t want to hear this!” I shook my head back and forth. “Too much information!”

I saw Avery roll her eyes, even through her sunglasses. “Stop freaking out, Olivia. It’s not necessary.”

I reluctantly let my hands fall from my ears so that her voice was no longer muffled.

“I hate you so much right now!” I exclaimed. “Now, every time I see him,” I pointed to Luca out on the beach, “all I’m going to be able to think of is that, that, that,
thing
,” I stuttered.

“It’s
wonderful
,” she sing-songed. “It hits my g-spot
every single time
.”

I covered my ears once more.

She pushed my shoulders and I fell over into the sand.

“For someone that’s having regular sex, with their smokin’ hot boyfriend, you can be such a prude,” she grumbled.

“I’m not a prude!” I defended.
Okay, maybe I was, but who wanted to hear about their best friend’s, boyfriend’s, penis piercing? It was far too much for anyone to handle.
“There’s a fine line between talking about girl stuff…or even the rough sex you’re enjoying,” I pointed a finger at her, “and telling me all about his man parts.”

“Oh, Olivia,” Avery sighed, laying back on her propped elbows, “you are such a preacher’s daughter.”

I shook my head. I could never get anywhere with Avery. She was never able to see when she crossed a line.

I decided to try a different tactic.

“How would you feel, if Luca was over there, telling Trace all about your vagina?” I reasoned.

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t care.”

The girl had no shame.

“I don’t understand you,” I laughed.

She pushed her sunglasses into her hair and looked over at me with a wink. “The joys of being one of a kind.”

A kiss was pressed against my nose and I stirred in my sleep. I slowly opened my eyes and found Trace hovering above me, a grin plastered on his handsome face. How was he always so peppy in the mornings? It took me forever to wake up.

“What?” I yawned, slapping a hand over my mouth, to cover my morning breath.

“Get dressed, we have places to go, and people to see,” he tossed my clothes at me. “And hurry.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, rolling out of bed, and dressing. I pulled my hair back in a sloppy ponytail and grabbed one of Trace’s baseball caps to hide how bad my hair looked.

I laced up my Converse and wiped my sleepy eyes as I stepped into the kitchen area. Trace had cooked eggs and bacon for breakfast. I shoveled some onto a plate and ate it mechanically.

“Where are we going?” I asked, stifling another yawn, “and what time is it, anyway?”

“It’s seven,” he answered, striding into the kitchen. He was dressed in typical Trace fashion. If he didn’t make those plaid shirts look so darn good, I would be so sick of them by now. “And we’re going to see Gramps and Trent. I need their help with something.”

“Oh. Why do I need to come?” I finished my breakfast and rinsed the plate.

“It involves you,” he grinned, grabbing two bottles of water from the refrigerator.

He tossed one at me, and even in my sleepy state, I managed to catch it.

“Of course,” I rolled my eyes.

He grabbed his car keys and started for the door. I followed slowly behind him, blinking my eyes rapidly as I tried to wake up.

I had been having so many late nights studying that I had been looking forward to sleeping in on this Saturday morning. Leave it to Trace to ruin my plans. I was excited to see Warren and Trent though. I had grown fond of both of them.

The trees opened up and the mansion came into view. I gazed at it in awe. I was sure I would never get used to the sight of it. The lawn was massive and had been recently mowed. Purple, white, and blue flowers dotted the landscape.

Trace parked, and instead of going inside, we headed around back, past the outdoor swimming pool, and tennis court.

I saw Trent and Warren in the distance but couldn’t see what they were doing.

When we got close enough, my eyes zeroed in on the targets set up. My eyes widened.

“Think you can handle a gun?” Trace smirked.

“I can handle you,” I countered, “so I can definitely handle a gun.”

His laugh rumbled through his body. “That’s funny.”

“Hey,” Trent smiled. He was dressed casually in a pair of shorts and t-shirt. The tattoo that covered his upper arm looked like some sort of waterscape. His dark hair was tousled in the front, making him look even more like his brother. “Ready to learn to shoot?” He asked me, pointing at one of the targets. “Trace said you wanted to know how to shoot a gun.”

“Uh, yeah,” I muttered.

“You don’t need to look so scared,” Trent chuckled and bumped my shoulder with his. “Us Wentworth boys have excellent aim. Right, Gramps?”

Warren shook his head, hobbling towards us. “You have nothing to be afraid of, Olivia,” he assured me.

“This will be fun,” Trace smirked cockily, and strode over to a golf cart I was sure Warren and Trent had used to get here from the house. Poor Warren obviously had trouble getting around.

Trace opened a lock box that was on the back of the golf cart. I walked over and peered over his shoulder at the weapon that could kill someone with a simple pull of a trigger.

Trace clucked his tongue, looking at the different guns in the box. “Let’s try a revolver and a semi-automatic pistol for you. Those should be easier for you to handle since you’re a beginner, but they still have some firepower to them,” he murmured, tapping a finger against his lips.

“You’re taking forever,” Trent groaned from behind us. “Just pick one and show her how to shoot.”

“Why do you have to be so impatient?” Trace snapped at his brother.

“Why do you have to be so annoying?” Trent raised a brow.

Trace shook his head and grabbed two guns. I followed him over to one of the targets Trent and Warren set up.

“This is a revolver,” he held the gun in his right hand aloft. I was of medium size with a silver cylinder that held chambers for the bullets. “And this one,” he held the other where I could see it, “is a semi-automatic.” This one was sleeker looking. “Which one do you want to try?”

I pointed to the semi-automatic.

He grinned. “Why am I not surprised?”

He returned the other gun and jogged back to my side. Warren and Trent were already shooting at their targets while Trace explained what I needed to do.

“Semi-automatics are slimmer and lighter than a revolver,” his eyes were serious as he spoke. “They can fire more bullets, quicker, and the trigger is easier.”

He loaded the magazine with bullets, and directed me with how to stand and hold it, before he finally handed it to me.

I held it in my hands, surprised that I wasn’t shaking.

“Take a deep breath,” Trace coached. “Look at the target, and when you think you’re ready, aim and fire.”

I swallowed, eyeing the paper target.

I pulled the trigger and resisted the urge to close my eyes. The bullet missed by a few feet, not even connecting with the paper, but I had done it. I had actually shot a gun.

“That was close,” Trace chuckled.

“You’re such a liar. That was nowhere close,” I shook my head at him.

“I was trying to make you feel better,” he defended.

“I want to try again,” I told him.

He helped me back into position, but he kept distracting me with a brush of his fingers over my shoulders…down my back…playing with my ponytail.