Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (47 page)

I cupped his cheeks in my palms, my fingers delving into his hair. He pulled my bottom lip between his teeth and let it go with an audible pop. I moaned, rotating my hips against his.

With skillful fingers, he undid the clasp holding my bra in place, and pulled the fabric from my body. He palmed my breasts in his hands before taking one in his mouth. I arched my back, biting down painfully on my lip to contain the mewling sounds that wanted to escape.

I buried my face into his neck, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Trace. The fresh woodsy scent of his soap clung to his skin, along with the scent of motor oil, and leather.

He released my breast and I found myself flat on my back, on the couch, with him hovering above me. His eyes were a dark lust-filled green. His chest rose and fell heavily with every shaky breath he took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to pull him to me but he was too heavy.

“Please,” I begged.

He closed his eyes, and wet his lips, his jaw tightening. His right hand fisted my jean shorts and he flicked the button open. The zipper slid down and I lifted my hips so he could pull them off.

He suckled my neck, whispering, “I can’t resist you.”

I felt exactly the same.

From the moment I met Trace, he was my undoing.

He sat up and grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out a condom.

The rest of our clothes disappeared and he sunk inside me. “God, you feel so fucking good,” he moaned into my ear.

I kissed his chest and my body arched against his. I felt like I was an instrument and Trace knew how to pluck all the right strings to make my body sing.

He licked a wet trail between my breasts and circled his tongue around one of my nipples, drawing it into his mouth, and suckling. The sensation shot waves of pleasure straight to my core and my muscles tightened around him.

“Oh, God, Olivia,” he panted, releasing the taught peak from his lips, and quickening his pace as he rubbed his thumb over my clit.

My fingernails dug into his arms and my toes curled.

He sealed my mouth with his and his tongue flicked lightly against mine.

My hands skimmed up his smooth back and settled in his hair. My eyes closed and my body tightened.

Trace drew back from my lips, and even though my eyes were closed, I felt his burning into me.

My neck arched and I whimpered as my body shook underneath him.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, “you’re so incredibly beautiful.”

I opened my eyes, in time to watch the expression of bliss tear across his face.

He peppered small kisses all over my face and slipped from body.

I closed my eyes again, too drained to move. I heard him pad across the floor to the kitchen to throw away the condom. A moment later, he was back, picking me up, and carrying me to bed. He curled his naked body around mine and I smiled contently.

I awoke in bed alone but the sounds and smells of breakfast being made could be heard outside Trace’s bedroom. I sat up, inhaling the scent of freshly cooked bacon. My stomach immediately began to rumble, reminding me that with the excitement of yesterday, I hadn’t eaten dinner.

I rolled out of bed, dressed in a tank top, and a pair of Trace’s old boxers.

I padded out into the open kitchen, and living area, taking a seat on one the stools. I rested my elbows on the raised bar, watching the drool-worthy sight of Trace making breakfast in only his boxers.

“Hungry?” He asked.

“Starving,” I replied, watching the way his hands and arm muscles flexed as he flipped an egg in the skillet.

It still amazed me that Trace was such a skilled cook.

He slid a plate with a fried egg, biscuit, and two pieces of bacon my way, along with a fork and glass of orange juice. He fixed a plate for himself and sat on the stool beside me.

“Thank you,” I smiled at him, “for yesterday. The balloon ride was amazing.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said genuinely. “I like seeing you happy like that…” He paused. “When you’re carefree and don’t care what anyone thinks,” he elaborated.

“It’s nice sometimes to be…free,” I replied.

“So,” he cleared his throat and sipped at his juice to stall, “have you—uh—thought any about what I asked you?”

“About moving in?” I questioned.

He nodded.

“I have,” I answered simply.

“Annnnnnnd?” He drew out the word.

“As long as you’re truly okay with me living here, then yes, I’ll move-”

His arms wrapped around me and he kissed me soundly.

“I’m so happy that you’re gonna move in,” he brushed strands of my hair away from my face. “My space is your space. My stuff is your stuff. Anything that’s mine, baby, it’s yours.”

I thought that was quite the declaration for someone that hadn’t said, ‘I love you’, yet, but I chose not to comment.

“So, you’re really okay with this?” I asked. I didn’t want to pack all of my things, and move in here, only to have him change his mind a week later, and ask me to leave.

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t sure,” he took his seat once more.

“Okay,” I smiled widely. “We have to be out of the dorms by Friday.” That was only two days away and I hadn’t done a lot of packing. My procrastinator side had decided to rear its ugly head.

“I’ll make room for all of your things,” he promised.

“Thanks,” I watched him from the corner of my eye, looking for any sign that he was unsure of us living together, but it was obvious that he was pleased about this. His lips kept turning up in a smile.

I was happy too…but scared at the same time.

Our relationship was going so well, but despite my gut and what Avery had said, I wasn’t sure if almost seven months of dating was long enough to know someone was your forever.

But damn, if I didn’t believe that anyway.

Trace dropped me off at the dorms after breakfast since I had plans to have lunch with my mom. I showered and dressed for the day and spent some time packing before I had to meet her. Since my mom was now living nearby we tried to get together at least once a week. With her new job, and classes winding down, it had been two weeks since I had seen her.

I glanced at the clock on our dorm wall and jumped up. I should’ve picked my mom up twenty minutes ago, since she didn’t have a car yet.

I grabbed my keys and bag, dashing outside, and drove to Avery’s house. I called my mom on the way, apologizing for letting the time get away from me.

When I pulled into the Callahan’s driveway, she was already waiting outside.

“I’m so sorry,” I told her as she climbed into my old blue Ford Focus.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she smiled. “I know you have a lot of packing to do.”

I nodded, nervous about having to tell her that our plan to live together wasn’t going to work anymore.

“Where do you want to eat?” I asked her.

“How about T.G.I. Fridays? Don’t they have an area to eat outside? It’s so nice today that I’d like to be outdoors,” she suggested.

“That works for me,” I shrugged. I loved being outside, rain or shine, hot or cold.

The restaurant was fairly busy but we only had to wait five minutes so it wasn’t too bad.

The red umbrella shaded us from the brunt of the sun. The humidity in Virginia could kill you, I swear. Some days, it felt like you were walking through a thick wall of steam.

A waiter came and took our orders, and when he disappeared, I slipped my sunglasses into my hair and eyed my mom.

“You look like you have something to say?” She sipped her ice water, eyeing me over the glass.

“Um, yeah,” I looked down, fiddling with the strands of my hair, searching for split-ends.

“So, what is it?” She questioned.

“Um,” I wet my lips, “you see…Trace…he…um…he asked me to move in with him, and I said yes,” I cringed.

“Oh, honey, that’s great!” She reached for my hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“Really? You’re not mad?” I brightened, the anxiety draining from my body. I had been worrying unnecessarily since I had made my decision.

“Of course not,” she scooted the metal patio chair back so she could see me better. “I understand completely. He’s your boyfriend, and you need to further your life with him, not worry about me.”

“Still…I feel bad,” I admitted, adding sugar to my tea, and using my straw to mix in the granules. After what happened with Aaron, I felt responsible for my mom.

“Don’t,” she demanded. “I’m fine. I’m doing great at the hospital. They’ve already been hinting that if I keep up the good work, I could possibly be considered for a promotion,” she explained, excitedly.

“That’s great, mom!” I exclaimed. It was so nice to see her starting a life of her own, where she was able to do what
she
wanted.

“And,” she took a deep breath, “with Resa’s help, I’m seeing a lawyer next week to discuss my options for leaving Aaron. I was scared to do it earlier, but I’m ready for a divorce. It’s been five months since I left,” she took a deep breath. “I need to completely cut my ties with him and that life,” she swished her hands through the air in a cutting motion. “I’m ready to move on and I can’t do that if I’m still tied to Aaron.”

“I understand completely,” I grinned, so incredibly proud of her. She had come a long ways in only five months. There had been a change in her almost immediately, but the differences, now, were drastic. Sometimes, it was hard to recognize her as my mom. She seemed so much younger and vibrant now. Her skin glowed and her hair shined. But the biggest change, in my mind at least, was the fact that she smiled and laughed all the time, which were two things she never did while she was with Aaron.

She smiled gratefully at me. “I’m so lucky I have you, Olivia. You’re the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.”

“Mom,” I groaned, “you’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not,” she shook her head forcefully. “I always wanted a daughter and I never imagined that I would have one as strong as you,” she reached for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’re a fighter, Liv. I know you don’t see yourself that way, but you are. Most kids,” she swallowed thickly, “that grow up with someone like Aaron as a ‘father’ don’t turn out well. It usually pushes them over the edge and they let it affect everything about them. But not you, Liv.”

Her words pleased me. That had always been one of my biggest fears. That the way I had been treated by my so-called father had caused me to lose my grip on who I really was. But it hadn’t. I was…me. I was shy and quiet, but passionate, and as Trace liked to say, I had my spitfire side.

“Thanks mom,” I smiled at her, sliding my sunglasses back down to hide my eyes from the bright sun.

Our food was brought out and we continued to talk.

“Is there—uh—anything going on with you and Nick?” I asked. The words tumbled from my mouth of their own accord, but I
was
curious.

The pink staining my mom’s cheeks told me all I needed to know. “He’s just a friend,” she picked at a fry.

“Uh-huh,” I smirked, not buying her statement.

“Honestly,” she added.

It may have only been five months since she left New Hampshire and Aaron behind, but I felt that if she was ready to move on, then she should…even if she was moving on with someone who could be my brother. It was gross, but my mom had been through so much that she deserved to find love, in whomever she wanted.

“Mom, don’t lie to me,” I smiled at her to ease my words. I wanted her to understand that I wasn’t judging.

Heck, I was moving in with my boyfriend and neither of us had said those three very important words.

“If there’s something going on with you two, you can tell me. I’m not here to judge you. I want you to be happy,” I added.

She sighed, staring across the road at the rows of shops and eateries.

“I have no idea what’s going on with Nick,” she answered honestly. “While he was home, we spent a lot of time together. He’s nice and wonderful to talk to,” she smiled wistfully and I wondered if she was thinking of Derek, my real father. “He doesn’t seem as young as his age suggests. He’s insanely smart and I love talking with him about whatever. Since he went back to school, we’ve been talking on the phone…a lot,” she added reluctantly. “I really like him, but he’s young and has his whole life ahead of him. There’s nothing that I can offer him,” she shrugged, motioning the waiter over for a refill of water. “He deserves someone young and vibrant. Not someone like me who’s been hardened by life.”