Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia #2) (11 page)

I followed him down the pathway a short ways. He stopped in front of a room that had once been labeled 3, but now half of the number was missing, its imprint still visible in the slight discoloration of paint on the door.

“Here goes nothing,” he pushed the door open.

I immediately pinched my nose closed. “Oh my gosh! Did something die in there? It smells awful!”

His lips turned down in a frown and his brows furrowed together. “The dude seriously wants to charge me a hundred dollars a night for this dump?” He asked incredulously.

“I’d rather sleep in the car,” I took a step away, gagging at the pungent smell, and too scared to glance in the room and see what it actually looked like. If it was as frightful as the smell—I shuddered at the thought.

“I think we might have to,” he closed the door. “I know you said no fancy hotels, but I refuse to sleep anywhere that smells like five people died in it.”

He put our bags back in the car and then went inside to argue with the man working there in the hopes of a refund.

I buckled my seatbelt and then double-checked to make sure I’d locked the doors. After smelling that room, Trace was right to be concerned about possible creepers.

Ten minutes later, he came outside shaking his head. I unlocked the doors and he settled himself inside. “That fucker only wanted to refund me fifty percent of what I paid.”

“Is he crazy?” I gasped. “We didn’t even go inside the room!”

“But apparently, since we opened the door housekeeping has to clean the room,” he shook his head in exasperation.

“What house keeping?” I grumbled. “If they actually had someone to clean the rooms they wouldn’t smell like that.”

“Exactly!” He exclaimed with a small chuckle.

“Please tell me you got all your money back?”

“After threatening to call the cops and report this place he finally gave me the money back,” he put the car in reverse and drove around, looking for somewhere else to stay.

“I can’t believe they wanted to charge you a hundred dollars in the first place,” I shook my head in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It really is,” he sighed, scanning the streets for another motel to stop.

Everything was either full or looked too gross to even contemplate.

Finally, when were both about to give up, we spotted a place.

Trace pulled into the parking lot and instead of sitting in the car, I followed him inside.

The place wasn’t grand, which I knew it wouldn’t be, but it was clean and didn’t smell like decaying flesh. I almost gaged at the thought of the putrid smell that the other motel had possessed.

I found a vending machine and got a packet of Skittles for Trace and M&M’s for myself.

“Hey,” he grabbed me by the waist when he spotted me. “Don’t take off like that. I thought someone took you.”

“Sure you did,” I rolled my eyes.

“If they had, I could take them,” he flexed his arm muscles. While Trace was tall and lean, he was also muscular. It was a lethal combination…especially when he whipped out his panty-dropping smile. I hadn’t stood a chance against his charms when I met him.

“I know you could,” I smiled up at him. He had already proved that he was more than capable of protecting me when Aaron attacked me and he managed to get the psycho off of me. He’d punched Aaron so hard he’d given him a concussion. The jerk deserved more than that, but he was dead now, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

Trace was my hero in more ways than one. Not only did he save my life that day, but from the moment I met him he taught me how to live…and eventually how to love.

His lips brushed against my forehead and my eyes fluttered closed at the feather light touch. Even something as simple as that managed to make me feel so many different emotions.

“Come on,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my skin with his words, “let’s get our stuff.”

He grabbed the duffel bags and we headed towards our room.

I crossed my fingers, praying that this one was nothing like the other one.

The door squeaked open and like a chicken I closed my eyes.

“Olivia?” Trace’s voice sounded from inside the room. “Why are you standing outside?”

I hesitantly cracked one eye open.

The room was bathed in a pale orange glow from the ugly bedside lamp. The bed covers looked like they were from the nineties, with some kind of palm leaf design on them, which made no sense seeing as we were in Pennsylvania, not Florida.

“It’s not bad,” I stepped inside, looking over the carpet and walls for mysterious unexplainable stains. Thankfully, there weren’t many, but I’d be keeping my shoes on anyway.

The place was about as nice as any motel could be, and it didn’t smell bad, which was a plus. Not even the scent of cigarettes lingered in the air.

Trace stepped behind me and closed the door, latching the deadbolt. I made sure the blinds were completely shut before stripping out of my clothes.

Trace had his back to me, completely oblivious to what I was doing.

I unclasped my bra and threw it at his back.

He turned sharply, his eyes widening in surprise. A grin spread across his face as he said, “My little vixen.”

At one time I would’ve blushed at his words. But I was a different, more confident, woman now.

I grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him into the bathroom and closing the door.

“I like where this is heading,” he smirked before lowering his head and pressing his lips to mine.

He picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, clasping the hair at the nape of his neck between my fingers. He shuffled towards the shower, reaching inside to turn it on. I pulled his shirt off and tossed it into the corner of the bathroom, then gently removed his glasses and set them on the counter.

He nipped at my lips and chin gently with his teeth, driving me crazy like he knew it would.

I slid down his body, unbuttoning his jeans. He grabbed a condom packet from the pocket and kicked them off.

Both still in our underwear, he pulled me into the shower.

I shrieked at the cold temperature but he silenced me with a kiss. The water began to warm…or maybe it was my internal temperature…but it didn’t matter.

Our lips moved in sync, our bodies melded together. We truly were made for each other in more ways than one.

He kissed me slowly, teasing me. His tongue slipped between my lips and I gasped in pleasure.

A part of me had thought that after all this time we might get…bored with each other or something, but honestly, we were more in love than ever.

I cupped his stubbled cheeks in my hands, deepening the kiss. “Trace,” I pleaded between breaths of air. “I need—”

“What do you need, baby?” He cut me off. “Tell me.”

“I need you,” I pleaded.

“You have me,” he kissed the sensitive skin of my neck, causing me to shiver. I had forgotten about the water beating down on us and was completely absorbed in the moment.

He tore my panties off and they landed on the bottom of the shower with a wet thud. His boxers soon followed. Then he was lifting me, pressing my back against the tile, and slipping inside me. An embarrassing moan of pleasure escaped me and he hummed in response.

My eyes met his lust filled green ones and my muscles tightened. That look in his eyes, the one that said he loved me completely, always managed to get to me. I never thought I’d have a man look at me the way Trace does. With so much love and devotion. I thought that kind of love only existed in fairytales. But it was real. I had it and everyone should get to experience it.

A breathy moan escaped my lips and I gripped his shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed against the skin of my neck before peppering it with kisses.

I wanted to tell him that he was wrong.
He
was the beautiful one. Not just on the outside, but on the inside as well. I didn’t believe there was anyone else as kind, amazing, and pure of soul as Trace. From tidbits he’d confided in me over the years, I knew after his dad died he’d gone off the deep end, and even before that he’d been more concerned with being the rich party boy…but somehow he found himself and the person he truly was, was quite remarkable. More people should aspire to be like him.

“Trace,” I moaned, my hold on him tightening.

“Let go, baby,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

He kissed me deeply and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I let go, clinging to the high, knowing he’d catch me when I came crashing back down.

Trace pulled a loose blue and gray plaid shirt on over his wife-beater, leaving it unbuttoned. Grinning, he shook his head like a dog, spraying water droplets from his hair all around the room.

“That’s a cute look,” I giggled, assessing the mess he’d made of his hair. It was currently stuck up in random directions.

“Thought I’d try something new,” he smiled proudly. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s…interesting,” I tilted my head, studying him, as I leaned against the doorway to the bathroom.

He reached up, brushing the strands down. “Better?”

“Better,” I crossed the room, flopping on the bed. “I’m so tired and I didn’t even drive any,” I groaned, stretching my aching and sore muscles…although, they were tired for a completely different reason now.

“Get up,” he reached for my hand, pulling me into a sitting position, “we’re not going to sleep yet.”

“We’re not?” I frowned, looking at the bed longingly. All I wanted to do was curl up in the bed and go to sleep.

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Today’s fun hasn’t ended yet.”

“Ugh,” I covered my face with my hands, “how are you always so…chipper?”

“I have a lot to be happy about,” he kissed my cheek. “There’s no point in wasting time on being sad or miserable when there are so many amazing things you can be doing instead.”

“At least let me put on some mascara and eyeliner,” I pleaded. Thankfully I was dressed in shorts and a tank top. If I had already put on pajamas, no amount of pleading on his part would have gotten me to agree to leave.

“Fine,” he said as I stood. “But make it snappy, woman,” he smacked my butt.

“Trace!” I groaned. “Honestly,” I shook my head back and forth as I squatted on the floor to search through my duffel bag for my makeup case.

“What? You have a nice ass. My hands can’t control themselves.” He held his hands in the air, smiling like an innocent little boy. But we both knew he was far from innocent.

“Sure they can’t,” I rolled my eyes, heading for the dingy little bathroom. I put some mascara and eyeliner on, like I said I would, and then fluffed my damp hair. It still looked like crap so I ended up pulling it into a side bun and securing it with a ponytail holder. It still wasn’t great, but it was better than nothing.

“I’m ready—are you wearing a fedora?” I stopped in my tracks, staring at Trace like he’d grown three heads.

“I am,” he took it off doing some kind of fancy trick with it on his hand before replacing it. “I think I look mighty sexy in it.”

“You say that about everything,” I laughed because it was true. “I have to admit you look pretty hot though. Did you steal that from Luca?”

Trace stretched his legs out on the bed and crossed his arms behind his head. “Yes, yes I did, and you better not tell him or he’ll kill me for stealing one of his beloved hats. He has about—”

“He has as many fedoras and vests as you have plaid shirts and ripped jeans,” I interrupted.

“Exactly,” he nodded, “so he shouldn’t notice.”

“He’s probably already called the police,” I laughed, tying the laces of my converse sneakers.

“What can I say? I like to live dangerously,” he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. “Ready?”

I nodded, curious as to what he had up his sleeve, but I knew better than to ask. Besides, surprises could be fun. Sometimes.

He got in the car and we drove a few miles away from the motel, parking outside a bar.

“A bar? Really, Trace? No. Just no,” I shook my head. A bar was definitely not my scene. True, I was twenty-two and legal to drink, but I didn’t enjoy contending with annoying drunk people. I had better things I could be doing, like sleeping.

“Calm yourself,” he snorted, “it’s not what you think.”

I pointed to the lit up sign in the window of the establishment. “See that? It says bar. B.A.R.”

“Now’s not the time for your adorable sarcasm. See
that
sign,” he pointed to one above it, nearly smacking me in the face by accident. “It says,
music lounge
. Now untangle your panties from the wad they’re currently bunched in and get that cute ass in there.”

“So demanding,” I sighed, fighting a smile as I opened the car door and stepped outside.

He grabbed his guitar case and we headed inside.

The place was packed with people. I didn’t know how they all managed to fit inside. Trace took my hand, pulling us through the crowd. The walls and bar were covered in a dark wood, and the concrete floor was painted black. Instead of the typical white or yellow light bulbs, they were all blue, giving the space an almost ethereal glow.

Trace found an empty high-top table and snagged it before someone else could.