Finding Olivia (Trace + Olivia #1) (20 page)

c h a p t e r

Sixteen

My mom and I dashed out of the house, quickly loading my car with our meager possessions.

I drove away as fast as I could, not even bothering to look back at the house.

“What if he finds me?”
She kept repeating over and over again.

I took her hand in mine. “Then we’ll
handle him together, mom. Okay?”

She nodded.

I knew she was scared, but I honestly didn’t think he had the guts to try and find her. If she stayed, he would hurt her…probably kill her,
but
he didn’t strike me as the type to hunt her down.

Men like Aaron, didn’t have the guts to chase someone. They liked to control you behind closed doors and act like nothing was wrong
when you were outside them.

We had a long drive ahead of us, but I didn’t mind. I had my mom beside me and I would never let her go back to that man. It was time she found the freedom
, that I had been searching for, and I was pretty sure I had found it in Trace.

★★★

It was late when we crossed the state line into Virginia.

An hour ago, I had called Avery
, and asked her if my mom and I could stay at her parent’s house. She was quick to agree and I was so incredibly thankful that I had a friend like her.

I turned into Meadow Branch, Avery’s neighborhood, and started making the turns she had described.

I found the house and pulled into the driveway beside her red Volkswagen Beetle.

“Mom, we’re here,” I shook her shoulder.

She startled awake. “Huh?”

“We’re at Avery’s house,” I explained, “this is where we’ll stay.”

“Oh,” she rubbed sleepily at her eyes. “She’s your roommate, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And she doesn’t mind?” She asked, surprised.

“No, mom. I called and asked her,” I unbuckled my seatbelt.

The garage door opened and Avery stepped outside. She was dressed in her pajamas and her hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. She waved her hand, for us to come inside.

“Go on ahead mom, I’ll get our stuff,” I sighed.

I watched as she made her way to Avery. She looked so small and broken. I felt responsible for her, even though it should be the other way around.

I carried our suitcases inside and sat them down in the mudroom area that you walked into from the garage.

“I already showed your mom her room,” Avery said from the shadows, startling me. “Your room’s ready too. My parents will be back in time for Christmas, but once they get back, they won’t mind if y’all stay here.”

“Thank you, Avery. I can’t begin to express to you how much this means to me,” I cried softly.

“Hey,” she whispered, hugging me. “I’m happy to help…but what happened?”

“I can’t talk about it
right now. I’m sorry,” I sobbed, covering my face with my hands.

“It’s okay,” she rubbed my back. “I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready
. It was something with your dad, though, wasn’t it?” She questioned.

I nodded; she didn’t need more of an answer than that.

“He’s worse than what you told me, isn’t he? Did he hurt you, Livie?” She pulled away, looking me over.

My whole body was sore and I knew my arm would be bruised come morning.

“In more ways than what you’re thinking,” I whispered.

“Oh, Olivia,” she hugged me again. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this.”

I hugged her back, tightly, thankful again, and definitely not for the last time, that I had a friend like Avery. She could say crude things and get on my nerves sometimes, but at the end of the day, she had my back and I had hers. If that wasn’t friendship, I didn’t know what was.

She released me, wiping at her tear-streaked face. “Let me show you your room.”

I followed her through the massive house and up a sweeping staircase.

“This is my room,” she pointed to an open door. “Don’t hesitate to wake me up if you need anything or just a shoulder to cry on,” she smiled lightly. Opening a closed door at the end of the hall, she announced, “This is your room.”

It was a large, nicely decorated, guestroom. The walls were painted a light brown color with carpeted floors in a similar shade. The bed coverings were all white and the furniture was black.

“You’re probably going to want to sleep in
, so I should warn you, my brother Nick will be here tomorrow. Don’t be surprised if you see a guy walking around in his boxers, scratching his balls, it’s normal.”

I laughed. I could always count on Avery to make a serious situation not so dark.

“Thank you again,” I told her.

“Not a problem. I’m going back to bed,” she padded down the hall and into her room. “See you in morning,” she chimed and closed the door.

I knew I should grab my suitcase, and try to go to sleep, but I didn’t want to.

I wanted Trace.

I wanted to tell him everything.

I wanted him to make me forget.

★★★

I found myself running up the steps
, leading to Trace’s loft apartment, and banging on his door.

I kept knocking and knocking. I started to question whether he was even there and then I began to worry, what if he
was
here but otherwise occupied?

Trace would never do that to you
.

The door opened underneath my banging fist
, and I tumbled inside, captured by warm strong arms.

“Whoa,” he steadied me. “O
livia, what are you doing here? I thought you were in New Hampshire.” He gazed down at me and the intensity in his eyes caused me to shiver. I saw worry there too, swirling in the green depths. He knew something bad had to have happened to send me running here.

“I just…I needed you,” I whispered. “I have to tell someone. I have to.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he crooned, wrapping me into his arms when I began to cry.

He swept my legs out from under me and
we settled on the couch.

“What happened?” He wiped away my tears with his large thumbs.

“So much,” I croaked.

For the first time, I noticed that he was
practically naked, wearing only a pair of plaid boxers. At any other time, I would have snorted.
Of course he wears plaid boxers.

“Tell me what happened,” he pleaded, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

The whole thing, everything that happened in the past forty-eight hours, and what had happened years ago, spilled from my mouth. I didn’t hold anything back. Memories I had long ago suppressed bubbled to the surface, and I told those too, like the time we were in the park and my dad—er—Aaron, pushed me off the swing, claiming I fell on my own and I ended up with cuts on my hands and knees.

There was another time, when he was teaching me to ride a bike, where he purposely let go of me so that I fell into a ditch full of large rocks.

As I grew older, he switched to solely using the verbal abuse on me, but in the back of my mind, I remembered walking in on him beating my mother.

So many years and so much abuse. I had been able to block a lot of it, but I was sure my mother
hadn’t been able to do the same. She had to remember everything, and I wondered how she made it through each day, without crumbling to pieces. I guess she was stronger than I thought.

Trace didn’t say he was sorry, he
simply held me, and that’s all I wanted.

To feel safe.

★★★

Sometime later
, I pulled away from his embrace. He looked me over carefully with those inquisitive green eyes.

“Thank you, for telling me,” he murmured, “
and for trusting me. I know it was hard for you to tell me.” He played with my braid and his tongue flicked out to moisten his lips.

“I’m so lucky I met you,” I whispered, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Flat tires come in handy sometimes,” he chuckled as his lips brushed against the top of my head.

“Mhmm,” I murmured and
kissed his bare chest.

“Olivia,” he warned.

“Trace,” I smiled at his tone and kissed a spot on his collarbone.

“What are you doing?” He asked as one of my hands roamed over
his chest.

“I think…” I leaned up and kissed his neck, “…it’s called seducing.” I draped one of my legs across
his and sat on his lap so I faced him. I placed my hands on his stomach, just above his boxers, and then moved them up slowly. They lingered on his chest, then wound around the back of his neck, and settled on his ears.

He squished his eyes closed. “It’s working. Then again, you don’t have to seduce me.”

I rubbed my fingers down the back of his ears. “Don’t make me beg,” I whispered.

His hands came up to grip my waist. “Olivia,” he said as if pained, “don’t do this to me.”

“I want you,” I sat back on his lap, staring into his eyes; trying to get him to
see
that I needed him.

His hands tightened on my waist. “I want this to
be perfect with you,” he murmured fiercely. “I don’t want this…sadness, clinging to you. I want it to be only about you and me. No one else. I don’t want you to use me to erase your pain.”

“I’m not,” I kissed his chin.
“This is about no one else, but you and me, and the fact that I want you in every way.”

“Olivia, I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you,” he pulled me against his hard length, “don’t make this any harder on me.”

I grinned. “I don’t think you
can
get any harder.”

He groaned. “You’re really trying to kill me.”

“Ah, but what a pleasant death it would be,” I ran a finger from the indent of his collarbone, straight down, hooking it into the edge of his boxers.

His hand closed around mine. He swallowed thickly. “
It’s too soon, Olivia. But I want to, so bad.”

“Then don’t hold back,” I coaxed. “I’m ready.”

His hands flexed against my waist as I watched an internal battle rage across his face.

I was about
to resort to begging, but before I could open my mouth, his lips were on mine as he resigned to the inevitable.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, as I pressed against him, closer, closer
,
closer
. I knew I wouldn’t be close enough until our bodies had melded together, and even that, I was sure, wouldn’t be close enough.

He pulled back and lifted my sweatshirt off of my head, throwing it
to a far corner of the room. My long sleeved t-shirt quickly followed and I was left in only my bra and jeans.

He kneaded my breasts through the thin cups
of my bra before undoing the clasps and tossing it as well.

He pulled me against him so that we were chest to chest. I
felt his heart racing as quickly as mine and I was pleased to know I wasn’t the only one affected by this. I wasn’t naïve; I knew Trace had loads of experience in this department.

“You can still tell me to stop,” he panted breathlessly.

“I’m not asking you to,” I ran a finger along the curve of his jawline, “and I
won’t
ask you to.”

“Okay,” he whispered, standing. M
y legs wrapped around his waist and he held me tightly against him, his hands clasped below my butt. “I’ve got you,” he assured, nudging his bedroom door open further, and laying me down on the mattress. The covers were pushed down to the bottom of his bed from his haste to answer the door when I arrived.

He stood, gazing down at me
, and I blushed shyly as he scrutinized my body. I was still wearing my jeans, but the way he looked at me, made me feel as if I was bare everywhere else.

“You’re beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” he crooned.

He leaned down and I closed my eyes, expecting to feel the light pressure of his lips meeting mine. Instead, I felt a slight tug, and the ponytail holder holding my braid in place, came undone. He fanned my hair around my head and appraised his work. “You’re absolutely breathtaking, Olivia,” he whispered.

I reached for his arm and felt the muscle flex at my touch.

“I’m getting lonely down here,” I pulled him slightly closer and he moved the rest of the way.

“I can’t have you getting lonely, can I?” He grinned. He scooted me up the bed until I lay in the center and covered my body with his. His fingers rubbed against my jean-clad center and I arched against his touch. He popped the button with deft fingers and eased the
zipper down. My breathing accelerated.

My only experience with sex
had been nothing like this.

That time had been clumsy and fast while this was slow and intimate.