Finding Olivia (Trace + Olivia #1) (27 page)

He appraised his handy work
, and before I could come back with something snappy, he covered my mouth with his, sucking the crumbs away.

My body responded and my mouth opened underneath his. I felt his tongue nudge its way inside and I welcomed it. He growled low in his throat and released my hands so his fingers delved into my hair.

I grasped his ears in my hands, forcing him closer to me.

“Olivia,” he gasped my name.

“Don’t stop,” I begged, clutching at his shirt.

He nodded
, and sat up, hooking his thumbs through the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He tossed it behind him and then covered my body once more with his.

My hands skated over the smooth hard muscles of his chest
, and his hands skimmed under my shirt.

He sat up, pulling me with him, and in record time
, my shirt was off.

“That’s better,” he grinned and kneaded my breasts.

I moaned his name and pressed my face into the crook of his neck.

I hugged my arms around his chest and kissed the edge of his chin. “Bed,” I gasped breathlessly.

He stood, and grabbed my hand, leading me into his bedroom. He ripped the covers back and they pooled on the floor.

He sat on the edge of the bed and yanked his boots off. I used the doorway for support and removed my shoes as well.

I felt his eyes gliding over my body but I refused to blush.

“Come here,” he crooned huskily.

I stepped quietly across the room until I stood in front of him. He hooked his index fingers in each side of my jeans and tugged until I was straddling him.

“That’s better,” he grinned and then kissed me.

The taste of cookies still lingered but Trace’s own unique taste was more prominent. Our hands were everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He sucked at a spot on my neck and I cried out.

“Please,” I begged. The ache that only he
created inside me was growing stronger by the second. I needed him to fill me.

“Not yet,” he whispered, ghosting his lips along my collarbone.
I shivered in response, and clung to his shoulders, my knees on either side of his hips.

He kissed over
the curves of my breasts and then released the snap holding my bra in place.

I lifted my arms from his shoulders and let the bra fall away.

He gently palmed them in his hands, and little mewling sounds escaped my lips, as I rubbed my hips against his. I felt his hardness pressing against me, and knew he was more than ready, but he insisted on taking it slow.

“Olivia,” he warned, placing a kiss on my lips.

“I want you,” I pleaded.

“I know,” he whispered. “I want you too.”

“Then, please-”

“Not yet,” he repeated.

What was he waiting for? Did he want me to come in my pants? If that was the case, I was pretty close.

He gripped my hips and pushed me off so that I was standing in front of him once more.

I cried out in protest, but he stood, and silenced the noises I was making with another kiss.

He pulled his lips away and dropped to his knees. With a quick flick of his fingers
, the button of my jeans popped, and he slid the zipper down slowly. He gazed up at me and placed a kiss on my stomach, then removed my jeans, kissing each part of my legs the fabric exposed.

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 graspe
d 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 to
ok 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.”

c h a p t e r

Twenty Three

“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 you
r 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.

I dried my body with one of the fluffy gray towels
, and dried the ends of my hair as well, then redressed in what I was wearing earlier.

Avery was raising her hand for another round of knocking when I opened the door.

“’Bout time,” she smirked. She grabbed my hand and pulled me back into the bedroom. “Sit,” she pointed to the bed.

I grumbled but did as she said.

She turned a blow dryer on and grabbed one of those huge round brushes with the spiky bristles. I cringed. Those things always hurt like hell when they touched your scalp.

Avery used the blow dryer to aid in straightening my hair
but since it couldn’t get rid of all my natural waves, she ended up having to use a flat iron as well.

Once each strand of hair was straightened to perfection, she brushed it through, and started my makeup.

“I’m going for a dramatic look here, so don’t freak out,” she warned.

“Telling me
not
to freak out, instantly makes me freak out,” I grumbled.

“Just go to your happy place, Livie. Think of rainbows, and butterflies, and unicorns…and,” she grinned wickedly, “fun times with Trace.”

“I hate you so much right now,” I frowned.

“You won’t hate me when you look so hot that Trace comes in his pants when he sees you,” she chortled.

“Filter yourself, Avery.
Filter
.”

“Eh,” she shrugged, rummaging through her ginormous makeup bag, “I think not. I prefer to say what I want to say, when I want to say it. Now close your eyes,” she warned.

I whimpered, glaring at the makeup brush in her hand. “What color are you using?”

“It’s plum, chillax. It matches your dress.”

I closed my eyes and kept my mouth shut while she worked.

She finished my eyes and patted a light layer of concealer on my face. I felt her swipe a streak of blush across my cheeks and prayed that I didn’t look like a clown.

“Pucker up,” she warned and I felt lipstick touch my lips. She wiped the excess off and said, “Open your eyes.”

She held a mirror in front of me and I gasped in surprise at my reflection. I looked like an actress ready for her red carp
et appearance. My hair and make-up was flawless. All I was missing was the dress.

“Wow,” I gasped. “I look-”

“Drop dead gorgeous,” Avery inserted. “I think I should’ve been a cosmetologist.”

“I-I-” I stuttered.

“I’m still waiting for a, ‘thank you, Avery,’” she smirked, with a hand on her hip.

“Thank you, Avery,” I replied mechanically, fingering my straight hair.

“You’re welcome,” she did a little twirl and began gathering up her stuff. “Oh! I almost forgot. Wanna see your dress?”

I nodded.

Grinning, she unzipped the garment bag. I watched with wide eyes as she pulled out the most beautiful dress I had ever seen.

It was floor-length with cap sleeves and the rich plum color was beautiful. It cinched in at the waist
, with jeweled detailing, that surprisingly, didn’t take away from the beauty.

“That’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen,” I gasped. “Is it yours?”

She nodded. “I got it for an event I had to attend with my parents. I only wore it once.”

I fingered the silky fabric. When it moved
, it shimmered in the light.

“Are you sure I can wear it?” I asked.

“Of course,” she laughed.

The door to the apartment opened and Trace called out.

“We’re in here!” I hollered.

He appeared in the doorway and his eyes widened when he saw me. “You look beautiful, Olivia.”

“You haven’t seen her in the dress yet,” Avery smirked.

Trace stalked forward and wrapped a hand around my waist. “I don’t think the dress will make a difference,” he replied. “I still think you’re the most beautiful, with no makeup, and walking around my apartment in my shirts,” he whispered in my ear.

I blushed and he moved to kiss me, but was cut off by Avery stepping between us, and pushing his chest.

“Nuh uh! I’m not let
ting you ruin all my hard work!” She warned.

“Alright, alright,” he grumbled. “I need to get ready anyway.”

He moved around Avery and opened his closet door. He pulled out a tux and started for the door.

“I’m guessing you didn’t rent that,” I laughed and he stopped in the doorway.

“No,” he chuckled. “This is mine.”

“You go to these fancy parties all time, don’t you?” I questioned.

“Maybe,” he winked and left the room. A moment later, I heard the bathroom door close.

“What time is it?” I asked Avery.

She glanced at her phone. “Six o’clock.”

I guffawed. “You mean, you’ve been playing beauty stylist all day
, and I didn’t even notice?”

“Um, yeah,” she smirked. “I’ve got major skills.”

My stomach rumbled with the reminder that I hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch or dinner.

I headed for the kitchen and Avery trailed behind me.

I opened the refrigerator and a freakin’ monkey jumped on my back.

“Avery,” I groaned, trying to dislodge her. “Get off.”

“No! Not a morsel of food shall pass through your lips and ruin my creation!” She tightened her hold on my neck.

Dear Lord, the girl was going to choke
me.

“Ave-” I reached up and tried to pry her arms from my neck.
“Let go,” I gasped.

“Never!”

“You’re choking me,” I gurgled, digging my fingernails into her arms.

“Sorry,” she loosened her hold but still didn’t let go.

“Avery, I’m
hungry!
Let me eat something! You’ll only have to fix my lipstick!” I pleaded.

“Fine,” she dropped to the ground. “Eat. Ruin all my hard work. See how much I care,” she pouted, sticking her nose in the air.

“Thanks for caring that I’m hungry, Avery,” I mumbled.

“I’m sorry,” she frowned. “I’m being really insensitive.”

“Ya think?” I raised a brow incredulously.

She grew quiet while I made a bowl of cereal.

I sat down on the couch with my bowl of Fruity Pebbles, and Avery sat beside me, chatting excitedly about her plans for the night with Luca. I tuned her out when she mentioned an edible bra and panties.

I finished my cereal
, and cleaned the bowl, reluctantly letting Avery drag me into the bedroom to get in the dress.

She pulled it out of the bag
, and I stripped out of my clothes, letting her help me into it. She zipped it in the back and appraised me.

“Looking good, girl,” she turned around and grabbed a pair of black heels off the bed. “But these will make you a showstopper.”

I sat down on the bed and slipped the shoes on.

“Oh, yeah,” Avery nodded. “My work here is complete.” She hugged me and stepped back. “I feel so proud,” she pretended to wipe away a tear. “Oh, and here’s a clutch,” she grabbed a sequined black clutch out of her never-ending bag of supplies.
The girl thought of everything.

The bathroom door opened
, and a moment later, Trace stepped inside the bedroom.

We both stood staring at one another.

Trace looked impeccable in his smooth black tux. His hair was brushed back from his eyes and his normally stubbled cheeks were shaved clean. He looked nothing like the scruffy fun loving mechanic I was used to, and looked exactly like the billionaire grandson he was.

“I thought you were beautiful before, but damn…that dress,” he shook his head.

“Thanks,” I squeaked, still shocked by his transformation. “You look good too.”

You look good too? That’s the best you could come up with, Olivia. You’re pathetic.

“I mean-”

He chuckled. “I know.”

“Come here,” Avery grabbed us both by the elbows and forced us side by side so she could evaluate us together. She tapped her index finger against her lips and smiled. “You two make one sexy couple.”