CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT TRACE #2
Her whole body came apart when she crested, and I waited, holding off until she rode out the waves.
Once she was down, I picked her back up, moved, and pushed her against a wall.
Her back was to it, her legs wrapped tight around my back, and she was hugging me around my neck.
Her front was fully against mine, and I could feel her breasts crushed against my chest. It was the best position.
I loved how this one felt, and I groaned, nipping her throat as I pistoned into her, my hands holding both of her ass cheeks until I wanted to get my handprints tatted there.
My own climax ripped through me, and I groaned, feeling my release going through my body too.
It was then that I realized how truly fucked I was, because I would never get this with another woman. No one could make me taste heaven three different times.
I growled, knowing she would hate me after this, and feeling so damned frustrated at the same time because I understood. I got it. I just needed her more.
She let me hold her for another minute before her hands came up to my chest and she shoved me off of her. She dropped down, glaring at me, totally naked. I glanced around, not remembering pulling her leggings off, but she didn’t care.
“What the fuck, Tristian?”
“Trace,” I snapped back.
“What?”
I leaned over her. “I just rode you hard. Goddamn use the name I don’t hate. To you, my name is Trace.”
She backed off, just a little, both physically and emotionally. I saw her take a step back and felt the distance coming back between us. In another minute, I’d feel as if I’d never left my vehicle. She was putting the walls between us, and fast.
“What are you doing here, Trace?” Wariness flashed in her eyes before she began grabbing her clothes.
I righted my own, pulling my shirt back down and drawing up my boxer briefs and pants.
My coat ... I looked around for it, finding it tossed on the floor some distance away.
Going, plucking it up, I held it and watched as she found her bra and began clipping it back on.
She’d already grabbed her leggings and had them back on.
She lifted her head, a flash of irritation flaring at me from her gaze. “Are you going to answer me?”
She was rattled. It was the only reason why she wasn’t thinking about where I had found her and why she wasn’t demanding to know how I knew she’d be there.
I rolled my shoulders back, throwing up another distraction right now. “There’s a development with your aunt. I thought you might want to know.”
Concern flared next, and she straightened up from finishing dressing, the hand going through her hair falling back to her side. “What is it?”
“They’re in Canada. She’s been set up. A small house. Enough money to get her started. I’ve got her in touch with a program that helps women like her disappear from men like her husband.”
“Okay ...”
“The drawback is that once the program takes over, my family won’t know where she is anymore. They’re not particularly open to working with people like my family.”
“So why did they?”
“I approached them, explained her situation. They were willing to step in for her but to hide her from us. Before we pull back, I need to know that’s what you want.”
“Yes.” The word rushed out of her, her eyes lighting up. “Yes. That’d be amazing. What’s the name of these people?”
“The 411 Network.”
She stepped back from surprise. “They exist? I thought that was just myth or something.”
I gave a hard nod. “They exist.”
Relief softened her face; her shoulders slackened, too, and then a soft chuckle. “The irony of them hiding my aunt from your family.”
“I’m to take that you approve of this?”
“Yes. I didn’t know they existed, but I’ve heard of them. I’ve wished they would exist, and finding this out now, I feel a lot better. They truly will be hidden then.” She frowned. “How were you able to approach them?”
My gut twisted. “I’d recently worked with them regarding two other individuals. It made them more amenable to me.”
“Two others?”
“I can’t tell you, and it’s not because I don’t want to. It has to do with my family.”
She locked down as I said that, which I knew she would. That was the deal with us. She was law, and I was half and half. I feared the day I would become mostly not .
My whole body locked up as well because I heard what else she wasn’t saying. “They truly will be hidden then.” Even from me. She’d have no more ties to me.
“Thank you, Trace.”
I looked up, surprised at the genuineness in her voice.
But her eyes were flashing hard again. “But I meant it. Stay away from me.”
“You still work for me.”
She had started to turn away but froze before turning back again. “You want me to quit?”
I snorted, shaking my head. “Right. Do you want to quit?”
I was calling her on it, because she wanted this fucking thing between us as much as I did. I, at least, was being honest about it. Maybe if we both gave in, this fucking need would leave.
Her eyes flashed, and she knew what I was calling her on.
“This.” She motioned between the two of us. Her eyes hardening. “It has to stop. My job gives me purpose in life, and you’re eroding that. I can’t change what I’ve already done, but this can’t happen again. It does and I’ll quit Katya. I don’t want to, but I will if I need to.”
She was pulling out every intestine inside of me, one at a time, a slow tug each inch.
But fuck that. I wasn’t going to say the words she wanted to hear.
I started to leave, but I needed to see one more thing.
I hit the light switch by the door, and the entire room lit up.
I saw the painting.
It was me.