Chapter 14 #3
I drop my head on his shoulder, giving in to the pressure and release from his fingers on my flesh. He removes the damp towel from my body, tosses it aside, and wraps me fully in his muscular arms. His body runs hot. I really like Trace’s body heat.
“He’s not a bad guy.” I drop kisses along his shoulder.
He tightens his grip on my neck. “I plan on introducing him to this girl who comes into the store only when I’m working.
I was telling Leigh and Shay about her, and they said she hasn’t stopped by while they are on shift.
I’m not sure why she comes around when I’m there.
Shay and Leigh are just as nice and are more than willing to sit with her and listen to her latest book ideas. ”
“Book ideas?”
“Yes, kind of like how I love to paint, she loves to write stories. The latest is about this sexy dude who is also a dragon, and he thinks the heroine is this impish girl with no backbone and who needs rescuing, but instead, he’s captured and needs to be rescued by her. Cool, right?”
He laughs. “Sounds like the two of you should partner up and co-write a kickass romance book.”
“She says it’s romantasy. It’s the latest reading rage, apparently.”
He smiles. “That’s cool, beautiful. What else?”
What else? I’m still hung up on beautiful.
“I like beautiful. It’s better than little mouse,” I admit. My muscles don’t tense up, waiting for his judgment. I’m melting into his arms.
“How about sweet Sorrow?”
I think about it for a few seconds. “I like that too.”
“You’re good with beautiful and sweet Sorrow?”
I give him the truth. “I’m good with any endearment as long as it’s from you, Trace.” I edge away from his neck and glance up at him.
His face softens. I tip mine to him. Trace slants his head and presses his mouth to mine.
Not waiting to find out whether he’ll close his eyes or not, I close mine.
His lips are pillowy soft. There’s peaceful silence around us, and I’m warm.
Warmer than I’ve ever been wrapped up in his big, muscular arms.
I move my mouth from side to side. He is still as a statue, letting me do whatever I want to his mouth.
After the third time of this side-to-side motion, I hold still and let him take the lead.
He presses his mouth full on mine and stays there.
His chest rises and falls against my chest. Is he sniffing me?
I smile. His mouth curves on mine. I’m right.
He was inhaling my scent. I hope I smell nice for him.
I open my eyes. He’s looking at me cross-eyed. With my mouth closed, I laugh. Our mouths are still fused in this kiss that I never thought a sex-crazed boy like Trace Saints would be satisfied with. I expected him to stick his tongue down my throat.
“Best kiss, Sorrow,” he murmurs on my mouth.
“Really?” I’m shocked. The kiss was so chaste. “Why’s that, when there were other kisses?”
“Because I felt it here, beautiful.” He places his palm over his heart.
I could cry. I could skip around the pool in a celebratory dance with my arms high above my head and a cheesy grin. I do something that feels right. I lean in and brush my eyelashes over the crest of Trace’s cheek and rub my nose on his before I give his mouth a quick peck.
“Hmm, I dig those kisses.” He closes his eyes. “More.”
Smiling, my heart pumping fast, and the butterflies fluttering low in my belly, I rub our noses and trail my eyelashes on his face from his forehead to his cheeks and the stubborn jut of his chin, before his lips become my landing spot.
“Did you like that?” I shyly ask him.
“Very much so.” He opens his eyes. Beneath the lights, his eyes are more blue than bluish-green. “Thank you, Sorrow.” His hands clamp on my waist. “Flip around. Sit between my legs.”
I do as he says. We stare at the moon with his arms wrapped around my waist from behind. It’s a clear night, and the stars are out. Will I miss seeing the constellations when I’m in a big city where the lights are so bright I won’t see the stars?
“Trace?”
“Hmm?” He rests his chin on my shoulder.
“Do you and your parents celebrate Christmas?”
“When they’re here.”
“Do they always have to be here for you to celebrate something?”
Then it dawns on me. They weren’t here for Thanksgiving, and Trace donated turkeys to the food bank. They’re not here for Christmas, and Trace paid a lot of money to have the skating rink temporarily set up in the town center for everyone to enjoy.
“The turkey and the skating rink are how you celebrate.” My voice trembles with emotion.
How can he be so selfless? Why can’t he be selfish and ask for what he wants? He does want those things, but there’s no one to enjoy and celebrate with, so instead, he gives to others what he doesn’t have.
I don’t wait for him to speak. The silence is suddenly uncomfortable, and I want to fill it with happy stuff.
“The Grays have this huge Christmas tree with beautiful ornaments on it that they’ve collected over the years from their trips across the US and overseas.
The white lights on it look like a million blinking stars.
Lights are also strung up on their fireplace mantel and along the windowsills.
Mrs. Gray is a great baker. She baked an apple pie from scratch.
We had it for dessert with ice cream. Then Rush took me outside and showed me the lights on the house and on the bushes and trees that looked like Christmas trees near their driveway.
It was like a winter wonderland of lights.
He even turned on a snowmaker machine.” I clasp my hands to my chest and smile big.
“Seeing all the lights, feeling the snowflakes on my face, and hearing how Rush and his dad put the lights up while his mom laughed and cheered made me so happy, Trace.”
“Is that so?” He tucks strands of my hair behind my ear. As he does, his knuckle grazes my flesh. My happiness fades, replaced with this deep desire to lean into his touch and beg him to take away the ache between my legs.
“Yes.”
“Should I teach you a lesson for speaking with too much happiness about a guy other than me, Sorrow?”
“I was talking about his family.” But I can’t deny the thrill that goes through me, wondering what he’ll do so I’ll never forget his lesson. “What will you do?” I ask, out of breath.
“Shower, get in your PJs, no bra or underwear, and wait for me under the covers.”
My heartbeat is loud in my ears. My body trembles from head to toe.
I’m dizzy hearing his request that I not wear a bra or underwear.
Unseating myself from between his legs, I stumble to my feet.
Distancing myself from his body heat leaves an empty void inside me.
I hate it. Hate that I like the heat from Trace’s body.
Hate that I am having the feels for him.
I have to compartmentalize the physical from the emotions.
Whatever Trace has in mind for this lesson of his, I’ll do what he does, what he suggested I do.
I’ll lock down my feelings as soon as he starts with the physical.
He plans on doing the same, doesn’t he? Or will he catch feelings on purpose so he can break his promise and have to kiss Phoebe in front of me?
It would be a jerk move.
Is Trace Saints, who donated turkeys to the food bank and who paid for a skating rink for others to enjoy because his parents aren’t here to celebrate Christmas with him, capable of being that manipulative?
I heave a sigh.
If he is, it’ll be the biggest lesson of my life. Never trust a smooth-talking, funny, and handsome boy with a sexy smirk and a big, selfless heart ever again.