“Can’t stop,” he ground out as he traced his finger along her wet panties.
“I don’t want you to.” Her flesh burned, her heart racing. “Trace. Trace, please.”
He unclasped her bra, leaving her top in place, and as his hands left her body, she heard his zipper lower. Next came the sound of a condom wrapper being torn open, and she groaned when he cupped her pussy over her panties. Pleading for more, Shae heard him chuckle for the first time in days. Her entire body relaxed at the sound, her sex clenching.
“Hard, Shae,” he said on a gasp. “Hard. Fast.”
Shae moaned, her thighs wobbling when he pushed her panties to one side and circled her clit. Rolling her hips, she panted, liking the feel of his hard body pinning hers. She was wet, so wet. She felt it each time she rocked against him, and when his cock pushed against her, he entered her with ease. “Oh, fuck.”
The walls of her sex stretched to accommodate him, clamping around his erection and holding him tight. Lust surged, every inch of her body tuned in to the man fucking her. His hands were gentle, his thrusts possessive and hungry. His cock pumped hard within her, skin slapping hard against skin. The need to touch him grew, but the man felt so delicious, the dominance so perfect, she refused to move.
Trace grunted, his hand shaking. He lowered himself across her back, and his hips continued to piston as he licked her neck. Her knees buckled. “Easy, babe,” he soothed on a pant. He didn’t calm his pace. In fact, on a moan, he pumped faster.
She gripped the ledge of the window, meeting him thrust for thrust. The room filled with the heavy sound of their breathing and the harsh smack of flesh on flesh. Shae whimpered with each pump of Trace’s hips. His fingers bit into her hips, the flash of pain causing her to blink, though with each push something new began to build within her. The sensation started small, an increasing ball of fire low in her belly. Each roll of her hips added to the burn, also making her need greater, and when Trace moved his fingers to her pussy, she whined. His touch would give her what her body longed for. “Please,” she gasped, her head falling forward when he circled her clit.
The fire within her raged until one hard pump later. That was when she shouted his name as her orgasm burned through her, singeing every cell in its wake. Trace followed her into oblivion, his hips finally slowing as he flopped against her and grunted in her ear. Shae huffed as his weight pressed against her, his damp skin hot against her own.
Stunned into silence, Shae was reluctant to move but her legs and arms had started to tremble. Trace groaned, shifting himself off her. He wrapped his arms around her middle, lowered them down to the floor, and seated her in his lap. Shae tried to regroup, smiling at him when he began to stroke her hair from her face.
“When I offered to show you around I wasn’t expecting . . . this.”
“I’m sorry,” he said a little too gruff. “Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?”
She ached but she wasn’t hurt. She shook her head. “You were very . . . assertive.”
Trace chuckled and began kissing a path along her jaw. “Lucky that you had a poster covering the window, babe. Otherwise everyone on the street would have seen. Hmm, is there a problem with my assertiveness?”
“No. I wouldn’t mind knowing where that came from, though.” He stilled his movements. “When you walked in you seemed so angry.”
“I wasn’t feeling great.” He kissed her temple. “But you fixed that, so we’re good?”
Shae scowled at him, batting her hand away when he moved to cup her face. “No, Trace, I’m not good, I’m confused. You were crazy mad when you came in—I could feel your anger. You haven’t looked at this place and you know it. Talk to me.”
Trace closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall and hitting it three times, although not hard. “I didn’t start this as a confess all kinda thing. And the apartment is great, by the way.”
“Stop changing the subject.”
“I was a jackass. I’m sorry. Something my brother-in-law said annoyed the shit out of me. When I got here it was still eating away.”
Noticing the way he didn’t quite make eye contact with her, Shae decided there was more. “What did he say? Must’ve been bad to put you in that mood.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s gone now. See.” He grinned. “I’m smiling.”
Shoving at his chest, Shae moved off him and began to pull up her leggings. He followed her movements with his eyes as she righted her bra and top.
“However, I’m not smiling anymore.” He stood up, too, and discarded the condom in the trash before straightening his clothes. “I’ve pissed you off. I’ll apologize again.”
“You wouldn’t need to keep apologizing if you’d be honest with me. I’m not asking for hearts, flowers, and candles around the bath.”
“There’s no bath in here. Just a shower.”
Shae rolled her eyes, but had to bite her lip from smiling. “What I’m saying is that I know what’s between us isn’t serious. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk to one another. We can share, Trace. I don’t want to be having sex with a stranger.”
“We’re not strangers.” He stroked his finger along her collarbone. “We know plenty about each other.”
Shae shook her head. “You know so much about me, but whenever I ask—whenever I get too close—you back the hell away, diverting me with sex or another subject. I like you so much, Trace, and yet I ask myself all the time what it is that I like.” He opened his mouth to interrupt. Shae continued. “You have a sister who’s married with a daughter. You work the bar at Metro and you play in a band. Your dad lives out on Barren Island. I also know a bit about Kyran and some about Dale, but that’s where my knowledge ends.”
“You know where I live and which room was the first one I christened.” He winked.
“Damn, Trace! This isn’t funny. I’m trying here, and you’re just making me feel cheap. I don’t get any more from you than I could get from . . . well, from my hand or a fucking vibrator!”
He stalked toward her, his gaze focused solely on hers. She backed up, her pulse starting a rapid tattoo at her wrist. He didn’t touch her—didn’t lay one finger on her—the man simply licked his lips. Slowly.
Shae squeezed her thighs together, a throb emanating between them as well as against her ribcage. Every muscle in her body turned to goo. He could do that with one look, and by the way he arched a brow, Trace Jacks knew it.
“Does your hand make you feel like that?” he asked and lowered his head to kiss her lips. “Does your battery-operated cock have you shouting its name?”
The deep, guttural tone of his voice had her skin pebbling. “It doesn’t have a name.” He kissed her again. “And there you go again trying to distract me. It’s not fair. I bet your friends know all about you.”
“They know enough.”
“So why don’t I? Shit, I know I’m sounding whiny. Trust me, I hate it, but all I’m asking is for you to share a little.”
His shoulders drooped, his hand lifting to tease the ends of her hair. “Sometimes,” he said, “verbalizing things to the people closest to you is the most painful.”
“Does it have something to do with the reason you need out of your apartment? The reason you had it all, then had nothing?”
Trace nodded, the muscle in his jaw flexing, warning her how close to the edge he was. His hand was steady as he continued to toy with her hair, but she felt the difference in the air between them. It left her heart heavy, and she regretted pushing him.
He cleared his throat and linked their fingers. “Come and sit down with me.” He led her out into the room that housed a threadbare couch, a couple of dining room chairs, and a small kitchenette in the corner. Keeping hold of her hand, he sat down, pulling her with him. “I’ll need a new couch.”
Shae nodded, wondering where he was going with the conversation. She shot him a quick glance, nibbling on her bottom lip as she waited. Trace fidgeted a bit before he started drawing lazy figure eights
on her palm. He coughed once and pressed his forehead to hers. “Her name is Tatum. She is the most beautiful girl in the world and has the cutest set of dimples.”
Shae’s heart sank, her stomach clenching tight. He’d said very little about the woman, and yet she’d heard everything she needed to—he loved her. She could tell by the warmth lighting up his eyes and the softness of his voice.
“I felt her move, listened to her heartbeat, and welcomed her into the world. I was the first person that baby saw—the first one to hold her.”
“You have a kid?” Shae asked, feeling better about that prospect than him being in love with another woman.
“No. That’s where it all went wrong. See, Emmie forgot to tell me the kid wasn’t mine. In fact, it was Nix, my bandmate, who decided to let me in on a bit of barroom gossip. Turns out Emmie had been busy with a few guys while she was supposed to be waiting backstage for me. I was dumb. Real fucking dumb.”
Shae hugged him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “No, Trace. You loved her. She should have told you that there was a doubt. It’s no wonder you don’t like talking about it. I’m so sorry for pushing it. I overstepped . . . what we are.”
He kissed her cheek. “I have no clue what we are, babe. My head’s so fucked up with dealing with Tatum and Emmie. I don’t have room in there for analyzing anything else.” He took her face in his hands, making her look at him before he spoke again. “I know that’s shitty of me, Shae. I came here so steamed because Kyran reminded me that Tate isn’t mine. I should have canceled on you. Trouble is you always make me smile when I feel like crap. That’s why I came. I knew it would feel so much better with you around.” He hung his head. “I guess you could say I’ve been using you.”
“I guess I should be hurt. Should I yell at you?”
“I’d be cool with it if you did. It’s a compliment if you think about it.”
Shae slapped his chest. “That line is not going to work for you.” She took a breath. “We need to talk about this—talk about what’s happening here.”
“You’re being the perfect host and showing me around my new apartment. I can honestly say I’ve never had anyone be as personal as you have.”
“I charge extra rent for that,” she said with a grin. “But I’m serious. With you moving in here, I think we have to sort through things. What we have is kind of muddy. We need clarity.”
He snorted. “Funny because my sister said almost the same thing.”
“Then you should listen.”
Shae watched his gaze drop to his lap and the smile fade from his lips. Her throat tightened, the fear of what he was going to say causing her heart to stutter. She’d asked for the conversation. She couldn’t back away now. That didn’t mean she wasn’t apprehensive about what he was going to say.
“Shae, if you’re asking me for more, I can’t give it to you. No way in hell am I opening myself to be wrecked again. I didn’t make it out of the mess with Emmie in one piece.” He cupped her jaw. “I have a feeling that if I allowed you in, you’d tear me to fucking pieces when it went wrong. I’m sorry, babe, but I can’t.”
Chapter 15
Trace braced himself for Shae’s reaction. He had been giving her mixed signals and using her to soothe his own pain.
He wasn’t being cruel about it, reiterating when he could that what flowed between them was fleeting. He thought she understood, but from the look on her face, the sadness in her eyes, she’d begun to hope for more.
He cupped her neck, stroking the column of her throat with his thumb. “Shae, I’d like us to be friends. You’re what I need right now.”
“But nothing more.” It was a statement, not a question.
He shook his head. “Can’t.”
“So you’re planning on being alone forever?”
Trace blinked. “That’s quite a leap.”
Shae pushed at his chest, drawing back until he allowed her to get up off his lap. “It’s not. You’re saying you can’t. You’re saying never.”
“I’m saying I’m bruised.”
She straightened her clothes, looking anywhere but at him. Shit, he was an asshole. “Shae.” He stood up and reached for her, trying a second time when she tugged her arm free. “Shae, please.”
“Please what?” she whispered. “Please let us carry on? Please let us fuck? Or are you concerned about the apartment?”
It wasn’t anger that laced her words. He could deal with anger. What he heard was hurt. Shae wanted them to evolve into something more. Something he couldn’t give her.
“I’m not going to take the apartment from you. I offered it. I don’t go back on my word.”
“Fuck the apartment. I’m concerned about you.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.”
Her green eyes hardened. “You have no idea what I want. You haven’t asked. You’ve assumed.”
Exhaling, Trace opened his arms. “So tell me. Yell, scream . . . tell me I led you on and that I’m a bastard. I get it. I know I am. I should never have carried on this thing between us. I fucked this up by sending you mixed signals.”
Shae leaned back against the far wall, crossing her arms over her chest. “I knew what this was from the start, so don’t take all the blame.”
“I knew there couldn’t be more.”
“And you’d already told me that. Stop being a martyr. This is on me, too. I started to wonder if we could have more. I thought you might change your mind. I was in the dark about what your ex had done, and I can see that would be tough to get over, but I still . . . hoped.”
“I should have stayed away after that first night.” He felt like scum.
“Why then?” she snapped, showing her first flash of anger. “Why not regret that, too? Maybe it would have been better if you’d never have returned to the studio to apologize.”
The thought of that didn’t sit well with him. In fact, it left him feeling sick.
Shoving those thoughts aside, he scrambled for something to say because nothing he came up with seemed right. “I don’t regret us, Shae.”
Pushing off the wall, she swiped at her eyes. “Fine. I’ll leave the key with you, and you can take another look around. When you’re done, bring it down to the studio. I have a class to teach.”
Christ, he despised the coldness from her. He wanted to make a million promises that he couldn’t keep just to see her smile at him. Her smile could change his entire day.
He uttered her name, moving quickly to her and grasping her hand. She closed her eyes, allowing the touch and when she did open her eyes, she stared at his chest.
“Don’t shut down, babe. It’s not you.”
“What do you expect? You pretty much kick me and expect me to be okay with it.”
“No. That’s not what I did. I told you I don’t regret us being together. It’s not you who’s the problem here. It’s me.”
Shae tore herself away from him. “Oh, please! Save me from that particular line.” Huffing she began to walk from the apartment. “I don’t need your pity. Or your fucking joke of a letdown.” She slammed the door to the stairway, the sound of her descending steps reverberating around the room.
He really was an asshole.
Shae focused on her dance class, absorbing herself in the six teenagers in front of her. She’d been teaching them all ballroom and Latin dances for the last few years. At a time when most kids their age were hanging out, the six before her never faltered in their commitment.
Today was a shorter lesson. Shae was checking their routines before the next competition. Thoughts of Trace and their earlier conversation continued to haunt her. She tried to shake it away, tried to concentrate on Martha’s top line, but the memory refused to shift.
She shouldn’t be hurt. She’d known what they were from the start, but the churning in her stomach wouldn’t dissipate. Being with him was something she enjoyed, and with Trace confessing that she gave him what he needed, the seed of hope was planted. He’d done
the same for her. He’d given her a short escape. They’d been good for each other.
Now that part was over.
She would have to get used to seeing Trace around the studio. Another reminder of how they’d helped one another.
Adjusting Martha’s arm, she smiled and checked the girl understood what she was trying to convey. “Make sure your elbow doesn’t dip. And keep your face turned to the left, exposing your neck. If it’s uncomfortable, then the posture is correct.”
Martha corrected her arm and neck, grinning when Shae complimented the alteration.
“Perfect. Keep it like that.”
Shae stepped back, allowing Martha’s partner, Jake, to take her in hold and begin their dance. Martha kept her top line as Shae had asked, so she moved on to her next pairing. However, as she walked over to them, she heard someone clearing his throat near the door. Turning, she stared at Trace, and she hated that her heart gave the tiniest of jumps.
“You’re busy,” he said, stating the obvious. “I just came to ask if it’s okay for me to start moving some stuff? I mean trash and what’s already up there so that I can see the space. Now that I know you’re not going to back out of our agreement.”
Shae walked over to him. “I shouldn’t have been annoyed at you. You never told me we could be anything more than we were.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway. Feel free to start moving.”
He looked over to her students. “How long will you be here? Do you want to get a coffee after?” She was about to shake her head when he continued. “I’d like us to talk, Shae. I don’t want there to be any weirdness.”
This time she did shake her head. “No weirdness. I finish in about forty minutes.”
“What are you teaching?”
Shae turned back to the three couples, analyzing each of their holds. “Ballroom. The waltz for those two. The other two are doing the tango.”
Trace watched them with her, entranced as they flowed across the floor. Each of them muttered their movements to keep up with the individual routines without the aid of music.