Beautifully Damaged (Beautifully Damaged series) by L.A. Fiore (19)

I liked to believe I was in fairly good shape, but Trace made me feel like a sloth during our daily runs. He trained religiously, which seemed to be helping his growing cake pop addiction.

Every day, after our run, Trace took me to Starbucks for my coffee and cake pop. And he never failed to get himself one.

As he ordered, I just stood back so I could watch him. I liked him in sweats: today’s were black and rode low on his hips. His white tee was snug across the muscles of his chest and arms—arms that were flexed from the run. His hair was a bit longer, but still spiky around that arresting face of all angles.

He towered over everyone around him and there was a hardness to him when he interacted with people: not mean, but untouchable. Watching him, I was deeply grateful that he allowed me into his heart.

We stopped at the condiment bar so I could add cream to my coffee and then we stepped out into the beautiful morning. We stopped and looked in a few shop windows, but it was when we passed a window for Chanel that I remembered Vivian and her invitation from a few weeks back.

“Oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Vivian Michaels caught me at campaign headquarters and invited us to dinner.”

I felt Trace tense, but it was only for a moment and when he spoke it sounded more curious than angry. “From what I know of Vivian, Charles tells her to jump and she says how high. My guess is he put her up to that.” He looked at me and grinned. “You know, the whole ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’”

A chill went down my spine and Trace obviously noticed it so he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me up against him. He spoke with quiet conviction when he said, “He won’t touch you.”

I wrapped my arm around him. “It’s not me that I’m worried about.”

His grin was cocky. “I can take care of myself, but I do so like having someone worrying over me.”

“Well, get used to it,” I muttered before changing the subject. “Hey, so tell me, how did you become the owner of Clover?”

I saw the flash of sadness that swept over his features before he pulled it under control.

“My mom had money and my dad liked to spend it and one of the things he spent her inheritance on was a cook. Mrs. Fletcher was a hell of a cook. She could make French, Italian, Greek, and Indian cuisine just as well as she could make comfort food. The house always smelled delicious when she was with us and it was under her watchful eye that I learned how to cook. I developed a real love of food and not just eating it, but also creating and presenting it. I decided, when I got older, to use some of my inheritance to turn my passion into a business.”

My heart ached because I realized that I had unintentionally brought up a subject that was painful to him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I guess you figured out that Mrs. Fletcher didn’t last. It was while she was with us that my dad’s depravity escalated and I’m pretty sure Mrs. Fletcher discovered his dirty little secret. I really thought she was going to take Chelsea and me away—that she was going to help—but one day she just stopped coming to work.”

I absently dropped my cup in a trash can that we passed as I realized something about him. “And all good things come to an end.”

“Exactly.”

“Have you ever looked her up now that you’re older?”

“No, she became one of the angels who saw, heard, and spoke no evil.”

I hated that he endured what he had, that there was no one to help him and he was eventually forced to help himself. But I was thrilled that he was so willing now to talk about his past.

“I wish I had been there to help you,” I said.

“I don’t because he would have hurt you and that would have sent me over the edge. I would have killed him and then we’d have missed out on a lifetime together.”

I buried my face in the crook of his neck and pressed my lips to his throat.

He lifted me with ease and moved us from the sidewalk because we were causing a jam in the flow of pedestrian traffic. He placed me on the ground and pulled away from me so he could look me in the eyes.

“I think I may take Vivian up on her invite, but I hate putting you in that man’s sphere any more than you need to be. Working at his fucking headquarters is bad enough.”

“Please don’t ask me to sit out when you know you wouldn't do the same.”

His smile was tender as he ran his finger along my jaw. “Fair enough. How about we take them to Clover for dinner?”

“Perfect.”

“All right, I’ll send Vivian an e-mail and let her know.” He reached for my hand as we started down the street again. Thinking of Clover made me wonder about his other businesses.

“What are the names of your other restaurants?”

“Just Coq au Vin.”

“You own Coq au Vin?”

“Yes. Why, have you been?”

“No, but I bet it’s fabulous.” Coq au Vin was the most sought-after restaurant in the city with a six-month waiting list. I had always wanted to go, but, outside of the long wait, it was just way too expensive for me.

“Would you have dinner with me there?” he asked.

“Oh. My. God. Yes!”

He chuckled at my very enthusiastic answer as he reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

“When would you like to go?”

“You don’t have to wait?”

“No, I have a table.”

“Oh.” And then the thought of being one of many, just another in the revolving door that was his table at Coq au Vin, dampened my spirits. “It lacks the same appeal when you’ve brought so many others.” He cradled my face in his hands and spoke with quiet sincerity. “I’ve only ever brought Chelsea to Coq au Vin and that night at the benefit at Clover, Heidi was supposed to be a distraction so you wouldn’t realize that I was there to see you.”

I stared like he had grown another head as I tried to process his words. He hadn’t gone home with Heidi that night and for some reason knowing that made me feel really good. But still…

“What about the babe from that first night at Sapphire who you were so thoroughly entertaining?”

He actually paled, which took me completely by surprise, before he said quite seriously, “I watched over you for a long time and in that time I fell a little bit in love with you. I only brought her there because I knew you’d be there. I wanted to see you, but I also wanted to push you away.”

A smile touched his lips when he added, “When I caught you following me I knew that the battle I was fighting to keep you from me was a pointless one.”

“I never bought your image, never believed you were the man you wanted everyone to believe you were. I’d caught a glimpse of the man under that facade and I liked what I saw, a lot.”

“And thank God for that,” he said in a near whisper.

“Why Heidi?”

I knew I’d thrown him with that question when he asked, “What do you mean?”

“You aren’t a repeat dater but you did with her, even using her to try to push me away. Why?”

“I’m not trying to dismiss your question but there’s a lot of shit in my past and trying to explain all of it will only leave you more confused. Can we just leave it at Heidi being a part of my past that I really want to keep in the past? And before you ask, no there was never anything between us but she knows me well enough to feel sympathy toward me and mine. Not that she usually does.”

It was more of an answer than I expected. “Fair enough.”

I wrapped my arms around him and he pulled me close. “I have a confession.” I looked up into his eyes before I continued, “That night at Sapphire, I was fantasizing that it was me you were stroking to climax.”

His voice dipped to a sexy purr when he said, “Any time, absolutely any fucking time.”

“Oh God.”

He pressed his lips to mine for a kiss filled with promise, before he reached for my hand again. It took me a minute to realize he was still answering my original question.

“I also owned Noir, but I recently sold that, since there was another club I wanted, almost irrationally so.”

“Really, which one?”

He smiled before he added, “Sapphire.”

“You own Sapphire?” I stopped walking and turned to him as I remembered our private hour at Sapphire. I punched him affectionately in the stomach as I grinned at him. “You know the owner.”

He laughed as he pulled me closer to him.

“I had to own the place because it’s where I met you.”

I felt myself going all gooey inside and then I realized that I had an answer to a puzzle.

“That’s why you were already at Sapphire that night with Dane.”

“Yes, I was finalizing the deal.”

“Lucky for me, you were there that night.”

“It’s more than luck.” Before I could ask him to explain that comment his mouth fused to mine and seconds later I forgot my question.

Trace dropped me off at home before he headed off to the gym for a few hours. The man was relentless, but I very much appreciated the results of his working-out efforts. I showered, changed into my comfy clothes, and curled up on the sofa with my laptop. My novel was coming along but at a much slower pace. Professor Smythe was helping me, offering direction on story flow and character development. I was in the middle of reworking a scene when Trace came home. Just hearing the key in the lock made my heart rate speed up. I wondered if I’d always feel that involuntary excitement at the thought of seeing him; I suspected I would even when we were old and gray.

“You look comfortable,” he said as he closed and locked the door.

“I am. How was the workout?” I turned in my seat so I could see his face.

“Good, but I am in serious need of a shower.”

“Can I make you anything for lunch?”

He walked over to me, leaned down, and kissed me hard on the mouth before he replied, “No, thanks.”

I watched him disappear down the hall. I tried to work, but my thoughts were on Trace, more specifically Trace naked and wet. I moved down the hall to the bathroom, but, when I pushed the door open, Trace was already out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. “Took you long enough.”

My feet carried me into the bathroom with a mind of their own, stopping only when I was right behind him.

“You’re beautiful,” I said in awe as I pressed my palms to his shoulders and slid them slowly down the hard ridges of muscle on his back. He turned to me, but he made no move to touch me. I wondered about his restraint until I looked up into his eyes to find that they were burning with desire.

“And you? I see only perfection when I look at you,” Trace said.

“No one’s perfect,” I said.

“You’re pretty fucking close.”

“Sweet talker.”

His hands wrapped around my face as his mouth settled over mine. I reached down for his towel and pulled it from his hips. He whispered against my lips, “Touch me.”

My hands wrapped around him as I ran my fingertips up and down the valley of his spine. I felt as his body hummed under my touch as I moved even lower to shape my hands around the hard muscles of his ass. He pressed himself closer to me as my hand found its way to the hard length of him that was pressing against my stomach. He moaned into my mouth but I moved from him, took his hand, and walked to the bedroom.

“On the bed,” I ordered.

My stomach twisted with nerves seeing Trace lying on the bed, completely naked, but I had wanted to be bolder. And more than that I had wanted to show him that I trusted him with everything, including my body. I reached for my shirt and lifted it over my head. Our eyes were locked as my hands moved over my bra-covered breasts, my fingers pulling on my nipples through the fabric. I moved one strap teasingly down my arm before working on the second and then I grabbed both my breasts and squeezed.

My body hummed in anticipation when I saw what I was doing to Trace as he grew hard and thick. I flipped the clasp but held the bra in place for a few heartbeats before I let it fall to the floor. I heard him growl just as my hands slipped under my sweats. I was so swollen and wet, and looking at the part of Trace I wanted touching me pulled a purr from deep in my throat.

My sweats dropped down my legs when I pulled the tie free. I stepped out of my panties and lifted one foot onto the bed. My hands moved up my leg to the juncture of my thighs. My body flushed with desire as I stroked myself. I slipped one then two fingers inside as my hips moved against my hand. Trace wrapped his hand around his erection and started moving it up and down as he watched my fingers with hungry eyes.

“You’re so wet.” His eyes lifted to mine. “You like that.”

“I like you watching me. I like watching you,” I said as my eyes moved to between his legs where he was still stroking himself. “But I like you inside me more.”

“Then come over here.”

I climbed on the bed and straddled him before reaching for his hands to press to my breasts. Very deliberately I lowered myself onto him and felt as my body clenched around him, desperate to take more of him, and then I pulled up, my muscles protesting the emptiness.

“Fuck, Ember. I’m going to come on you in a minute.”

I rubbed against him very lightly, moving up his length as I teased him. He was fully erect and seemed to grow even larger as I played. I moved against the tip of him as I pleasured the pulsing nub between my legs. Trace closed his eyes as if he was in pain. I spread my legs wider and waited a beat before I sank down on him hard.

“Fuck!” tore from Trace’s throat and it was the single most sexy sound that I’d ever heard. I started to move just as Trace’s thumb touched my sensitive bud.

The orgasm started low in my belly. I cried out as Trace’s grip tightened on my hips, moving me harder and faster to prolong my climax. In the next minute I was on my back as Trace took over. His hips were relentless, causing small orgasms to ripple through me, and when he came, he was loud and slightly out of control.

When he was capable of speaking he said in awe, “You’re amazing.”