The air falls silent around us, light rain coming down in the light glow of the sun as we stand a few feet apart.
“Trace, please,” I beg. Needing to know what he means. I need him to give me something to go off of.
Finally, I see his shoulders drop, but he keeps his back to me when he answers.
“Your nightmares.” His tone sounds like it’s grounded in sorrow but layered with anger.
I dip my head, confusion breeding in my brain. My nightmares…
And then it hits me.
I look at him, seeing that he’s turned back around and now he’s facing me. His eyes set with a hungry desire, his jaw ticking as he waits for me to put the pieces together.
“You." Something folds in my gut; not quite sure if it’s from feeling indebted to what I’m assuming he’s done or from despising him for infiltrating my mind in an intimate and intrusive way.
But regardless, my heart feels heavy thinking about what he may or may not know about my nightmares. And what he may or may not have done.
“Some nights, when I watch you-” His voice sinks into my veins, stoking a fire created by betrayal and safety to heat me up.
“No,” I interrupt him as he takes a step closer.
“I see you struggle in your sleep.”
I shake my head and take a step back, but he only follows me.
“The only way I know how to help you get out of them is to touch you.”
A tear falls down my face, creating an icy trail where the cold air brushes against my skin. Trace keeps his voice low as we both take another step; me backward and him forward.
“I don’t know what is it you dream of, but I know that it’s torturing you, Olivia, and only I know how to make it all stop.” His words sound sincere, his voice is low and calm. Almost just as I remember it before he showed up here hell-bent on making me suffer for something I seem to be clueless to.
I finally find myself backing into the trunk of a tree, my eyes not leaving his as I watch him stalk inward, closing in on me. Even though his words seem to reflect a brief feeling of peace and understanding, he still seems to carry himself with this unruly demeanor; a relentless attempt to cause me pain and fear.
My breathing pattern quickens as he gets closer, so close I can feel the warmth of his body as it takes over mine. I don’t know what to expect out of him right now. But as he steps up to me, it’s pretty clear that no matter what, he’s still demanding control.
I close my eyes, feeling my whole body react to his presence. So close. So fucking close that it causes everything to expand and shrink all at the same time. Like a flower blooming and withering all in the same moment.
Keeping my eyes closed, I wait patiently for him to do something. I can’t even be sure he’s still in front of me though, as the only thing I can hear is the heavy drumming of my heartbeat.
But then he touches me.
A single finger pressing gently into my temple. I gasp as he slides down and moves behind my ear. As hisfinger rolls down, slowly tracing a trail down, I realize the familiarity of his movements.
My lips part and I open my eyes. I can tell. The intention behind his movement and the intense focus on what he’s doing . . . it’s been him all along.
He looks at me, then down at my mouth before slowly continuing his light touch down to the pulse in my neck. I can’t help the way my body reacts, goosebumps covering my flesh as I feel the dangerous caress of liquid pleasure tangle in my core. But he doesn’t stop, moving down to my collar bone. He takes his time, letting the pad of his index finger press into my skin gently before he moves down.
I exhale heavily, knowing what comes next. And I worry he’ll back out—I really need him to keep touching me right now. It’s the only thing keeping me fucking sane despite how crazy he’s been driving me. And I think he knows that. I sigh with relief when his finger reaches the curve of my breast but I can see how hard he is breathing as he does. I watch his eyes as they follow the trail of his finger. Everything ignites as he flicks his finger against my hard nipple, and he finally brings his eyes to mine.
He does this to me when I’m sleeping, I’m just now imagining all those nights and mornings I woke up to my dreams morphing from terror to feeling aroused. That was all him. He was there. Watching me. Touching me. Protecting me.
He stops his movements to pull at the zipper of my jacket, yanking it down until it’s undone. He moves his hand back into place but this time, pressing his whole palm over my breast.
I let out a moan.
“You like that, baby?” he asks me. His voice is now something so unrecognizable, lust carved into the darkness of his tone, creating another swarm of heat between my thighs. I have to clench them together to quell the ache, but it’s not enough.
I nod with so much greed, biting my lip between my teeth. My head tilts back into the tree behind me as I close my eyes, letting him touch me.
