A Trace of Love Read online

  Trace continued to massage and suckle her clit. At the same time, he pumped his arm, slowly at first, but then increasing in speed. Ophelia dug her fingernails into the mattress, moaning until she came once, twice, a third time. Trace kept on going. Ophelia trembled under his every touch, almost to the point she thought she might explode. She shuddered so much, she had to gather all her strength just to reach down and pull his face up.

  “Trace…I need you inside me.”

  He kissed her thigh, his lips glossed over with moisture. “Not yet, trust me.”

  When Ophelia came the fourth time, her eyes rolled back, her torso lifted off the bed, and her hips trembled in overwhelming pleasure. When Trace released her, she fell against the bed and tried to catch her breath. Little spasms continued to ripple through her core, aftershocks reminding her body of the pleasure it felt.

  Trace lay by her side, patiently waiting for her to collect herself. He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Do you still want me inside you?”

  Ophelia faced him, wide-eyed, chest still heaving. “Oh yes.”

  He chucked then pulled the covers up and positioned his body over hers. She felt the burning heat of his flesh poke against her tummy. She reached down and stroked it. Her breath caught in her throat. It was even bigger now than when she’d pulled it out of his boxers. Ophelia tried to prepare herself by relaxing her muscles, but she just didn’t think it was possible.

  Trace didn’t try to force himself. He kissed her neck and gently messaged her breasts until all the tension melted away, replaced by a familiar warm tingle. Trace pushed his sex inside her a little bit at a time until, finally, she somehow stretched enough to take in all of him. He pulled out and this time, his entire length slick with her moisture, he drove all of it into her core at once. Ophelia gasped, feeling the most heavenly pain a woman could ever know. He filled her completely, the connection whole, perfect, like two puzzle pieces meant to fit together. She dug her fingernails into his back, drawing blood, but he never flinched.

  Somehow, it wasn’t enough. Ophelia wanted more, wanted him deeper. She mumbled her request in his ear. He lifted her into his thick, capable arms, crawled to the head of the bed, and rose to his knees. Her back pressed against the cold headboard. He hooked one arm under her knee and pulled her leg up until her toes pointed to the ceiling. He pumped hard; making sure every inch of himself entered her body with each thrust.

  Soon their skin dripped with sweat, gleamed silver in the moonlight filtering through the window. Ophelia and Trace had sex until the sun rose. At some point, Trace took Ophelia’s hand and held it against his chest, directly above his heart. He fell asleep, holding her hand there.

  But Ophelia couldn’t rest. At some point while they were supposed to be having casual sex, Ophelia fell in love with Trace Curtis. She knew it. She recognized it. But she couldn’t allow it.

  What did she expect him to do, stay in the city with her? Have a real relationship? Marry her? She wasn’t a teenager and this wasn’t a daydream. Hell, she hadn’t had sex with Mathew, her old crush, who was oblivious to her existence. She had sex with Trace Curtis, international rock star. She just slept with a man who was used to sleeping with groupies every night. No, Trace Curtis would get on his tour bus, go to the next venue, perform another show, and have sex with another woman. There would always be an endless supply of willing ladies for Trace Curtis, even if there was never another man for Ophelia. Trace would easily forget about her.

  With a heavy heart, Ophelia slid her hand out of his and gently left the bed. She dressed quickly, in silence. She grabbed her shoes and tiptoed out of the hotel room, away from Trace.

  * * * *

  When Trace awoke later that day, he was shocked to find himself alone in the room. He cursed. Of course she would assume it was a one-night stand. He hadn’t asked her for a phone number or anything to suggest otherwise.

  He didn’t mean to have sex with her. He only wanted to get know her, to understand the strange attraction that pulled him to her. But when they kissed, his heart melted and suddenly he couldn’t get enough. Even when he was deep inside her core, nothing he did felt sufficient.

  He’d shared his bed with plenty of women in the past, but none of them made him feel the way she did; that sweet, frail girl whose voice rung when she laughed, whose skin smelled like honeydew melon. An urge rose from his chest, one so overwhelming it suffocated him. He wanted to be with her always. He wanted to hold her close and protect her, to be the only one to touch her, to love her.

  Love?

  Yes, that was it. Trace loved her. The realization sent his hand clawing at his chest. He had to find her. In a panic, he dressed and flew out of the hotel room. He almost forgot to check-out at the desk. Once outside, he realized he didn’t know where to begin looking for her. It drove him crazy that he couldn’t remember where he recognized her from. Hell, he didn’t even know her name. Great, Trace. This is just great.

  His only hope was The House of Blues, where they’d met. He flagged down a taxi and was back at the venue in less than five minutes. The front entrance was closed, but he knew they’d let him in the back door. Inside, the sound check crew tuned the instruments and the bartender wiped down beer mugs with a cloth.

  Trace rushed to the old man. “Have you seen the girl who left with me last night?”

  The bartender shook his head. “Ophelia usually doesn’t get here ‘till late.”

  “Ophelia?” Trace could almost taste her name as it rolled off his tongue. Ophelia. He was certain he knew that name from somewhere. “Do you know where she lives?”

  The bartender shook his head. “I don’t know anything about her, except she’s my best customer; comes in every night.”

  Trace nodded and thanked God Molten Silk had one more show before they left the city. He could wait for her to come to him.

  * * * *

  That night, Trace sat alone at the bar in the very back of The House of Blues. The concert was long over. The instruments were stowed away in the tour bus where his band mates waited.

  During the show, Trace spent every second scanning the crowd for Ophelia. Every time he thought he saw her, it turned out to be someone else; a groupie flashing him, or guy trying to high-five him. The later it got the more panic set in his chest until Trace had to face the truth. She hadn’t come back.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Curtis, but we have to lock up for the night,” said the venue’s bouncer. Trace nodded and rose from his seat. He walked to the door, his movements stiff, robotic. Outside, the chill in the air froze his heart. He’d lost her.

  He started toward the bus and was almost inside when he heard a voice.

  “Trace?”

  A smile inched across his face. He turned and there she was, standing in the shadows just inside an alley. He jogged over and stood before her, but he didn’t know what to say or do after that. Hug her? Kiss her? Shake her hand? He wet his lips. “Ophelia.”

  She glanced at him, her eyes wide and dazzling in the dimness. “You know my name?”

  “I asked the bartender.”

  “Oh.”

  Trace ran his fingers through his hair. He really wanted to tangle them in hers. “Listen, Ophelia—”

  “I almost didn’t come here tonight,” she blurted out. “But…I couldn’t stay away.” She glanced at her hands. “God, this must sound so stupid to you.”

  Trace scowled. She thought coming back to him was stupid? She really had no idea what kind of effect she had on him. He cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers. Her lips were so soft and warm. The yearning to hold her tighter, kiss her harder, retuned with a force that left him weak in the knees.

  * * * *

  Tears welled up in Ophelia’s eyes and threatened to spill. She pushed Trace away, but he held her tighter. His expression turned guarded. “Ophelia, what’s wrong?”

  “Trace, please. I only came here to say good-bye. It didn’t feel right, walking out on you at the hotel.”
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  His lips pressed into a thin line as he searched her face. “What do you mean ‘good-bye’? Where are you going?”

  Was he joking? She gestured to the tour bus behind him. “You are the one who’s leaving.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the bus and then wet his lips. “No, I’m not. I won’t. Not without you.”

  She shook her head, not understanding. “You’re…not leaving the city?”

  He took a deep breath and held her hands a little too tight. “I can’t. I thought I lost you, Ophelia. But I won’t make that mistake again.”

  The bus’ horn sounded followed by shouts from his band mates. Clearly he was supposed to be leaving. “I don’t understand. Your band—”

  “Damn it, Ophelia, forget the band. I love you.” His eyes widened and he whispered, “I love you,” as if he couldn’t believe he said it the first time.

  This was a nightmare. Ophelia knew she’d regret coming here. Trace only made this harder. She shouldn’t have slept with him. She shouldn’t have left the bar with him. She shouldn’t have spoken to him. Now she would have to be the bad guy and push him away, no matter how much it hurt. “What are you going to do, quit the band? Stay in the city with me?”

  “You could come with me.”

  She scoffed. “Typical male, assuming the woman will make all the sacrifices. I have a life, Trace. My home is here in the city. Your life is on that bus.”

  Trace scanned the ground between them as though he could find answers on the grimy sidewalk. “I can stay here, with you.”

  “No, Trace. You don’t know me at all. If you throw away your life for one night of sex—”

  “It wasn’t just sex for me, Ophelia, it was…” he shouted, but stopped himself and lowered his voice. “It was more than that. From the moment I saw you, something was different.” He wet his lips and looked her in eyes. “I know you feel the same way about me.”

  Ophelia glanced away. “No. I don’t.”

  “I don’t believe you. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel anything for me.”

  Tears flowed down her cheeks. She took a deep breath, drew all the courage she could, and faced the man she loved. She had to do this for him. She owed him that much. “Trace, I don’t have any feelings for you. It was just sex.”

  He scowled and his hands dropped to his sides. Nodding, he turned his back to her and walked toward the bus. Ophelia hugged herself and started walking in the opposite direction.

  “Wait!”

  Ophelia glanced over her shoulder as Trace jogged to catch up. “I only went to the bus to get my cell phone.”

  Exasperated, Ophelia wiped the tears from her cheeks and scolded. “I thought I told you to—”

  “Ophelia, you’re a horrible liar,” he grinned. “I just want your number, okay?”

  “My number?”

  Trace nodded. “I get it. You think this can’t be real because we’ve only just met. But I refuse to lose you knowing that you do have feelings for me, even if you won’t admit it to yourself. So…I’ll call you from the road. We’ll get to know each other.”

  “You don’t give up, do you?” she murmured.

  He held out his phone. “I won’t lose you again, Ophelia. I promise you that.”

  She took it and punched in her number. Trace hit a few more keys, to save the number and then stashed the phone in his coat’s breast pocket. “I’ll keep you with me always.”

  Ophelia managed a weak smile. “Good-bye, Trace Curtis.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll talk to you later, Ophelia.”

  She nodded and continued down the street, away from Trace.

  * * * *

  Molten Silk had only been on the road for three hours, but Trace couldn’t wait. He made sure all the guys were asleep and the door to the cockpit was shut tight. Then he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Ophelia’s number. The click of an automated phone operator sounded on the other end.

  “The number you have dialed has been disconnected. Please hang up and try your call again.”

  Trace stared at the phone, jaw slacked in disbelief. He tensed until he thought every bone in his body would snap. Like the release of a taunt sling shot, he slammed the cell phone against the floor. But it was his heart that shattered.

  Ophelia’s in for a birthday surprise that turns out to be a birthday nightmare as she’s reunited with hunky rock star, Trace Curtis. The pain of her defiance runs deep and he won’t leave Ophelia alone without an explanation. The more time they spend together, the more their passion grows. Ophelia knows in her heart she should tell Trace the truth, but will her secret drive him away? Find out in A TRACE OF PASSION: Part II of A Trace of Love

  About the Author

  Danielle Ravencraft graduated from the International Academy of Design and Technology with a Bachelor Degree in Fine Arts. She currently lives in Wisconsin with her two Pomeranians. Growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, her writing is influenced by the multi-cultural urban society of her youth which she continues to visit each summer.

  Also available at MuseItUp Publishing

  Forever With You

  By LJ Holmes

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-926931-37-1

  Coryne reluctantly hired, for her own peace of mind, the all too handsome Keith Patterson and his crew to build a very special house on her time limits.

  Moving a small camper trailer to the site, Coryne keeps a close eye on the progress. Problem with that is she also is forced to be in close proximity to that very handsome, all too deliciously seductive Keith Patterson.

  Resisting him is a full time job, and one she would have had enough trouble handling, but he made it harder because he let her know he was not at all adverse to the temptation she poses. She must resist...mustn't she?

  Follow Coryne and Keith right to the very surprising ending and Coryne's "Forever With You" moment.

  MuseItUp Publishing

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