Trace - Part Two Read online

  I whimper the moment I feel him pushing me onto my stomach. I groan when I feel his large body curving over mine and I hold my breath as he slides his long, thick, sheathed cock into me.

  "You're everything I've ever wanted," he says hoarsely. "I've never wanted anyone like this. It's never been like this."

  I push back with my hips. "Fuck me, Garrett. Just fuck me."

  He rocks his hard body into mine, each thrust deeper than the last. I grip the sheets in my hands, tensing with each small burst of pain that comes when he pushes hard. "Your body is incredible. You're perfect."

  "You are…" I murmur into the pillow as I try to control my breathing.

  He fucks me slowly, his grunts taking over the silence in the room. "I'm going to come so hard."

  I cry out when I feel his hand slide from my hip to my core. I fall into my own climax the moment his finger touches my clit.

  "Goddammit," he says gruffly as he pulls on my hips, pushing my body onto his cock with each deep thrust.

  I hold tightly to the sheets as he skillfully grinds his body into mine. I feel the lush head as it pushes deeper and deeper and I know the moment he tenses that he's about to find his own release.

  "Jesus, Vanessa," he says softly as he holds onto my waist before his body shakes as he comes in a series of deep, powerful thrusts.

  I push back, wanting to feel every tremor from his body within my own.

  "I need you." He leans forward to brush his lips over the back of my neck.

  I shove my face into the pillow, not wanting to show him that I'm starting to need him to. It's more than what he can draw from my body in moments like this. I'm getting attached to him. Garrett Ryan is starting to feel like home to me, and I can't let that happen.

  Chapter 7

  "Ben told me that you haven't been to visit your mother in a few days." He clasps the cufflink he just put on into place. "Do you want me to go with you to see her?"

  It's much too personal an offer. At any other moment in my life, I'd jump at the chance to take a man I'm feeling so many things for, to see my mother. I'm not ready for that yet. I can't do it. "Thank you for offering but I'll probably just stop by there today. I have the day off."

  He studies my expression in the mirror. I've just pulled my hair into a messy bun on my head. I'm wearing the same clothes that I was last night when he took me for dinner. The only difference is that my ripped panties are somewhere caught within the linens of his bed.

  "What else are you doing today?" He picks up the other cufflink from where he rested it on the bathroom counter. "Do you have any fun plans?"

  If meeting with Zoe's friend, the lawyer, falls into the category of fun plans, I'm going to have an amazing day. "No fun plans."

  "You can meet me for lunch." He tips his chin towards my reflection in the mirror. "We can even meet back here."

  I can't contain the smile I feel. "If we meet back here, we'll end up back in your bed."

  "You wouldn't mind that one bit, Vanessa."

  I blush. I don't want to, but I can't control it. He's right. I wouldn't mind it at all. When I'm with him I feel more wanted than I ever have in my life. He woke me up this morning with a few soft licks of his tongue over my cleft. Before I could react, he scooped my ass into his palms and ate me to another climax.

  "You're being arrogant again." I point my finger at him in the mirror. "You know I don't like that."

  "It's one of the reasons you're so crazy about me." He moves forward, his arms circling my shoulders. "You like me exactly the way I am."

  I do. I dip my chin toward the floor to hide my reaction to his words. "I don't think I can make lunch. I have a meeting today."

  "A meeting?" He reaches forward to cup his hand around my chin, pulling my face back up. "Who do you have a meeting with?"

  "No one you know," I throw back with a smile. "It's just about some loose ends I need to tie up."

  "Loose ends?" His brow furrows. "Why do I get the feeling you have secrets?"

  The question catches me off guard enough that I reach for the counter for stability. "We all have secrets, don't we?"

  His head tilts to the side as he studies my face in the mirror. "I guess we all do. I hope one day we can share them with each other."

  I don't respond. I drop my gaze again as I realize that the closer I get to Garrett Ryan, the harder it's going to be to tell him my secrets.

  ***

  "Tell me how you know Zoe." Imogen Ford motions towards a leather chair in her office. "She's an amazing person, isn't she?"

  I nod as I take in the surroundings. When I'd arrived in the financial district to the offices of Corteck, I never imagined that the woman I'd be meeting would be as striking as she is. She's sophisticated, charismatic and from the nameplate on her door, she's the head legal counsel at one of the biggest tech firms in the country.

  "We're friends," I offer as I take a seat. "We met when Zoe was volunteering at the extended care center my mother lives in."

  "I'm not surprised to hear that." She reaches to hold her tailored skirt in place as she sits across from me. "She has a good heart."

  I like that she sees Zoe through the same eyes that I do. "Zoe said that you're an attorney."

  "I am. This isn't exactly where I thought I'd end up when I went to law school." She laughs as she looks around her office. "I started off as junior attorney here and now I'm primary legal counsel for the company and its owner."

  The owner she's referring to is Clive Parker. He's not only one of the most gifted minds in tech development; he's also the cousin of Zoe's husband, Beck. When my best friend explained to me that she'd been coming down to Corteck once a week to meet with Imogen, I felt an immediate connection to her. She's been offering her time and mentorship to Zoe for months, all the while expecting nothing in return.

  "Zoe told me all about how much you've been helping her." I feel the need to thank her myself. I know how much it means to Zoe to pursue her lifelong dream of being a criminal defense attorney. The passion in her voice is palpable when she talks about how she'll do the very best work she can for her future clients.

  "I admire her." She glides her hand over the arm of her chair. "She is going to be a great lawyer."

  I scratch my finger over my eyebrow. I had rehearsed in my mind everything I wanted to ask this woman and now that I'm sitting in the same room with her, I suddenly feel as though I can't find a place to start that will make any sense.

  "Vanessa." She taps me lightly on my knee. "Zoe explained to me that you're dealing with a delicate situation."

  I nod as I look at her face. "It's very complicated. I don't know that I need a lawyer though. Zoe just thought it might be good for me to ask your advice."

  "I'm here to help." She swings both her arms into the air in front of her. "You're Zoe's best friend, which means I want to do what I can."

  I bite my bottom lip. "Can we keep this between the two of us?"

  "You have my word." Her mouth thins. "Whatever you tell me won't leave this office."

  I draw in a heavy breath, look directly at her face and take the plunge. "My birth name is Charlotte Tomlin. I was kidnapped when I was an infant."

  Chapter 8

  It's true what they say about lawyers. Apparently, it's even true when the lawyer in question has just heard a dramatic confession. Imogen didn't have any discernable reaction when I confessed that I was abducted almost a quarter of a century ago.

  "I just found out," I continue. "It was just a few days ago when I found out."

  Her eyes scan my face. Her lips part slightly before they close again. I watch her shoulders move as she swallows hard. "How did you find that out?"

  I heave a sigh once I hear her speak. "I found some newspaper clippings in some of my mother's things…I mean, the woman who raised me. I went to a storage locker that she kept and found the clippings."

  "They were newspaper articles related to the abduction?" She reaches towards her desk, scooping a note
pad and pen into her hand. "You don't mind if I take a few notes, do you?"

  "Notes? What for?" I blurt out without any thought.

  "Solely for my own reference," she says quietly. "I'll admit this wasn't what I expected when Zoe asked me to meet with you."

  It wasn't what I expected either when I went to the storage locker in Maine. "You won't show the notes to anyone?"

  "Vanessa." I hear the faint sound of a crack in her voice. "I want to keep everything clear. That's why I'm taking notes."

  I rub my hand over my forehead. I need to trust in Zoe's judgment. She's the one studying to be a lawyer. If she thinks that this woman can help me, I need to believe that she will too. "I understand."

  "You found newspaper clippings of the abduction in your mother's storage locker," she starts before she pauses. "Is that all that you're basing your assumption on?"

  I'm not offended by the question, even though I might have been if I knew Imogen better than I do. It's natural for her to ask me something like that. She only knows me through a shared connection with Zoe. "No, there's more to it than that."

  "What else is there?"

  "I always knew that I was adopted." I tap my foot against the carpeted floor. "I mean, my mother, Rowena, never hid the fact that I wasn't her child at birth."

  "Did she tell you that you were adopted?" She jots something down on the notepad without looking up.

  "She did," I confirm. "I'd ask her about my birth parents, but she was reluctant to share anything."

  Her head darts up along with her brow. "Did you wonder why she was like that?"

  I'm not an idiot. I don't want this woman, or anyone for that matter, to think that I am. There's no possible way I could have known the lengths that my mother went to all those years ago. I can't begin to comprehend the desperation that a person has to feel to do what she did. I know that she did it because there was a frantic yearning inside of her that she couldn't quiet. She took me from my stroller in the park that day to fill an empty hole within her. It was wrong, there's no denying that.

  "My mother has always been secretive," I say quietly. "I understand more now why she was that way."

  She stares at me for a moment before she pulls her gaze back down to the notepad. "Have you confronted your mother with the clippings? Have you shown them to her and demanded an answer?"

  It's the one thing I've been wishing I could do since I found the tattered suitcase in her storage locker. I want my mother to have a brief moment of lucidity so she can explain to me what happened. I know that's not going to happen. I have to find my way through the maze of my past alone.

  "My mother has advanced Alzheimer's. She's not in a position to offer any explanations."

  The pity is there in her expression almost instantaneously. I'm accustomed to it even if I don't welcome it. "I'm sorry to hear that, Vanessa."

  "My mother also had a safety deposit box." I want the conversation to move forward. Getting caught up in a lengthy discussion about my mother's prognosis won't help me at this point. She's lost to me. I accepted that fact a long time ago.

  "Was there something in there?" She moves the pen across the paper, writing something in handwriting.

  "Her journal was in there and some jewelry."

  "Does she make an admission in the journal?" She stops writing to look at me directly. "Did she confess, in writing, to the abduction?"

  "No." I shake my head from side-to-side slowly. "It's mostly just thoughts she shared about wanting to be a mother."

  I can't judge from her expression whether she believes me or not. "What about the jewelry? Does it have any significance?"

  I rest my hand over the front pocket of my jeans where I'd pushed the bracelet before I came to Imogen's office. "One of the pieces of jewelry was a bracelet. It's the bracelet that the Tomlin baby had when she was taken."

  "You mean the bracelet that you had when you were stolen from your mother?"

  I absorb each of the words, realizing for the first time, how heavy they feel. "Yes. I had it when Rowena Meyer took me away from my mother."

  Chapter 9

  "I thought you'd come by my office today."

  I smile the moment I hear his voice behind me. I had texted him to meet me at Easton Pub for a drink once he was done for the day. I'm still feeling shaky after my discussion with Imogen, and although I know Garrett would love it if I invited myself back to his apartment, tonight I just want to sit and talk, even if I'm not sure what I'll say to him.

  "My meeting took longer than I thought it would." It's not completely untrue. I had been in Imogen's office for more than two hours while we scanned the Internet together looking at archived articles surrounding the events of that day in the park when I was taken from the stroller. She had explained the possible ramifications of going to the police. She wanted me to weigh the pros and the cons and she assured me, that given my mother's current state, there was virtually no chance that she'd be carted off to federal prison.

  Once I left Corteck, I'd taken the subway into Brooklyn before I sat on a bench outside the extended care center. I didn't have the strength to go inside to face my mother. I haven't been able to do that since I discovered what she'd done. After sitting there for what felt like hours, I got back on the subway and made my way here.

  I watch him as he sits next to me. The end of his patterned tie is sticking out of his jacket pocket and his hair is a disheveled mess. He looks as rumpled on the outside as I feel on the inside.

  "You look like hell." I lean forward to run my hand through his hair. "Did you have a bad day?"

  "Tell me about your day first." He pulls my hand into his, running his lips against my palm. "What did you do today? How did your meeting go?"

  He asks the questions with the same comfortable ease of any man who cares for a woman. I know that he's feeling things for me that reach beyond the scope of what happens when we're wrapped around one another in his bed. The way he holds my hand and looks at me tells me that.

  "I didn’t do a lot." I stumble with what to add. "I met with one of Zoe's friends and then I went to Brooklyn."

  "You saw your mother." It's not a question, it's an assumption. "I keep forgetting to ask you about the day you came by the townhouse. You never did tell me what that was about."

  I take a long sip of the club soda I'd ordered when I first arrived thirty minutes ago. I have to work tomorrow, so anything stronger is off limits for me tonight. As much as I want to break the promise I made to myself not to drink when I have a shift the next day, I honor it, because I know that in the state I'm in, one drink may turn to two or more.

  Garrett asks the server about her day before he orders a beer. I don’t interrupt, grateful that her presence is giving me a momentary escape from the looming discussion we're going to have to inevitably have about why I was at Francesca's house. I take another heavy swallow of the club soda as she walks away.

  "I know it can't be easy dealing with a parent who has Alzheimer's." He inches the stool he's sitting on closer to me. "You came to my client's house because you found something in that storage locker in Maine, didn’t you?"

  I study his face. His features are strong and chiseled. He's handsome, but there's more to his appearance than that. He's confident and magnetic. I'm drawn to him more and more each time I see him.

  "Was there something in the locker that would give you more power over your mother's affairs?" He looks directly into my eyes. "If you found anything like that, I just need to see it and we can move forward from there."

  I know all of my mother's secrets now and ironically I feel as though she's stripped any power I've had away from me. She stole my chance to see my birth mother before her death. She took away my opportunity to have a sustainable and loving relationship with my sister. There's no power left for me to have at this point.

  The server stops by with Garrett's beer and a question about whether he comes in often. I give the woman props for trying to pick him up right in front of me. I
should interject so she's clear that I'm with him, but as I watch him try to disengage from the conversation with her, I glance down at my smartphone to an incoming text message from Imogen Ford. They are four short words that complicate my life even more than it already is.

  Chapter 10

  "I thought you'd spend the night with me." Garrett brings the beer glass to his lips before he finishes what's left. "I want you to come home with me."

  If I hadn't gotten that text message from Imogen, I may have taken him up on his offer, but I feel as though I'm floating in a sea of nothing right now. I can't crawl back into bed with him tonight. I have to talk to Imogen. I need to understand the gravity of the can of worms I opened up when I went to talk to her today. She promised me, when I left her office, that she wouldn't share what I'd confessed to her with anyone. Now, I'm not certain whether I should have trusted her in the first place.

  I lean forward to kiss him deeply, relishing in the taste of his breath mixed with the beer still lingering on his lips. "I would love to, but I have an early morning shift."

  "So you'll come with me, we'll make love and then you'll fall asleep in my arms." He kisses me again, his tongue running over my bottom lip. "I'll get up when you do and ride with you in a taxi to the hospital before I go back home to get ready for work."

  I touch his lips with my fingers. It's so tempting. I want the world to fall away so that I can enjoy everything that he's offering to me. I wish he had walked into my life a year ago. I would have fallen into his bed and into his arms and I would never have let go. "I should go home. I need to go home."

  "You're sure?" He kisses my neck. "You don't want me to rip your clothes off so I can devour your body?"

  My breath catches in my chest. It's not the words that stall my heart. It's the touch of his lips against my skin and his hands on my thighs.

  "I would hold you all night, Vanessa." I can sense the smile on his lips as he whispers into my ear. "I'll chase all the bad things away."