intense pain. It's pure agony. I let out a soft sob as it seems to intensify. If anything, it's getting worse, and nausea is beginning to build within me.
I'm forced to look up when Trace's hands cover my own. He forcefully lifts my head up so that he can peer at me with commanding eyes. “Look at me. Don't concentrate on the pain.”
My eyes close as my body stiffens within his arms. I can't ignore the stabbing agony in my temples... It's impossible. I feel sick to my stomach, and I know I’m on the verge of puking. Either that, or I’m going to pass out from the mind numbing pain.
Suddenly, Trace's lips come down on mine. The warmth of them seeps into my cool lips, and I feel myself go completely still as I try to figure out if he's really kissing me or not. Or have I receded into a pain-filled haze, and now I'm imagining things to get through the worst pain I've ever experienced in my life? Whether it's a fantasy or not, I can't help but get lost in it. His tongue teases the seam of my lips, and I promptly open up for him. I like that he's the one kissing me. I allow him full control as he explores my mouth. He takes his time, teasing me here and there as his tongue twists and flicks along mine, urging me to respond. He's a really good kisser. Much better than Brad. I can feel myself relaxing into him, and when the kiss ends, I'm more than a little disappointed.
“Livvy?”
I lift heavy eyelids to meet gray eyes. “Did you just kiss me?” I ask faintly as my tongue nips out, and I lick my lower lip. I can still taste him. Tonight he tastes of something sharp and salty, as if he’d just eaten not too long ago.
“Yes. How's the pain?”
I'm amazed to find that that pain has receded. Now, I'm left with a dull ache in my temples, but at least I can still function with the lighter headache.
“Better?” Trace asks as he brushes some of my hair away from my forehead.
I nod, feeling oddly drained. It's weird, but I feel like I could just curl up in his arms and go to sleep. I can feel myself doing just that as I seem to wilt against him, my cheek settling against his shoulder.
“Give me your keys. I'll drive you home.”
“Purse,” I mumble.
He keeps an arm around me and uses his free hand to open my purse and dig around. “You should always have your keys out and ready the second you leave the building,” he admonishes lightly.
I want to tell him to save his lectures for another day, but I'm too tired.
A second later, he's pulling me carefully to my feet, and I find that I'm a bit unsteady. Trace tucks me into his side and walks me to the passenger side of my car. He helps me climb in and secures the seatbelt next to my hip. The second I sink back into the seat, I feel my eyes drift shut.
***
I wake abruptly.
After blinking a few times, I look around my darkened room with confusion. Something seems...off. Like I should be remembering something. Something important. That's when I remember the horrendous headache in the parking lot at Sinfully Yours.
Trace had been there.
The memory has me sitting straight up in bed. I'm not in my usual sleepwear, and I peer down at myself. My curtains hadn't been pulled for the night, so moonlight streams in through the large windows, allowing me to see clearly. I'm still wearing the outfit I'd worn to work. My feet are bare, so someone had taken off my shoes. Had it been Trace? Or Khristos? I don't even remember coming home. I'd passed out almost as soon as my head hit the headrest in the car.
I note that my head still aches, but it's minor compared to earlier. There's also questions building up like crazy. Like how had Trace known my headache would ease if I was distracted? Had the kiss been real? Wait a minute, what was he doing in the parking lot in the first place? He shouldn't have been there unless...
Trace is the one who's been following me. He was at the diner after I'd met with Sheffield, he just happened to be around when those guys had cornered me at the club, and now he'd been there tonight when I'd needed help. Why