Storm Ravaged (Storm Damages 2) (Storm Legacy) (10 page)

Insecure about my baby belly, small though it might be, I fidget while he takes me in. Does he still find me attractive? Obviously, his hard erection thinks so, but I want to see that look in his eyes, the one that says ‘I can’t wait to fuck you silly.’

His eyes take on the hue of a darkening storm. “You’re beautiful.”

“Am I?”

He goes for his tie. “You know you are.”

I know no such thing. But if he believes it, who am I to argue with him? Letting go of the breath I’ve been holding, I bat away his hand. “Let me. I want to do this.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Do you, love?”

A wingback chair rests at the corner. Meant to be a reading nook, it now serves as the repository of his clothes after I rid him of his tie, jacket, shirt. The scar from the time he was shot in Honduras blazes in the upper right of his chest, but amazingly he does not have any new scars from the car accident. I know I will find a different story on his leg.

I push him to sit on the bed, bend down to rid him of his textured leather mocs. Some animal donated its skin. “What are these made from?”

“Crocodiles. Venetian crocodiles.” That crooked grin I love so much pops up on his lips.

I laugh as I toss his shoes behind me. “Lift.” Belt, trousers join the pile on the chair. Only his boxer shorts remain. His hard on impressively peeks out from the top. He’s magnificent, as always. And exactly the way I remember him from my dreams.

Lying right alongside him on the bed, I run my hand up his hard pecs, bare except for a blond triangle of hair in the center of his chest. I don’t know how, but he’s even more cut than before. “You’ve been working out.”

“Doctor’s orders.”

“Rehab?”

“Yes.”

My hand roams down his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath. I breathe out a purr of total contentment. I’d dreamed about him, hungered for the taste, the scent of this man for so long, and now he’s here allowing me to enjoy everything that is him. And everything that is him is sheer perfection.

He takes my hand, brings it up to his lips, kisses it. “May I return the favor?”

“Not yet.” I go back to exploring him, twirling his chest hair with my fingers, tweaking a nipple.

He jerks. “Bloody hell. I don’t know how much longer I’ll let you manhandle me, love. I’m all ready hard enough to pound nails.”

“Good things come to those who wait, Storm,” I say with a wicked smile of my own. I roll him over. It’s only then I see the long, angry scar on the back of his calf. I gently run my hand over it. “It must have hurt quite a bit.”

He turns his head to gaze at me. “A fair amount. Yes.” And that’s as much as I’ll get out of him.

“May I touch you now?” he asks.

Since I’m dying to feel his hands on me, I nod and sit back on my heels. “Yes.”

He rises as well. One handed he snaps off my bra, tosses it somewhere in the room. My boobs have grown larger, a result of the pregnancy. He doesn’t seem to mind, but then he wouldn’t remember. His hot gaze roams over me, taking in every inch of my skin, before his hand goes to my panties. I brace for what’s sure to come.

“Lift.” When I comply, he rips them off.

Fully content, I sigh.

He’s not slow to notice. “Like that, do you?”

“Yes.”

A devilish light glints in his eyes. What is he planning to do to me? Much as I did, he pushes me down until I’m lying spread-eagled on the bed.

He kisses me again, his mouth a hot delight to my senses. I missed him so much, missed the spicy man taste of him. And he’s so very good at kissing. He nibbles the corner of my lips, his tongue licks the seam. I open and give him the entrance he seeks. He love bites the tip of my tongue. Heat shoots straight down to my pussy and my legs tremble. If I’m this turned on by a simple kiss, what’s going to happen when he does more?

Those big hands I love so much cup my breasts, weigh and measure them. He licks up the side of one before he curls his tongue over one tip. When he nips it, a shot of heat streaks right to my pussy and I gasp.

“You like that too.”

I cup his cheek. “I like everything you to do to me. You might want to move on, though.” I haven’t done this for a long time, and I’m about to go off. Even though he’s hardly done anything to me. I clutch the sheets and breathe deep in an attempt to calm down.

His mouth travels between the valley of my breasts, down my belly, to my mons.

“Gabriel.” I gasp. How does he know that’s exactly what I want when he doesn’t remember me, remember us?

His clever tongue licks the outside of my pussy, suckles my pearl. Oh, dear, sweet lord. I writhe beneath him, from the pleasure his mouth brings. There’s no way I’m calming down from this.

“You’re exquisite.”

Only he has spoken those words to me, but then he’s the only man I’ve ever allowed to enjoy me this way. I squirm beneath his adroit mouth, his agile fingers, which now are finding their way into my sheath. His touch is electric, but it’s been months of dying with lust for this man. If he doesn’t put his cock in me soon, I will go off like a skyrocket. And I don’t want to do that until he’s deep in me. “Fuck me, Gabriel. Please.”

“Good things come to those who wait.”

Damn. Hoisted by my own petard. “You suck.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I do.”

I breathe in her intoxicating scent, and I grow harder. Like that’s even possible given my hunger for her. I may not remember her, but I remember this feeling. This desperate feeling. No matter how close we are, I can never get enough of her taste, her scent, her.

I wanted to go slow, for her sake, for the baby’s sake. But that’s not what she wants. I insert a finger into her wet pussy. She screams, when I work in a second one. Seems like I worried for nothing. She’s hot and wet and definitely is ready for this.

Her hips jerk, almost dislodging me. I’m forced to hold her down to keep my mouth on her. Her legs tremble, and her sheath ripples around my fingers, both a precursor to orgasm. How could that be? I’ve barely touched her, suckled her, tasted her. But her body doesn’t lie. And I don’t want her to climax until I’m deep inside.

I grip her arse, and with one mad surge, thrust gladly into her. Bloody hell. She feels like heaven itself. Tight, hot, wet. Her cunt ripples, massaging my length. I pull out a smidgen of an inch and slam into her again. We both groan at my effort.

She curls her hand around my head and pulls me down for a kiss, suckling my bottom lip into her mouth, love biting it. “Do that again.”

I grab her arms, hold them over her head. For one second, panic flashes in her eyes.

“Hey, it’s just me.”

“Yes, yes it is.” Her tension eases as she hooks her legs around my hips. “Harder, deeper, Gabriel.”

I grab her arse, pound deep, desperate to please her, please me. Her sheath grips my cock, ripples around me. Her skin’s grown feverishly hot, and the scent of her? Bloody hell. Mindless with passion, with lust, I pump, pump, pump into her. My mouth curls in a rictus of pleasure/pain. Have I ever fucked a woman when it’s been this good? No. Of that, I’m sure.

She comes with a high keening cry. It doesn’t take long for me to follow her.

Sweaty, heart pounding, I collapse on the bed. Careful not to crush her, I hold her tight to me while we both catch our breaths. Her eyes are closed but when she opens them, I swear there are stars there. Stars and a world of love.

She’s mine. No one will take her away. No woman. No man. Not even God.

Chapter 12

______________

Elizabeth

IN THE MORNING, we order breakfast which we eat in bed. I hate the crumbs so he licks them off me. We bathe and make love in the shower. It’s like he can’t get enough of me. Understandable, if he’s only gotten his libido back. Making up for lost time, I guess.

Since we didn’t stop off at my place to get a change of clothing, I put on the same outfit from yesterday. Which he hates.

“Georgetown is only a couple of blocks away. Plenty of shops there for you to buy another outfit.”

“I have enough clothes, Storm. I don’t need more.” I’ve managed to work out a wardrobe which consists of stretchy pants, skirts and roomy blouses and jackets. At some point, I’ll need to spring for maternity clothes, but right now what I have suffices.

“You need a new raincoat. A Burberry. I’m sure we can find a shop that sells one. That flimsy thing you own is a step away from the rubbish bin.”

“It’s served me well for many years.”

He grunts. “Why won’t you accept a gift from me?”

“I have. You paid for the hotel, our meals.”

Fully dressed now in a new bespoke suit, a blue one this time, he’s too yummy for words.

“Will you move to the Cathedral Arms?”

I heave out a breath. He’s like a dog with a bone who won’t let go. I don’t want to move to the apartment. It’s way too big and besides I don’t even know how I’d get from there to work. The nearest subway is quite a walk aways. I’d probably need to take a bus to the metro stop. Nowhere near as convenient as my townhouse which is only a few blocks away. “I thank you for the offer, Gabriel, but I’m fine where I’m at. I love my place.”

“We can move your things, surround you with them.”

“No, thank you. I need to go home now if you don’t mind. I have stuff to do.” A lot of reading for school, laundry, cooking meals for the week.

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”

“No.”

He yanks his cell from his jacket, dials Samuel. In a gruff voice, Storm asks him to bring the car around. We conduct our elevator ride in silence. He’s worried about my security, but I honestly don’t see why I won’t be safe. His mother might belong in a loony bin, but no matter what Gabriel says, I can’t believe she’d put a hit on me. No. He’s using her disappearance as a way to control me and that I won’t have.

In the car, he says, “Samuel will remain behind to watch over you. He’ll drive you to and from work, school. ”

What?
“Gabriel he doesn’t have to do that. I’m fine on my own.”

“I will not give on this, Liz. He’ll hire additional staff to guard you day and night.” He faces the window, dismissing any objections I may have. Well, he’s got another think coming.

“That’s insane. I don’t need any of it.”

“I beg to differ.” He grits out, anger pulsing out of him.

I don’t want discord to come between us, not now when we’ve just reconnected. Maybe if I try to reason with him, he’ll see things my way. “Your mother won’t come after me, Gabriel.”

“After everything she’s done, how can you believe that?”

I hitch a shoulder. “As long as we’re not married or engaged, I don’t pose a threat to her.”

“You’re willing to take that chance? With yourself? With our child?”

“I don’t think I’m taking a chance.”

“There’s nowhere to park, Mr. Storm.” Samuel, over the intercom, interrupting us.

“We’ll get off here then.” Waiting only long enough for Samuel to release the door lock, Gabriel climbs out, helps me disembark. “Go around the block, please, Samuel.”

“Yes, sir.”

He walks me to my door, his steps dragging all the way.

“Goodbye, Gabriel.” I stick out my hand to say goodbye, fighting back the tears.

But he won’t shake hands. “Invite me inside.” He spits out through gritted teeth.

“There’s nothing more to say.”

“There’s plenty to say.”

“Nothing I want to listen to then.”

His skin takes on a ruddy hue. I’ve never seen him this angry. “I’m nothing more than your dirty little secret, aren’t I? The man you fuck when the mood strikes you. That’s the way you played it in the past. Why should you change now?” He harshes out a bitter laugh.

The tears flow and I brush them away. “It’s not like that. I’m not like that.”

“Aren’t you? Aren’t you, Liz? So damn afraid of any commitment. You can’t even commit to your own child. All you could think about is giving it away like some unwanted refuse. And you would have, if I hadn’t come along and demanded custody.”

“I never wanted a child. I never wanted to be a mother.”

“No. You only want your career. And that’s exactly what you’ll get. Five, ten years from now, you’ll be all alone. Living some place by yourself. Maybe you’ll have a cat or a dog. No, not a dog. A dog’s too much of a commitment. But a cat. He practically takes care of himself. When you could have had a family. When you could have had
me
.”

A thug comes out of nowhere, brandishing a knife. Before I know it he’s upon us, cutting my purse from my shoulder, pushing me down. Gabriel lunges for him, but the thief stabs at him, the blade cutting through his jacket, right into his arm. Gabriel hisses with pain. And then the hood flees down the street, disappears into an alley while Storm stands there with a torn jacket, his life’s blood dripping unto the street.

Oh, my God.

“Are you all right?” he asks. With his good hand, he reaches down and helps me to my feet. “Did he hurt you?”