The Devil's Storm

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by Lorelai Watson


  She plopped on a sleek modern couch against the wall, cool and collected. “How long’s a while?”

  Lee took a deep breath and sat next to her. He was nervous; he hoped she couldn’t see it. “Let’s see…a year and a half?”

  “Oh, Lee,” she started, pity dripping in her tone. “Not since Maddie?”

  He shook his head, beginning to wish that he had taken time to go out, hook up with a random chick on Tinder, something. Anything to avoid admitting to Emily that she would be his first since his divorce.

  “I’m kind of honored,” she said, resting her head in his lap.

  Lee shook his head and smiled at her, admiring her pretty face, half shadowed in the darkness. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

  “Maybe you should kiss me instead.”

  They met halfway, Emily rising as he stooped to introduce his lips to hers in a soft first lock. She tasted like the champagne she’d dared to drink in front of him, and it was the closest he’d gotten to alcohol touching his lips in ages. Christ how he’d missed every bit of this. Having a gorgeous woman wrapped up in his arms, kissing, the taste of champagne.

  It felt good to be back from the dead.

  Better than good. Amazing. Extraordinary. Awe-inspiring.

  He wrapped his arms around her and deepened their kiss. It became more fevered with every passing second. He’d thought about it a lot over the past week and he’d always imagined it would be awkward, but they soon fell into a natural rhythm.

  Without a word, Emily stopped and stood. Had she changed her mind already? Lee had to admit, he wouldn’t blame her. This whole partner-swapping thing was kind of messed up. Had Madeleine and Adrian thought the same thing or was he and Emily’s current situation even more ridiculous? Were they doing this out of spite?

  Should he say something?

  Then he decided he didn’t give a damn what either of their motives were. Tomorrow morning they could eat waffles and decide it was a terrible idea. Tonight, he was going to feel alive again.

  “I didn’t say you could get up,” he groused.

  “And I told you that your days of sweet and submissive are over, but obviously you didn’t listen. Sit back and let me do what I want.

  Was it evident that he wanted to melt with that last line? How easily he would have done anything she asked? He wouldn’t dare tell her, though. It was too much fun toying with her.

  “Not a chance,” he said, standing and wrapping his hands around her waist, then slowly down her hips to grip her bottom. She wrapped herself around him - arms around his neck, her legs tight around his waist as their lips met in a torrid lock that washed over them like a wall of flame.

  He slowly walked them to her desk, which was way too small for what was about to transpire, but she’d be fine.

  Lee grasped her hips and lifted her to the edge of the glass-topped desk, her legs still wrapped firmly around him. Moving his lips to her neck, he slipped his hand inside the slit of her dress, moving toward the junction of her legs. He heard her attempt to stifle a moan as his fingers brushed against her warmth, and with barely a movement, he hooked her flimsy underwear and began pulling it down her legs.

  He noted that it was a silky, lace thing. “Sexy,” he growled, eliciting a low laugh from her.

  As she slipped off her heels, he tossed the garment behind him and kneeled down in front of her. He maneuvered the slit in her dress to allow him access, and placed himself between her knees.

  Her scent enveloped him, causing every nerve in his body to react wildly.

  He leaned forward, slipping his tongue over her, then delving inside. Her moans encouraged him, and he looked up to see her leaning back on her arms, a look of ecstasy on her face.

  “Don’t stop now, Mr. Atwood,” she breathed, and he obeyed.

  He touched his lips to her warmth, then moved his tongue inside, searching and caressing. He brought his hand up, and his fingers joined his tongue in finding all the places that made her breath hitch.

  His careful ministrations continued as he felt her body tense.

  With only a few more touches, she had climaxed, her scent growing stronger around him and eliciting an almost animalistic growl.

  He felt her hands on his shoulders, steadying herself as she slid from the desk. Emily pushed him to the floor, his back connecting with the lush carpet. It was his turn for his breath to hitch, as her hands worked at the fastenings of his pants. Each touch against his swollen member was a special form of torture.

  She drew him forth from the prison of cloth. Her hands, soft and warm, threatened to undo him before they had even begun. When her lips touched his tip, he swore he was going to explode right then, and barely reigned himself in. The warm wetness of her mouth was heaven as she enveloped him. Long months of loneliness had almost erased this feeling from his memory.

  He looked down at her, her hair falling around her face as she moved her mouth along his length. Her shoulders gleamed in the low lighting of her office, and he noticed a newly-formed hickey on her neck. He would have to remind her about it.

  All thoughts fled as she took him fully inside her mouth, the tip brushing against, then past, her throat.

  His mind fled, all thoughts other than the feel of him inside her gone. Hips bucking beyond control he grabbed her shoulders. He couldn’t take it anymore, he was going…

  He barely heard her giggle as she pulled away. “Well, Mr. Atwood,” she whispered seductively. “Was that to your liking?”

  He did not look up at her, only smiling at the ceiling as he replied. “We gotta do that again sometime.”

  She laughed again, more fully this time, as he finally found his sanity and stuffed it back into his head. "We can continue this later, back at my house, if you want," she offered.

  He took one more look into her eyes before parting from her and stole one last kiss. "I'd like that," he answered.

  Lee sat up, rearranging himself and buttoning his pants and fastened his belt. Before he stood, he snatched the bit of silk and lace carelessly discarded earlier and stuffed it into his pocket.

  She did not seem to notice anything amiss as he watched her straighten her dress and make sure her hair had not fallen.

  “Well, shall we rejoin the party?”

  “Yes, I believe we shall,” he replied, offering her his elbow to grasp.

  They slipped back into the gala unnoticed and resumed their mandated mingling.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Mom called early this morning.”

  Madeleine took a breath and held it. Adrian was nervous. He obviously had something to tell her, and it wasn’t going to be anything good. They were still in bed, wrapped up in a tangle of sheets and one another, although it was now apparent he’d already gotten up. She must have been so tired she didn’t even notice. They’d gone to bed exhausted the night before. Once Madeleine had learned to cut the sheet metal well enough, Adrian started fiddling with the fastenings for the shutters. He’d even tested it and installed a few on the side of the house before it got too dark to continue working.

  “So…what did she have to say?”

  Adrian propped up on his side and looked down; he already knew what she was thinking. “Stop worrying. It wasn’t a bad conversation.”

  Madeleine wriggled in discomfort. “I wasn't worried.”

  Adrian gave her a dry, skeptical look, and she sighed in response. There were downsides to knowing each other so well. “Tell me about this not-bad conversation.”

  “Well, she called because she was worried about the hurricane, and wanted to know if we’d want to head up to Dad's for a few days. We can beat out all the traffic if worse comes to worst. If we drive up today—”

  Madeleine shot up in bed. “Have you lost your marbles?”

  “I didn’t think it would be a bad idea—”

  “A bad idea? First off, your mother invited us to your father’s house. Does your Dad even know? What if this is some desperate attempt to make her f
amily whole again?”

  “I thought of that, so just in case, I called him.”

  “And?”

  “And, turns out, it was all his idea.”

  Madeleine wasn’t sure how to respond. Richard? Of all the people in the world. He hated her. But, maybe he realized that putting up with her meant having Adrian back in his life. It was a price he was willing to pay for the return of his prodigal son.

  She took a moment to read Adrian’s face, to interpret his thoughts. His hallmark lightheartedness was gone. She could tell it in his eyes before he even smiled, but in that moment it was gone, replaced with anxiousness.

  He wanted to go. He missed his family and wanted this chance to make things right. Adrian deserved that. “Okay. We’ll go.”

  At first, came a mix of confusion and surprise—his mouth falling, brows scrunching, a syllable of something about to come out, but muted. His mouth formed a hard, skeptical line, and his gaze narrowed even more. Instead of saying another word, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and got up to make a spot of breakfast before they’d have to get straight to work on installing the last of the storm shutters. And they’d have to pack. If Adrian wanted to get to Atlanta that night, their work was cut out for them.

  “Are you sure?” he called. Was she sure? Hell no. They had millions of dollars at their fingertips. They could wait out a hurricane anywhere in the world. Why would they drive all the way to Atlanta and stir up even more family drama? Why would she allow Adrian to risk getting himself hurt again? And would Lee be there? Madeleine knew Adrian wasn’t ready to see Lee, especially given the news about him and Emily. She would have to call him, to do whatever it took to keep this initial meeting just between Adrian, Richard and Maggie Beth.

  She turned around and managed a light smile, plans already forming in her mind. “It’ll be good for you.”

  “Hopefully for both of us.”

  There was no possibility it would be good for her, but as long as Adrian was happy, Madeleine would bear it. And if she was reading him correctly, his face was just waiting to break out into a hopeful, satisfied grin. She prayed he didn’t get his heartbroken.

  As soon as she heard the pipes rushing with Adrian’s shower water from the kitchen below, Madeleine took her phone from her pajama pockets as she set about making a pan of fried eggs. She scrolled through her contacts and found Lee’s number, but she hesitated before she hit the dial button. Their last phone call hadn’t ended well, and she wasn’t sure how she would warn Lee to stay away without sounding like a complete harpy. But, if Lee had any respect for her leftover from their marriage, he’d at least be open.

  She took a deep breath and dared to press ‘dial’. And then she waited in utter nerve meltdown until he picked up the phone.

  “Madeleine?”

  He sounded surprised. Of course, he was surprised. Or was he busy? God knew he was always busy. “Hello, Lee,” she quavered.

  “Well, this is a surprise. Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think that you might be busy—”

  He laughed. “It’s a Sunday. I try not to do business on a Sunday anymore. Unless it’s of dire importance.”

  Madeleine felt her eyes widen. “Really? I’m impressed.” In the background, she heard the sharp sounds of register bleeps contrasted with dull customer announcements to the shoppers of the Midtown Atlanta Bed, Bath and Beyond. “Out shopping?” she asked.

  “Needed a waffle-maker.”

  Madeleine snickered. “I know exactly what that waffle maker is for.”

  “Um, waffles?”

  “Morning-after waffles,” she teased. “They’re kinda your specialty. Let me guess, Emily didn’t have a waffle maker?” There was a long pause. “Lee? You still there?”

  “How the hell did you know?” he asked in a tight, high-pitched tone.

  “High Museum Instagram page. You two got more likes on your one picture than the entire exhibit itself. I mean, have you seen the comments? Everyone wants to know if you’re a couple of just really… close.”

  “Fucking Instagram,” he cursed. “I don’t even have Instagram. So I guess Adrian knows.”

  “He does.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Lee demanded.

  “It means he knows, Lee.”

  “I’m sure he had something to say about it.”

  “Of course he did. But that’s not what I called for,” Madeleine said, trying to rein back in the conversation.

  “Well, what did he say?”

  “It doesn’t matter because it’s none of Adrian’s business who you date,” Madeleine returned.

  “I’m not dating her.”

  “So it’s just sex?”

  “Yes. At least last night was. I don’t know. I don’t even think I want a girlfriend now, or maybe ever. Why am I telling you this?” Lee rambled on.

  “Because we were together ten years? Excluding an affair or two, we pretty much told each other everything.”

  “For the record, I hope Adrian was pissed.”

  Madeleine rolled her eyes. “He was mildly pissed. Happy? Can we get to the real reason I called?”

  “Yes, before this conversation gets any more awkward and weird,” Lee hissed. Madeleine heard the cashier greet him and she kept quiet while he paid for a waffle-maker he would use to make another woman waffles. She had expected to feel something negative when Lee moved on — whether it was anger, or disdain for another woman’s sake, or even a spot of jealousy. After all, she imagined it would be difficult to watch another woman pick up the pieces of a man she’d shattered and love him in a way that she couldn’t. That wasn’t how she felt at all. More than anything, she hoped he would be happy.

  “Maddie, still there?” Lee asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

  “Yeah. Look, that hurricane’s expected to make landfall in two days, and your parents want us to wait out the storm at your Dad’s house,” she explained, hoping he would get the point.

  “I see,” Lee returned. “So, if I want to see my ex-wife or my asshole brother, I should head to Dad’s?”

  “Or if you don’t, you should avoid your Dad’s.”

  Lee was quiet for a moment. “Maddie?”

  Something about his tone made her nervous. “Yeah?” she asked, voice starting to shake.

  “Are you happy?”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond. She was happy. But she didn’t want to hurt him either. Lee had already been the target of enough damage.

  “And I want you to be honest,” he added. “Perfectly honest.”

  Madeleine took a steadying breath. “Yes. I’m very happy.”

  “And—” he started, and then Madeleine thought she heard him mutter, “Christ this is gonna hurt… You love Adrian, right? More than anything?”

  Madeleine stopped all functioning as her brain burst into a panic.

  This was stressful, but she suspected he needed her to say it, and this wasn’t a truth she could skate around.

  “Yes.”

  “I assume he will eventually man up and marry you. Please tell me he's at least talking about it.”

  “All the time,” Madeleine murmured. “Lee, why are you asking?”

  “Because I need to know it’s alright to move on. And I can’t do that until I’m confident you’ll be okay.”

  Madeleine knew she would always love him in some capacity, divorced or not. “Lee,” she began, “as happy as I am right now, one thing that would make me even happier is knowing you’re happy, too. I worry about you all the time—whether you’re getting enough sleep, or stressing yourself out, or if you’re out drinking again—”

  “I promise I’m not. I’ve not touched a drop, and I’m healthier now than I was in high school.”

  “I’m glad. It’s a relief. And if you want to move on, whether it’s with Emily or someone else, as long as she’s good to you, I’ll rest easier knowing you’re okay.”

  There was a pause, but when
he spoke up, Madeleine heard the smile in his voice. “You know I will always love you right? Maybe it’s not the same kind of love anymore, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone.”

  Madeleine knew exactly what he meant. Their love for one another was an energy that could change form but never die. It was basic physics. “I feel the same way.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Emily awoke to her phone buzzing on her nightstand. She lay knotted up in her sheets and duvet, wondering why it felt like she’d been to the gym. Struggling against the grip of her own bed linens, Emily felt around for her phone and answered it as soon as she saw her boss, Aaron’s, name flashing on the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Well hello,” he answered in a chipper voice. “How’s our new celebrity?”

  Emily narrowed her eyes and cleared her throat. “Aaron, it’s too early to even try to guess what you’re talking about, so you’re gonna have to explain that one—”

  He laughed. “Early? Babe, it’s noon. Did he wear you out that bad?”

  “Oh my God, is that why I’m so sore?” she whined. “My legs haven’t felt this tight since we went to that stupid Spinsanity class last year.”

  “Lucky girl,” Aaron laughed again. “Sounds like a winner to me.”

  “Lee’s...gifted. We’ll leave it at that.”

  “Well, you and your gifted man-made the front page of the AJC.”

  Emily’s heartbeat picked up the pace. “What?” she asked in a near-frantic tone. “No, no, no—”

  “Relax. You look like you stepped off a runway, and it’s great publicity for the museum for one of our own to be working alongside a prominent business leader.”

  “Because it’s not good publicity for Atwood Technologies. Or Lee,” Emily said, powering through her sore muscles to sit up and detangle herself from the covers. “He’s going to kill me. Or worse, not support anything else at the museum.”

  “Woah, woah, woah. Calm your tits. Why would he be mad?”

  “First, he’s already embarrassed enough about this whole deal with Maddie and Adrian. All this will do is get everyone talking about it again,” she explained as she stood and went to her dresser to throw something on.

 

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