Storm

by Mankin, Michelle

  Did my brother know Journey was Storm? I’d thought earlier that he knew Journey’s secret and that he disapproved. Tonight, though, that seemed to have changed. By making himself scarce, Cork was giving our relationship his approval. But beyond that, I didn’t know anything for sure.

  I munched on my sandwich while sneaking peeks at Storm. Unlike the reality show that I couldn’t care less about, I was very interested in him.

  Storm had changed so much since we were kids. He’d grown into his large frame and was taller, more muscular. The thick mustache and beard he now wore covered up much of his face, but even the parts that could be seen were different. There was no boyish softness to his features anymore. He was all honed edges now, not cute at all like he was as a teen, but handsome. Irresistibly so.

  “You can use your cell camera to take a photo of me, you know.”

  He didn’t look away from the television, but even in profile, I could see his eyes dance and his lips quirk. And oh, those lips of his. The color of terra-cotta, they fascinated me still. They fascinated me more, honestly, since I’d experienced how good they felt pressed to mine. A thrill shot through me at the memory, followed by yearning.

  I didn’t want a picture. I wanted action.

  “Sandwich okay?” he asked when I didn’t acknowledge his previous statement. I noted he’d already devoured his.

  Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry for food. I just wanted him to devour me in one ravenous gulp.

  “The sandwich was good,” I said. “Thanks for making it.”

  You’re really good. Even now, even with those honed edges, Storm was gentle and cared for me.

  Did he not see it? What he meant to me?

  Maybe he saw but didn’t believe it. Maybe my words weren’t enough. Maybe all that was needed was time and actions.

  “You told me there were stories associated with your tats, but you never told me one.”

  “Sure, which one would you like to know about?” He glanced at me through his thick lashes, and my stomach fluttered like I was thirteen all over again.

  All of them. I wanted to know about them all and everything about him.

  “The tiger on your abs,” I said. “With its wide-open mouth and sharp teeth.”

  “Ah,” he said, his eyes brightening. “That was one of my first tattoos. When I left home, I was young. I felt lost without . . . well, I wanted to take charge of my life and where I wanted it to go.”

  “The animal itself and the location are symbolic?”

  “Yes. The solar plexus is a chakra that represents self-esteem, willpower, and personal responsibility.”

  “I know,” I said, smiling at the memory. “My father was into Eastern philosophy.”

  Apparently, my dad’s interest had resonated and remained with Storm. Had his affection for me remained too?

  “It also represents pleasure,” he said, his gaze intense with maybe more than merely affection.

  My skin tingled, and so did other parts of me, just from the eye contact. It had been that way since our eyes had first connected in LA.

  “Journey . . .” I breathed out his name longingly, almost calling him by the wrong one.

  I had my best friend back. Maybe not for as long as I wanted, as in forever, but I had him now, and I didn’t want to just sit on the couch and stare at the television. I wanted to be with him.

  Peeking at him through my lashes, I said, “Can we go downstairs to your place?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Giving me a heated look, he took my plate and his to the kitchen. Staring at his tight ass in his board shorts, I swallowed to moisten my dry throat.

  When he returned from the kitchen, I licked my lips. I couldn’t fail to notice that the idea of being with me had a notable effect. His cock was hard and thick, and merely noticing it made desire pool hot and heavy between my legs.

  “Come here, Lotus.”

  He offered me his hand, and without hesitation, I placed mine in his. He tugged, pulling me off the couch and directly into his waiting arms.

  My palms landed on his hard chest. I could feel the incredible heat of him, even through the cotton of his gray tank. He put his large masculine hand over my smaller feminine ones. So many times as a teenager, I’d stared at his hands, imagining him touching me. The reality of it, of him, far surpassed my wildest dreams.

  Clutching both my hands in one of his, he lowered his head. “I have to kiss you now,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I can’t wait any longer.”

  And I didn’t want him to wait.

  His mustache brushed my skin first, making it tingle with anticipation. Then his lips touched mine. I closed my eyes, abandoning myself to the dream. His mouth was urgent on mine, his tongue insistent. When he slipped it between my lips, his breath became my breath, and my breath became his. His body, his scent, he was my everything.

  Breaking the kiss, he stared down at me, looking like a man possessed and at the end of his control.

  “Fucking hell, you are everything I want, everything I need.” He rocked his erection against me. “Can you feel how badly I want you?”

  “Take me downstairs,” I said, feeling bolder than I ever had before. “And I’ll show you how badly I want you.”

  His answer was to sweep me off my feet.

  I twined my arms around Storm’s strong neck, my lips curving as he strode, carrying me like a bride. Only there was no threshold, no commitment—not on his side, not yet. Just passion, but our passion was pure, even with his secret remaining between us.

  Balancing me in one strong arm, he unlocked his door and stepped inside his apartment, then slammed the door shut with one solid kick. He released me, and my body slid slowly down his.

  His chest was solid muscle. His abs were contoured ridges. My hands glided along the slabs of strength on his back. When my toes hit the carpet, his hard cock was exactly where I wanted it to be.

  Almost.

  “I want you. I need you,” I said, giving him his words back. They were my words too, plus a little more. “I’ve got it so bad for you.”

  This time, I rocked against him.

  “Lotus, my Lotus,” he said softly. “I never could have dreamed anyone more wonderful than you.”

  When he lowered his head, his curls—ones I’d never dreamed he’d have when his hair had been shorn short—fell over his eyes. He unlatched one side of my overalls and then the other, flipping the loosened straps over my shoulders. I stepped back to wiggle out of the rest. He groaned like he did the first time when I stood before him in only a tube top and my panties.

  “You . . . I . . .” Storm looked down at me in wonder, unable to finish his thought.

  “Don’t talk.” I plunged my hands into the luxurious waves of his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it and tugging to bring his firm lips back to mine. “Let me show you how I feel.”

  “We’ll show each other,” he said softly against my mouth.

  Grabbing my ass, he pulled me forward. His lips touched mine gently, tenderly, and then he kissed me hard, exploring my mouth deeply.

  The world continued to spin, but it no longer mattered. Nothing mattered but him and me.

  Eventually, he ripped his mouth from mine. Moments or a lifetime later, I didn’t know which, because time had no meaning either. Only him.

  Whimpering a protest at the loss, I cracked open my eyes to peer up at him.

  “Words aren’t enough,” he said gruffly. “We both know what this is. We can feel it.”

  His warm brown eyes aflame, he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder. With a hand on my ass to hold me in place, he walked through the living room, down the other hall, and entered his bedroom.

  I felt every one of his footfalls. His thick shoulder pounded them into my pussy.

  Without speaking, he tossed me onto the bed.

  No time, that toss said, reinforced by his dark glance. I can’t wait another second to have you.

  I sat up. Only sheets covere
d his bed, no bedspread, nothing to get out of the way but our clothing.

  I tossed my hair out of my eyes. His hot gaze on me, I didn’t need his words to know what was on his mind. I felt his need. My nipples hardened. My belly fluttered. My empty pussy ached to be filled with his cock.

  His eyes locked on mine, he reached back between his shoulder blades and removed his tank. I hissed like he had when I’d removed my overalls. His shoulders were wide. His pecs and abs were chiseled with definition. His long legs were sculpted with muscle. He undid the tie on his board shorts. When they slid to the carpet, he stalked toward me without delay.

  I stared up at Storm, intrigued by the changes in his physical appearance that told a story like his tats did. The shoulder-length hair, plus his thick mustache and full beard, meant he refused to conform to his father’s design for him, even in looks.

  The boy and the man were now one, both precious to me.

  I reached for my panties, wanting them gone so his glorious cock could be inside me, but he captured my hands, stopping me.

  Pressing my hands into the mattress above my head, he lowered his gaze. I held my breath, guessing his target. I exhaled it slowly as his teeth pierced the cotton of my panties. A shivery thrill shot through me as he ripped them off with his mouth. In the process, his beard grazed my pussy, my inner thighs, and my legs.

  Panties out of the way, he climbed back over me, and I raced my hands everywhere I could reach. His taut ass. His sculpted back. His skin was warm satin over chiseled steel. As I explored, his muscles leaped to my touch. The pads of my fingers sizzled with an undeniable heat.

  Storm spread my thighs apart and moved between them. Exposed, my pussy pulsed with more wet need. I stared at him, my gaze on fire like I was. I wanted his cock inside me.

  Grabbing the bottom of my tube top, he tugged it down. The cotton scraped my peaked nipples. They tingled, exposed to the cooler room air, then one tip throbbed a moment later within the confines of his wet mouth. He suctioned, and I arched into each deep draw. He released it with a pop and a dark satisfied look. Then he moved to the other one.

  Alternating back and forth between my breasts, he sucked my nipples, then lapped at the throbbing peaks with his wicked tongue. I felt each lash in my pussy. Writhing beneath him, I thrashed my head back and forth on the cool sheets while the rest of me burned hotter and hotter.

  When he lifted his head, his eyes were coal black, the flecks of green nowhere to be seen. I loved that view, his gaze only containing his passion for me. I loved him. Desperately.

  I reached for him, and he grabbed a condom packet, tearing it open before he handed it to me. My eyes filled. He remembered my request, giving me the privilege of rolling it on. Was there any request he wouldn’t grant me? Even his secret he kept safe because I’d asked him to.

  My hands trembled as I positioned the condom and slowly rolled it on. When my task was complete, I lifted my gaze to find his eyes blazing down at me.

  Grabbing me by my hips, he squeezed as he positioned. His grip wasn’t overly hard, but it was tight enough to telegraph an important wordless message that I received.

  He was going to make me his.

  I nodded. I wanted to be his. It was all I wanted.

  More wet urgency rushed to my core as he slowly filled me, and I sighed from the bliss of the connection. It was everything. He was everything to me.

  I lifted my hips as he plunged his hard cock deep inside me. He withdrew slightly, then filled me, and did so again and again, like a chorus to some ancient song. Long strokes, deep ones, everything he did was exactly what I needed.

  Higher and higher, he took me. I didn’t have to strain for my release—he gave it to me—and I cried out as I came. He stiffened and groaned at the same time.

  We tumbled together over the edge. Flying through the ether, burning but not burned. We had each other.

  Our bodies were joined. Our passions aligned. Our desire was in unison.

  Storm

  I WATCHED LOTUS as she slept, her silky hair spread out on my pillow.

  My arm tightened around her. Her naked body, including her amazing tits and tempting pussy, was pressed into me. Her satiny smooth leg was draped over my thigh. I wasn’t in the mood to sleep. I wanted her again. And again.

  But she was tired. She’d shuffled out of the bathroom after cleaning up, stifling a yawn behind her hand. I’d pointed to the bed and told her to get her ass in it . . . and here we were hours later.

  She was sound asleep, and I was wide awake, my cock a pole tenting the sheet. Ignoring the throbbing ache, I mostly stared at the ceiling with a determined crease in my brow.

  I had her, and I was keeping her. No woman, no one else in the world, made me feel the way she did.

  Before Lotus came back into my life, I was a guy who only knew two things—running and avoiding connections. Why would I want to connect with anyone? All the best of everything was Lotus, and I’d left her behind, assuming she would have a better life without me.

  But she hadn’t, and because of her I was back and I never wanted to leave. I couldn’t, wouldn’t leave. So I plotted how to keep her.

  She was the goal. The overarching one. The top priority.

  I needed a plan and steps to achieve my goal.

  Ash would most certainly be part of it. And Cork, of course. The steps, once I set them in motion, would demonstrate to her my commitment and my love. Then I would tell her who I was, and how I’d been conflicted and a coward at the beginning. Surely with proof, she could forgive me.

  Internally, my heart skipped. My mind skidded back to the word. Not because it wasn’t true. I loved her. I knew what love should be because of her.

  When we were kids, I’d loved Lotus as my best friend. I continued to love her as my closest friend, but it went so much deeper than that now. I knew she felt it, the strings that tied our two hearts together, winding tighter each day.

  My heart knew her heart, a cellular-level recognition. No matter my secret. No matter my name.

  I had a new dream, bigger than my dream to be a musician.

  Us.

  A banging on the outside door to the apartment sounded.

  Lotus was dead to the world, out like a light, but I instantly tensed.

  Extracting myself from her embrace, I slid my pillow into her arms to take my place temporarily. Once I found my discarded board shorts on the carpet, I pulled them on before hurrying to the door.

  I yanked it open, expecting Cork, but discovered my old man there instead.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I asked him.

  Graham swayed, reeking of alcohol, which shocked me. He never drank, as far as I knew. “Where’s your mother?” he asked, slurring his words.

  Apparently, he didn’t have Saber’s address. That was interesting. Lines had been drawn for a while by my older brother that put the old man on the outside. Saber apparently didn’t want Graham to know where he and Shield lived.

  “If it were any of your business, I’d tell you,” I said. “But it’s not.”

  Graham’s brow creased. His harsh features were strained as his sloshed brain tried to put my words together.

  Abandoning the effort, he sneered at me, falling back on the familiar—his rejection of me. “You’re an asshole.”

  Huh. His abuse didn’t sting as badly anymore. Having Lotus put everything else into perspective.

  “You’re a pain in my ass. You always have been.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Why would I want you? You’re not even mine. Things would have worked out, if only she would have gotten rid of you before you were born like I told her to.”

  “What?” I grabbed the doorjamb.

  His eyes took on an evil glint. “You didn’t know? I thought you put it all together a long time ago. Saber certainly did. After you left, he made it his personal crusade to take your place being a pain in my fucking ass.”

  “If I’m not your son,” and, truly, thank the universe for that, “then w
hose am I?”

  “Some strung-out musician she hooked up with while I was away.” Graham’s eyes narrowed. “She called me, was gonna leave me for him. Only the guy was a loser like you. He overdosed and crapped out on her before I got home.”

  “Fucking hell.” I raked a shaking hand through my hair. I’d had a father I might have tried to connect with, then lost him in the blink of an eye.

  Suddenly, shapely arms wound around my waist from behind, calming the chaos inside me.

  “Is everything okay, honey?” Pressing her warm, sexy body into me, Lotus peered around me at our unwelcome guest. “Why is Saber’s father here?”

  Shit, this is a fuckup waiting to happen.

  “He’s looking for Ivy,” I said.

  If she’d arrived a moment earlier, she could have overheard everything. I didn’t want Lotus to find out who I was or whose son I wasn’t from Graham.

  “Her.” My old man’s eyes narrowed on Lotus as he spat out, “She gets around doesn’t she? Slut.”

  “Okay, that’s it.” I picked him up by his Navy shirt again and set him back so hard by the railing, his teeth rattled together.

  I wanted to clock him. Seriously, I thought about it.

  My hands curled into fists at my sides after I released him. But I wasn’t Graham, and I wasn’t his son, which meant his opinion didn’t matter anymore. Only hers did.

  “Get the hell out of here,” I said firmly. “Before I call the cops and report your behavior to the appropriate military authorities.”

  His face turning green, Graham backed away.

  “He’s as awful as he’s ever been,” Lotus said, pressing in closer to me.

  Realizing she was wearing one of my shirts, I drew her back inside the apartment and closed the door.

  I knew closing the door wouldn’t shut Graham Hardy out of my life permanently. There was my mom and my brothers to consider. I would provide support as necessary, and Lotus would have my back like she’d had it tonight. Like she’d had it in the past.

  But this exchange with Graham was over for tonight. Lotus was awake and wearing my shirt. It was time to get it off her.