Sultry Storm (Kimani Romance)

by Norfleet, Celeste O.

  Chapter 6

  “I think it came from out back,” Mia exclaimed.

  Stephen stood and grabbed his shirt and flashlight, then headed straight to the sound, through the kitchen to the back door. Grabbing another flashlight, Mia followed close behind him. He opened the back door to find that a sizable tree branch had split and fallen into the house, nearly breaking off one of the hurricane shutters which now hung loose. He stepped out farther. The wind whipped furiously around him as he tried to move the branch away from the house and secure the shutter. “Take this,” he bellowed, handing her the shirt and flashlight. “Go back inside.”

  “No, don’t,” Mia yelled over the loud winds. “We can’t do anything about it now. I’ll take care of it later.”

  “No, I need to secure the shutter now or flying debris might hit and break the window.”

  She nodded and then stepped outside and watched as he began to move the large branch. His strong arms were thick bands of muscle glistening in the rain. He grabbed the branch, held firm, and then heaved it back. His biceps clinched and his stomach tightened. Even though the rain had eased a bit, he was still getting soaked and all she could think about was how good it would feel to continue what they started a few minutes ago. “Um, I’ll help,” she called out, hoping to distract the lustful hunger she was feeling.

  “No, go back inside,” he instructed, “I got this.” Ignoring him, she rushed to his side and began tugging at the branch. Together they moved it away from the house and he turned his attention to securing the shutter. “Hold this,” he told Mia as he indicated the dangling shutter. “I need to get a hammer and some nails.” He ran back into the house.

  Mia held the corner of the shutter, looking at her shaking hands. She wasn’t sure if it was the storm or the thought of him causing them to shake. The winds beat at her back and a deluge of rain from the roof poured down near her. For the first time in her life she was losing control. Everything she thought was tangled up in wayward emotions. Her grandmother always told her to never lose herself. She never had, not until lately. She was in a hurricane, losing her father’s house and all she could think about was making love to a man she just met. She didn’t even know his last name.

  A loud crash startled her and she looked behind her. The wooden picnic table had overturned and slammed against the back fence. But beyond that the sight was horrendous. The yard was a disaster. High winds had uprooted several bushes and ripped shingles from the shed’s roof. There were deck chairs tossed against the fence and debris was scattered everywhere. The first thing she thought was that her father would be devastated. The yard was his joy.

  Stephen came back with a hammer and nails and secured the loose shutter. The fix was temporary, but it seemed good enough for the time being. She gave him his shirt and then watched as he put it on, leaving it unbuttoned. It blew chaotically with the blustering wind. “Why don’t you go back in the house?” he said as the rain sprayed his face. “I’m gonna check the rest of the shutters and windows.”

  She shook her head. “I need to get my bags from the car,” she said. He nodded. She followed him as he hurried around to each side of the house looking up at the windows. They were covered by shutters and seemed secure. When they got to the front of the house, she hurried to the car and grabbed her two suitcases. He rushed over and took them from her and then grabbed his duffel bag. They ran back into the kitchen, winded and wet.

  “It sounds like the hurricane’s getting closer. Are you okay?” he asked.

  Breathing heavily, she half smiled and nodded. “I’m hot and I’m wet.” The tremble of her voice was low and sexy and that was all he needed for his body to want her all over again. “I think it’s going to be a long night,” she added.

  “I think you’re right.”

  Then suddenly the living room lights came on.

  “Hey, the electricity is back on,” she said. “Maybe the worst will be over soon.”

  Stephen looked at her and his breath caught in his throat. Instinctively his body reacted as his eyes burned a trail down her body. He didn’t respond right away. He didn’t expect the sight of her to arouse him so completely. Her shirt was half-open and the damp swell of her breasts caught his eye. His mouth went dry as he tried to lick his lips. The cotton shirt was soaked and sticking to her easily visible lace bra. The top few buttons were still undone from earlier and the thought of licking the moisture from her chest was too tempting. Whether unintentionally or not, she was pure seduction.

  He looked away. “I don’t think so,” he muttered in response to her remark. He needed a distraction. “Uh, the shutters down here look fine, but I need to double check the windows upstairs and in the attic.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I’ll go with you,” she said.

  “No, stay here,” he said abruptly, and then turned.

  “But—” she began, he was already walking away. She followed him into the living room, then stopped and watched him go upstairs. She couldn’t help but admire the view from behind. Broad shoulders, narrow waist and legs just bowed enough to be sexy as he walked. Dragging herself away, she began extinguishing the candles and then turned off the flashlights.

  As she did, she looked around, reminiscing. The house, with its distinct characteristics, was painted a musty tan with traces of the festive lavender she’d loved so much when she was a child. She remembered the summer they’d painted it together. She’d been thirteen and it had taken them most of their time together to do it, but by the time it was done she was over the moon thrilled. It had been pink and lavender, just like the dollhouse he’d sent her the Christmas before.

  She smiled, remembering the following summer she came to visit. She’d expected the house to be exactly as she’d painted it, but it wasn’t. He’d changed the pink to tan. He apologized, telling her that he just couldn’t live in a pink house any longer. But he kept the purple and that was all that mattered.

  Suddenly she realized just how much she loved this house. It was cluttered and junky but it had character that stemmed from classic Victorian mixed insanely with Caribbean Island influences. Of course the dream of the house was much different than the reality. In reality the possibility of collapse due to neglect seemed plausible. Now frayed and tattered, it was no longer an ode to her father, but instead to their time together. She supposed that was what she wanted to save more than anything else. Holding on to this house meant holding on to him.

  More resolved than ever, she decided not to give up. She knew she needed to do this. After everything that had passed between her and her father, and especially the last few years, she needed to do this for him.

  She sat down in the large chair, looking at the sofa across from her. The memory of lying there with Stephen, running her hands down his chest, and kissing started to heat her skin. Her stomach quivered then did a somersault. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. Maybe it was a bad idea for her to stay down here.

  Stephen had hurried upstairs, doubling the last four steps to expedite his ascent. He needed to put as much distance between the two of them as soon as possible. The earlier taste and feel of her had started a chain reaction that had put his body in permanent standby. Seeing her standing there earlier in the kitchen soaking wet nearly sent him over the top. He wanted her, but that wasn’t what he was supposed to do.

  Needing a momentary distraction, he busied himself by checking the windows in the bedrooms. They were all secure. Afterward he headed to the attic. As soon as he got to the doorway he saw Mia standing at an open window. He entered softly. Rain and wind blustered in, blowing dust and loose papers around the attic. “You need to get away from the window,” he told her. She didn’t answer. “Mia,” he called softly. She turned as he approached. He took her hand and gently pulled her away, then closed and secured the window and hurricane shutters.

  “It’s hot. It feels like a sauna in here,” she said warily.

  “Yeah, hot. You have no idea,” he muttered absently, busing
himself with a stubborn shutter latch. “I thought you were going to wait downstairs.”

  She smiled and shrugged. “I guess I didn’t want to be alone,” she said quietly.

  Stephen nodded. Still feeling the need for distance, he checked the other windows and shutters while keeping an eye on Mia as she walked and looked around.

  “It’s funny, I haven’t been up here in years and now all I can think about is how much my dad loved working up here.” She ran her finger along the edge of his big desk, making a trail in the dust. She smiled thoughtfully. “I’d play up here for hours while he typed.” She looked around seeing all the storage boxes against the back wall. “Man, look at all this stuff.” She walked over and opened the closest box and peeked inside. She took out an oddly shaped ashtray. “Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe he actually kept this. I made this for Father’s Day when I was nine years old.”

  Stephen leaned back against the desk and watched her. The sparkling glint in her eyes was unmistakable. She ran her fingers over every dent and crack, then turned it upside down and read the inscription. She smiled, looking more sexy and desirable than ever. “I think Leo liked to keep things,” he said.

  She looked up. Their eyes connected as they stood in the muted darkness under the one overhead light. At that moment the familiarity of his face seemed more apparent. “You know, I think I remember you—from the memorial service. You were the cop who was with him when he died, aren’t you?” Stephen nodded. “I looked for you after the service, but you were gone.”

  “I had to leave.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly, “for what you did for him.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  “And about what happened downstairs, or rather what almost happened…I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Again, my pleasure,” he joked.

  They smiled. The suggestive remark seemed to add to the already sexually charged air around them. She looked into his piercing dark eyes and the room got even hotter. She turned away, distracting herself. “So, I wonder what’s in all these boxes.”

  Stephen walked over and stood beside her. “Leo told me that he kept everything he ever wrote, his journals, letters, memos, drafts, even a few bad detective novels and of course his acceptance speech for Stockholm, Sweden.”

  “Stockholm?” she asked.

  “He told me once that he expected to win a Nobel Prize for Literature and didn’t want to leave the acceptance speech until the last minute.”

  “He told you that?” She smiled. “It sounds just like him. He was always so sure of himself.”

  “Yeah, his confidence was unrivaled.”

  Mia laughed. “If you mean he was cocky and stubborn, you’re right. Most people he wrote about called his confidence pigheaded arrogance. I heard that there was this one man who even threatened to make him disappear after a particularly scathing investigative article. I think it had something to do with faulty construction material. But my dad refused to retract a single word. I think he just loved a good fight.” Stephen didn’t reply so she continued. “So you knew him pretty well, I guess. Were you one of his informants or something like that?”

  “No, nothing that dramatic.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  “Most recently, I arrested him.”

  “You arrested my father?” she said, surprised. “When? Why?”

  “The when was about a year and a half ago. The why was for disorderly conduct and public drunkenness.”

  “Figures,” she said bitterly.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I don’t know if you knew him before, but my dad changed a few years ago. He quit his job and refused to write another word for publication.”

  “Do you know why?” he asked.

  “No, but I have my suspicions. Something major happened to make him stop. He never told me what it was. He gave me the standard excuse—he’d had enough—but I didn’t buy it. He loved investigative journalism too much. He always told me to never give up, never surrender to pressure. And the thing is he gave up on himself and started drinking.” She looked away sadly.

  Stephen saw her pained expression but didn’t respond. Apparently she didn’t know the whole truth about her father and he knew this wasn’t the time or place to reveal it to her. Instead he told her about the night they’d met.

  “He didn’t usually drink. I think he was hurting that night and decided to throw a party for himself in the middle of Main Street. Actually, I didn’t technically arrest him that time. It was more like taking him someplace to sleep it off. I think he’d had a particularly bad day.”

  She smiled. “My mom always said that my dad used to have a lot of bad days when they were married. Then he went on the wagon. I guess he fell off.”

  “Leo was a good man. He just had a few limitations.”

  She chuckled. “Limitations—that’s putting it nicely. Most people thought he was an egotistical, big-headed bastard. My mom was one of them. He drove people crazy, and then he drove them away.”

  “Did he drive you away?”

  “He wanted me to dump my ex-fiancé, but I wouldn’t. I should have, because he was right about him. But that’s a different story. I just wish we…” She didn’t finish. Instead, she looked away quickly. It wasn’t her father that drove her away. It was her stubbornness to be right that ended their closeness. Maybe Neal was right. Maybe she was cold and controlling. “My dad and I weren’t close when he died. I guess you knew that, though. Circumstance separated—” she began then halted, swallowing hard and feeling her pain choke her.

  “He adored you,” he said gently.

  “And you know that how?” she asked.

  “The way he talked about you.”

  “He talked about me?” she asked.

  “Nonstop,” he said, standing in front of her.

  “Why didn’t he tell me how sick he was?”

  “He loved you too much.”

  Tears hidden for so long pushed forward, but Mia refused to release them. She didn’t cry before and she wasn’t going to cry now. Crying was for the weak. She had to be strong and stay in control. But it was getting harder and harder to do when every part of her wanted to just let go and give in.

  “Mia,” Stephen said softly, taking her hand. “Hey, are you okay?” She nodded, but it was obvious that she wasn’t. “It’s okay to let go.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  He pulled her close, but she resisted. “Yes, it is. Believe me, you need this.” Seconds later, she went willingly and for just a moment she let go and melted into his arms. He blanketed her with his strength. Her body shuddered as she closed her eyes, feeling safe and protected by a man she barely knew. They stood there a moment, feeling the closeness grow between them.

  “Are you okay?” he asked again as he began stroking her back.

  “Not even close,” she said, nestling closer into his embrace. He held her loosely then kissed her forehead with a sweet promise. She closed her eyes, savoring his touch. He felt good, he smelled good and heaven help her, all she could think about was a half hour earlier when he’d tasted so very good.

  The fortress she had so carefully erected around her heart began to show signs of weakness. She pressed her body closer and felt him react to her pressure. She nuzzled, sensing the readiness in both of them to take it one step further.

  She leaned back and looked up at him. Their eyes connected. It was there, everything she ever wanted, right there in his eyes. The surging inferno reignited the smoldering burn inside her. Stephen must have felt it, too, because his hands traveled up her arms, to her shoulders then along the curve of her neck and jaw where they tipped up her chin slightly. Mia held her breath, expecting and wanting whatever came next. He leaned in closer, just inches from her mouth. The musky scent of his body enveloped her, and she wallowed in its richness. His heated breath mingled with her own, making her stomach spin in circles. Kiss me, she wanted to scream. Touch me, take me.
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  “You’re closer than you think,” he whispered ominously, as if it were a promise of things to come and not just a hopeful suggestion.

  The essence of his breath was so close she could almost taste it. Her heart pounded and every nerve ending tingled. No one, especially Neal, had ever made her feel this level of intensity of excitement and desire. Everything about this moment felt so right. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but desire pulled too strong to resist.

  Finally his mouth descended on hers, lightly, barely covering hers, giving her latitude to step back. She didn’t. She couldn’t. Her arousal soared too high. She wanted this. She wanted him.

  Her lips parted and his tongue playfully entered her mouth. The burn was there, icy and hot, lightning quick and torturously slow. He moved inside of her and all she could think was, more. She wrapped her arms around him, sealing her hungry kiss to his lips. There was no time, no place, no hurricane pounding to enter their cocoon of ecstasy. There was only the two of them in a dusty attic joined for as long as the kiss lasted.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind she started to think again. The icy fog of panic thickened, slicing through the warmth. Good Lord, what was wrong with her? He was being caring and compassionate and all she could think was how good it felt to be in his arms. Apparently reading all those books had finally driven her sex crazy, or at the very least horny as all get-out. After a deep breath she took control then leaned back, putting much needed distance between them. “Um, I’m better,” she said, lacking genuine assurance.

  “Maybe not yet, but you will be.”

  She stepped back further and looked at him. His dark sexy eyes were glassy and his face was tense and stressed. “You don’t look so good. Maybe you’d better go back downstairs and rest.”

  “I’m fine. I just need to wash up,” he said.

  “Oh, sure, there’s a bathroom downstairs, second door—”

  “—On the left. Yes, I know. But I think I’ll just go down and wash up in the mudroom. I’ll check on the generator while I’m there.” He walked past her toward the stairs.