Chayton's Tempest

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Chayton's Tempest Page 15

by Aliyah Burke


  not.” She tried to make him understand.

  “Oh, baby, you have never been more wrong. You are

  my chante, my heart. I’m going to be in your life, yours and

  Dakota’s.”

  “You don’t know me anymore; and to be honest, I’m not

  sure I want you to.” Tempest pushed back from his touch and

  managed to open the door to her house. “Listen, James, I think

  you’re just feeling guilty for how this whole thing went down.

  I’m glad that you and Dakota are beginning to work things out

  between you, but like I said before, I’m not part of this deal.”

  Reaching one hand out to hold her immobile, Maverick

  stared down at her, observing how her skin shone in the

  entryway light of her home. “Mitawin, I do feel horrible about

  what happened and I will continue to do my best to make up

  for it. I also know you don’t believe me.” Rubbing his thumb

  across her lower lip, he whispered, “You are so much more

  than just ‘part of the deal’ and I will show you that.”

  “Goodnight,” she said softly.

  Leaning in to brush their lips together one more time,

  Maverick mumbled, “Don’t lead him on. He isn’t the man for

  you. Nimitawa ktelo. Mitawin.”

  Even though she didn’t understand the words he spoke,

  the meaning wasn’t all that hard to decipher. “My life, my

  choices.” She stepped back into her house and closed the door

  gently in his face.

  Tempest locked it and forced herself away from the door

  because she knew she would let him in otherwise. His image

  was implanted in her brain as she slipped in her bed. “Damn

  you, James. Damn you for making me feel something for you.”

  The next day in the mail a letter was hand delivered to

  Tempest. Closing her front door on the afternoon sun, she sat

  down on her couch and slit it open. Inside she pulled out a

  handwritten note.

  Tempest,

  This isn’t a bribe. This is not me trying to buy affection, from

  either you or Dakota.

  I looked into it and this is some money to help repay what I wasn’t

  around for, like back child support. I know I owe you both so much

  more than this, for I can never repay not being around.

  Don’t try to return it to me; it’s for you, Tempest.

  I just wish I could have been there.

  You are my mitawin, and I won’t abandon you ever again.

  Maverick

  A cashier’s check fell upon her lap. Tempest picked it up

  and almost fainted. The amount was more than she ever would

  have dreamed of holding in her hand. “Oh, James. I can’t

  accept this.” Tears welled up in her eyes as she held it to her

  chest.

  “Everything okay, Mom?” Dakota asked.

  “Fine, just fine.” She sent him a shaky smile to assuage

  his fears.

  “You don’t look it; are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Tempest looked at her son. “You and James

  seem to be getting along; do you know where he’s staying?”

  Dakota shook his head. “I have his number. Let me get it

  for you.” Tempest buried the letter and remained seated as

  Dakota brought her a slip of paper. “Here you go.”

  Her hand shook as she took it. “Thank you.”

  Instead of leaving, Dakota sat down beside her. “What

  aren’t you telling me, Mom? There’s something bothering you.

  I know it so don’t bother denying it.”

  “I don’t know, Dakota. I’m just confused,” Tempest

  admitted.

  “Because of my fa…Maverick showing back up?”

  “Yes.” She tipped her head back to lean against the

  couch. “For so many years, I was able to hide behind my anger

  at the injustice of it all.” Tempest paused. “But if he was telling

  the truth about not knowing, then my anger at him is unjust.”

  “I don’t know what he is up to, but he really does seem

  sincere. And you had every right to be mad, don’t start feeling

  guilty about that.” He kissed her on the cheek and stood. “I’m

  off; I’ll be back later. I have to go see about my paper in

  Principles of Cultural Anthropology.”

  “Bye,” she said on a whisper as he left the house. For a

  brief moment, Tempest sat there and just looked at the letter

  that had found its way back into her hand. She closed her eyes

  and ground her back teeth.

  Shoving up from the sofa, Tempest grabbed the handset

  off the charger and dialed the number on the paper before her.

  Her foot tapped out a cadence as she waited for the person on

  the other end to pick up.

  When the masculine voice answered she snapped, “I

  need to see you. Give me the address of your hotel and room

  number.”

  Thirty minutes later, Tempest stood before a pale-green

  hotel door. Her hair was swept up off her neck and piled on

  her head to allow for maximum coolness. Reaching out, she

  knocked twice swiftly and sharply.

  The door swung open and Tempest couldn’t help the

  sharp breath she took as the magnificent form of James

  Lonetree filled her sight. The man was just too fine for his own

  good.

  He had on a white, button-down shirt, which was open.

  She ogled his bared, hairless, and bronzed marbled chest. A

  pair of those sinfully tight black jeans cuddled his lower half

  just so perfectly.

  The way his hair hung about his face brought out the

  depths of his black eyes. And right then, those eyes were

  focused on her. “Aho,” he uttered while he swung the door

  open wider to allow her entrance.

  Tempest shoved past his hard, lean body, determined

  not to let him affect her. “If that means, hello, then hello back.”

  Reaching the middle of his hotel room, she turned back and

  glared at the man who had shut the door behind her and was

  leaning nonchalantly against it.

  “It does,” he conceded as he remained relaxed against

  the door. His eyes perused over her form as she stood in his

  hotel room. She wore a dark-purple spaghetti-strapped tank

  top, white capris and white sandals on her feet. A dark-purple

  ribbon secured the knot of hair on top of her head.

  “I can’t accept this,” she blurted out as her hand waved

  the cashier’s check in the air. “I won’t accept it.”

  Crossing strong arms over his chest, Maverick bit back

  his initial response of running over to her. “You will,” he stated

  calmly.

  Her eyes grew large with disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m

  standing here having an argument with you. I’m not taking

  this, end of discussion.”

  With a seamlessly effortless motion, Maverick pushed

  off from the door and flowed towards her. His eyes grabbed

  onto and held hers tight as he grew closer and closer. Each step

  made with pure, jungle-cat ease.

  His large presence dwarfed her and she moved

  backward until she could go no further because of the wall

  behind her. Maverick spread his legs shoulder-width apart and

  watched her, chiseled arms still crossed before him.

 
Tempest held out the slip of paper between them, almost

  like a buffer. He ignored it and just stared at her. “Would you

  take this?” Her words were sharp and a bit breathless.

  “No,” he said as he shook his head.

  “Fine! I’ll just leave it on the table.” A solidly structured

  bronze arm stopped her.

  “No, I don’t think you will. That’s for you.” He shifted,

  placing his other arm on the other side of her. Maverick

  lowered his face closer to hers. “But you were right about one

  thing.”

  He saw her swallow hard, as if to regain control of her

  body’s response to him, Tempest managed to ask, “What was

  that?”

  “That it was pointless to stand here and argue about the

  money.” His ebony eyes caressed her face. “Especially when

  there is something much more exciting I want to do with this

  luscious vixen who happens to grace my room.”

  Even as tremors rocketed through her body at his words,

  Tempest was determined not to give in. “I didn’t come here for

  a roll in the sack, James,” she ground out.

  “Plans can change,” he taunted.

  “Not mine.” She pushed against his chest, fighting the

  temptation to allow her fingers to dance all over his smooth

  chest. “Do you mind moving?”

  “Icamna sapa, I’ll move all day and night with you.

  Especially if I’m inside you.”

  Tempest licked her lips and tried to ignore the dampness

  that flooded her body. “Would you stop?” she asked.

  Lowering his face even closer, he whispered, “Stop

  what?”

  “Speaking to me in words I can’t understand.” Tempest

  seemed to have forgotten that her hands were plastered against

  his rock-hard pectorals.

  “Did you want me to translate?” His voice dropped

  lower as he moved his head to the side of her neck, inhaling the

  scents that made up Tempest. “Or do you just have an aversion

  to my native tongue?”

  “Don’t be absurd, James, I don’t have a problem with

  your tongue.” Tempest’s eyes widened as she realized what

  she said.

  His lips moved along the soft skin of her neck. “And my

  tongue is thrilled to know that. Believe me.” Maverick shifted

  his body and diminished the distance between them even

  more. “Why does it bother you?”

  Tilting her head to the side, to allow his firm lips better

  access to her neck, Tempest shivered. “I don’t like not knowing

  what people are calling me.”

  One hand untied the ribbon holding her hair up and

  Maverick groaned as her hair cascaded down over his skin.

  Drawing back, he put one hand on each side of her face. “Baby,

  nothing bad will ever come out of my mouth when I talk to or

  about you.”

  Tempest whimpered as his lips caressed her forehead. “I

  have to go.”

  “Why are you running from me, mitawin?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’ll tell you when you’re really ready to know.” Each

  word he spoke sent twice the shivers down her spine. The feel

  of his lips on her skin combined with the rich sexy tone of his

  voice was very nearly her undoing.

  “I’m ready to know,” Tempest tried to insist.

  His chuckle reverberated through her body. “Not yet,

  but soon.” He nibbled his was across her forehead and down

  the side of her face, stopping once he reached the hollow of her

  throat. Maverick swiped his tongue into the small crevice and

  reveled in her body’s response.

  Cursing herself eight ways to Sunday, Tempest shoved

  once again on the chest she seemed unable to stop touching.

  “I’m not doing this with you. You want sex, find someone else

  to get it from.”

  Maverick allowed the distance between them. He

  wanted her, that was no secret; and he wasn’t stupid—he was

  well aware she wanted him too. But if she were going to ignore

  those feelings, there was no way in hell he was going to coerce

  her.

  When next they made love, they would both be willing

  and with no hesitations. Not to mention a bed. Maverick berated

  himself. He’d slept with her twice and neither time had been in

  a bed. First time was outside and the second was in a basement.

  “I don’t want anyone else, Tempest. So if you aren’t

  ready, then fine. I’ll wait.” Maverick stepped back so her hands

  fell away from his body. If she kept touching him, his word

  was going to go right out the window.

  Determined to ignore the effect of those words, Tempest

  shrugged it off. Bending down, she picked up the paper that

  had fallen from her fingers at some point and held it back out

  to him.

  Maverick arched a brow and crossed his arms again.

  “I’m not taking it back,” he said.

  Clenching her jaw, she walked over to the table and set

  it down. “Well, neither am I.” Refusing to look at him again,

  she headed for the door.

  “Tempest,” his low voice reached her.

  “What?” She waited by the door with her hand on the

  knob. When he didn’t say anything else she glanced behind

  her.

  Maverick stood by the sliding door to his balcony. His

  powerful body leaned against the wall and he lit a cigarette,

  watching her. “Take it with you.” He took a long drag of his

  smoke.

  Opening her mouth to dispute him again, she shut it as

  he walked outside and leaned against the railing, his back to

  her. His voice reached her easily. “I’m letting you go because

  you are still fighting your attraction to me, and that’s okay. Not

  taking the money isn’t. You can go but that money had better go

  with you. Don’t make me put it into your account for you.”

  He felt Tempest glare at his back but he never turned

  around until he heard the door to his room open and shut.

  Even then, Maverick still remained out on the small balcony

  until he finished his cigarette. He knew he should have walked

  her down; but for the life of him, he had no idea how much

  more hold he had on his control.

  Sixteen

  Tempest fumed as she drove. “How dare he order me

  around like that?!” Her hand smacked the steering wheel and

  she cussed. “What the hell am I supposed to do?” Pulling into

  a gas station, she mulled things over while she pumped gas.

  Her eyes fell upon the passenger seat where the money from

  Maverick rested.

  As she waited for her receipt to print, an idea came to

  her. “Well, if he wants to get rid of his money, who am I to stop

  him?” Climbing back into her Envoy, Tempest headed for her

  bank.

  An hour later she walked out in decent spirits. Good

  decision, Temp. Her mood entirely better as she drove home, she

  had a smile on her face as she pulled into the drive. Entering

  her house, she realized it was still empty; Dakota was off

  somewhere else, so Tempest moved to the kitchen and began to

  bake a cake. She needed it after the afternoon she’d
just had.

  _

  The knock on the door startled Maverick. I was hoping

  you’d come back, Tempest. Setting down his book, he walked over

  to the door and opened it.

  “Yes?”

  Dakota stood on the other side. “Do you have a

  minute?”

  “Of course, come on in.” Maverick swung the door open

  and gestured for his son to enter. Good thing you kept your mouth

  shut, man. “What can I do for you?”

  “Aren’t you going to ask how I knew where you were

  staying?”

  The attitude wasn’t lost on Maverick. “Should I?”

  Shutting the door behind him, he walked back over to his bed

  and sat down on it.

  Dakota tried to glare at the man but found it was even

  harder than staring down his mother. There was a blankness in

  these eyes that scared him. “Maybe you should,” Dakota

  snapped, even more irritated now that he had to look away

  from his father’s stare.

  Leaning back against the wall, Maverick reached for and

  lit a cigarette. “Okay. How did you know where I was

  staying?”

  “You smoke?”

  Exhaling, he nodded. “You plannin’ on answering the

  question you wanted me to ask?” While he was ecstatic he had

  a son, Maverick was only going to let one person get away with

  being short with him, and that was Dakota’s mother. Not him.

  “No.” Dakota sat down in a chair and looked around the

  room. “Not much in the way of looks.”

  Maverick remained silent, just smoking his cigarette as

  he watched his son. My son. Although, I don’t know if the attitude

  he gets is from me or his mother.

  The silence stretched on. Maverick, perfectly used to

  waiting, had no intentions of breaking it first. Dakota began to

  shift uncomfortably as the length increased.

  The ringing of a cell phone broke the quiet. Maverick

  opened his phone and answered. It was his parents and so he

  switched over to Lakota. As the voice on the other end

  continued rambling on, Maverick noticed the interested look on

  his son’s face.

  Switching back to English, Maverick said, “I have to go.

  My son is here and I want to talk to him. Goodbye.” He

  snapped it shut and held Dakota’s gaze. “I’m getting hungry;

  care to join me for dinner?”

  Dakota pursed his lips as though the question took a

  great deal of thought for him. Finally on a long-suffering sigh,

  he nodded. “Sure, I guess.”

 

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