When Lightning Strikes (The Storm Inside Book 3)

by Alexis Anne

She cupped my balls and ran her hand up and down my shaft, making me feel completely alive. My hips flexed, looking for more. My brain stopped working. “Fuck, baby. You’re a magician.”

  “I’m just getting started. I have a bet to pay off. You lasted much longer than five minutes with my father.” Her voice deepened, sounding sexy as hell. Then she took me in her warm, wet mouth and my vision went black. The sound of her sucking and licking was as hot as the feel of her tongue and the back of her throat.

  “I’m close, babe.” Normally we stopped once I got close so I could get her turned on, too. I really liked the delayed satisfaction of pumping into her when I finally came.

  But this time she didn’t stop. She kept on sucking and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it. My orgasm took over and I came like I hadn’t had sex in a month—which was strange because we’d had sex last night before we went to sleep. I don’t know why it felt so overwhelming, or needed, but it did.

  When I came back to reality and looked down at Marie, I expected to see that self-satisfied smirk she usually got when she did this. The one that said she enjoyed making me lose my shit. But that wasn’t what I saw at all. The glazed look was back and that’s when I realized she’d done this to distract me. Marie was acting out of defense, not desire.

  “Baby? What’s wrong?” I asked quietly.

  “Did you enjoy that?” She stood up and moved immediately away from me, finding a glass in the cabinet and pouring some water. She kept her back to me.

  “Of course I enjoyed it. Your mouth on my dick is pretty much the best feeling in the world.”

  “Good,” she breathed and set the glass down on the counter. It sounded like she needed to hear me say that. Like she needed a win for her ego or confidence or something…I wasn’t really sure what. All I knew was that I needed to return the favor as fast as I could, otherwise Marie was going to retreat into her head and I was gonna lose her to her thoughts.

  Two could play the distraction game. I spun her around and picked her up, placing her on the counter, then kneeled down and went to work. I didn’t give her time to say anything or protest, but she was stiff as a board for the first minute or so. It wasn’t until I licked around her clit and circled my finger that she finally started to relax.

  I slid my index finger inside and made the “come here” gesture. She finally put her fingers in my hair, running them along my scalp and occasionally using pressure to tell me what she liked.

  I stroked and sucked, but what Marie really liked was when I licked long and slow along her folds and around her clit. She moaned and shuddered, rolling her hips and quietly begging me for more. I drew it out, hoping to keep her as happy and distracted as I could for as long as possible.

  I licked at her, bringing her right to the brink of her orgasm, feeling the tiny flutters around my fingers and the shudders of her body as she gasped for air.

  I was hard as a rock again, ready to give Marie every possible form of pleasure when she came, inside and out. I could tell her orgasm would be better with my cock inside her. It would give her body something to clench around. My fingers were good, but my long, hard cock would be so much better—for her and me.

  She gasped as I sank into her. It was so much more intimate. Hotter, wetter, more everything.

  “Shit. This feels so good,” she said between clenched teeth.

  “Baby, you have no idea.” I slid in and out slowly. A flush crept up her chest and neck. She strained and her muscles flexed. She was so close. I put one hand on her hip and used my thumb to press against her swollen clit. It took two more strokes before she came.

  It was a thing of pure beauty.

  Until she opened her eyes. Now that was beautiful. Those baby blues were pure happiness.

  I did that. I put that back in her eyes.

  Me and my cock. Damn, I loved the power of sex.

  “Thank you. That was…wow,” she panted.

  “Mind if I finish?”

  She smiled. “Not at all.”

  I lasted about fifteen seconds. It was a small little orgasm, but an orgasm nonetheless.

  Marie was definitely back. She leaned against the cabinets, naked as a jaybird, with a satisfied grin on her beautiful face.

  “Marie?” A voice I did not recognize, and was definitely male, called from the front door. “Marie, are you home? Your car is in the driveway and the door was unlocked so I came in…”

  Her eyes widened and shot to mine. Whoever it was, she was surprised. “Brandon,” she whispered and looked down at our very naked bodies.

  Shit. The bastard was early.

  “Hold on!” she yelled over my shoulder. “We’re in the kitchen but do not come in here!”

  “Why?” he sounded curious.

  “Because we lack clothing, dumbass.” She rolled her eyes.

  So she had a friendly relationship with Natalie’s father, good to know.

  “And you definitely don’t want to meet my ugly ass without pants,” I yelled.

  Marie shook her head and jumped off the counter. Our clothes were by the front door. We had nothing.

  “Uh, Brandon?” She bit her lip and shrugged. “Could you possibly go sit in the living room and close your eyes?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, sure. I see your clothes, now. Just count to twenty and then go get dressed.”

  “Seems like a reasonable enough dude,” I whispered to Marie as we crept toward the doorway.

  “He can be,” she whispered back. “When he wants to be.”

  I poked my head out and saw him settle down on the couch. The back of his head looked totally normal.

  “You ready?”

  She grinned up at me. “I get the feeling you’re going to ask me that a lot over the years.”

  “If we’re doing it right, then yeah.” I liked the way that sounded.

  “C’mon.” She took my hand and led me up the stairs, her naked ass swaying she moved up the steps with her hair trailing down her back.

  Yeah, I could be okay with this being my life.

  Very okay.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I nervously looked back and forth between Greg and Brandon. We were at dinner and so far everything was going very well. “How’s the steak?” I asked Brandon.

  “Good. Very tender. I guess Tampa does have some decent food after all.”

  “Not everywhere can be Paris,” I chided.

  After Greg and I found some clothes, I introduced the two men in my life. Brandon was very cool about the whole “sex in the kitchen” thing and didn’t give me a hard time. I’m sure he could have come up with a thousand jokes but he didn’t. Instead he just laughed it off and said he was happy for us. Then he apologized for crashing our date night and offered to take us out to dinner on him while we waited for Natalie.

  “So how is life over there?” Greg asked. “The girls talk about you all the time, but not much about Paris.”

  Brandon glanced at me with a wry smile. “That’s because Marie is still mad at me for moving. I think we’re making it work just fine despite the distance. I mean, it’s not like I gave you too much trouble when you up and moved the office to Tampa.”

  “Because you knew why I was moving,” I replied through a very forced smile.

  “Away from me with my daughter.”

  “It’s all complicated.” I could admit that much. The rest was nitpicking details and I was too tired to care.

  Brandon held my gaze for a moment, before turning back to Greg and spurting off several lines in French.

  “Brandon, don’t be an ass.” I smacked him on the arm. Replying to Greg in French about how lovely it was to live in the city was overkill.

  But then Greg replied in kind. He also told Brandon to go fuck himself for showing off—all in French.

  “I’m gonna shut up now since you two are working out the parameters of your pissing contest all on your own.” I grabbed my wine and sunk into my seat. How did I not know that Greg spoke French?


  “Aww, Ree, don’t be like that. It was an accident. I honestly didn’t mean to slip like that—I’m still getting used to being back in the States.”

  I cringed at the nickname and Greg glared at Brandon. The vein in his neck was pulsing and his jaw clenched and unclenched several times. The pissing contest was going to turn into a brawl with these two personalities.

  “Whatever,” I muttered. Brandon knew exactly what he was doing and Greg had called him on it. “So, meetings got done early today in Miami?”

  “They did. They went well and all is moving ahead nicely. I was hoping to get some extra time with Natalie.”

  “She’s gonna flip. I hope you wore a cup.”

  Greg snorted and Brandon smiled. “How are Edward and Lucinda?”

  “Same,” I said quietly. “How are Tomas and Ana?”

  He grinned. “Same. At least I don’t have to work with mine anymore.”

  “There’s empires to build.” I held up my hand the way my father always did when he said that stupid phrase. “You lucky bastard.”

  Tomas decided he needed to live out his years with his mistress instead of his wife, so he left his company in the hands of Brandon and shacked up in London, walking completely away from his company and letting Brandon run Calais Athletics however he wanted—including completely changing the company and moving it to Paris.

  “You should try it sometime,” Brandon said quietly.

  “What?”

  “Not working with your empire-obsessed father or your crazy mother.” He kept his gaze leveled on me.

  We were in this weird triangle of staring. Brandon at me. Greg at me. And me at…the table.

  “Maybe soon. You know what I always said.” And I left it at that because this was something I had never once broached with Greg and would require a great deal of explanation I didn’t have the energy for.

  “Maybe soon?” Greg blurted out. “Maybe now. Leave the bastard in the dust. You’re fucking brilliant Marie, you don’t need him. He needs you. You could get another job in a heartbeat.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Brandon agreed. Now Brandon and Greg were talking to each other. Apparently they thought they could decide my career for me.

  “It’s my family company,” I said simply. “And he’s my father. Maybe one day I’ll walk away, but today’s not that day.”

  As long as we didn’t spend too much time together I could handle my parents in small doses. There was no reason to go and abandon a great job at a major company that just so happened to be built by my family. Everyone had family problems.

  It seemed logical to me, but I could tell by the looks on their faces that Brandon and Greg did not agree. I wasn’t sure I agreed with me anymore, but I wasn’t making life-altering decisions over dinner. Certainly not with these two. I loved them both dearly, in completely different ways, but this was not their call.

  “Let’s finish up. Natalie should be back soon.”

  There was grumbling but no other discussion about my job, though I was pretty sure I was going to get a thorough grilling from Greg the minute we were alone again.

  He moved closer and put his arm over my shoulder. Everything about his look and position was relaxed and casual—except that nothing about Greg was actually relaxed or casual. He was stiff as a board, his eyes saw everything, and each of his words was designed to make an impact.

  He was doing exactly what he said he was going to do: be a complete ass until he made his point.

  “So you make athletic clothing, do you play any actual sports?” Greg asked.

  “Several,” Brandon replied.

  “Good at any of them?”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

  “Basketball and tennis are my sports of choice. You?”

  “Naw, I just like to shoot things,” Greg replied with a grin. “And I lift…you know, for the health of it.”

  Brandon drank his scotch. “Not a team player? Prefer to be alone, huh?”

  “Always better to lead than follow.”

  “Unless you have no one to lead,” Brandon shot back.

  Greg grinned.

  “So,” I sat up before things could go any further. “Natalie?”

  Brandon didn’t look at me, he was staring a hole in Greg, and Greg was staring right back.

  I stood up and physically put myself between them. “Stop being assholes. Please? Calais is the largest athletic clothing company in Europe. Spencer, Hamilton, and Associates is one of the most innovative engineering firms in the country. You both have a lot to be proud of. Can we move on already?”

  “Absolutely,” Greg said softly, standing up and kissing me on the cheek. “There’s no comparison. He makes over-priced clothing, I actually build things people need.”

  I groaned and hung my head before I stormed out of the restaurant. I was done dealing with those two.

  I started the car and rested my forehead on the steering wheel while I waited for Thing One and Thing Two. It wasn’t like dinner had gone badly—it hadn’t at all. It was just the constant back and forth over whose dick was bigger got old fast. And seriously, what was it accomplishing? Brandon was still Natalie’s father and Greg was still my boyfriend. Hopefully they got whatever answers they needed fast. Otherwise, I was going to smack them both.

  The car ride back was silent. I got the feeling they’d agreed to shut up for the rest of the night for my sanity. So at least I knew they could reach an agreement when they had to. That was something.

  We stayed up a little later than normal while Brandon and Natalie caught up. It was only slightly awkward that the father of my child and my boyfriend were sleeping under the same roof.

  I finally relaxed once the bedroom door was closed and I was half naked in bed. Greg pulled me onto his chest and started stroking my hair. “Talk to me. What would make you leave Bancroft Sports?”

  Greg was never, ever going to win an award for subtlety, but that’s what I loved about him most. I didn’t answer right away because I was trying to sort through all my thoughts. Where did I even begin?

  “Do you need another job first?”

  “No that’s not it,” I sighed. He waited patiently and I listened to the sound of his heart beating in his chest. Strong. Consistent. It was soothing. “Nat and I are set up financially even if I were to quit tomorrow. I’ve been planning for this for years, mostly because I really wanted to make sure Natalie would always be taken care of no matter what. She has a trust. I have a trust, for that matter. But beyond that, I’ve saved a lot of money, made good investments, and have an emergency fund in an offshore account.”

  I was pretty proud of the cushion I’d created for us. I didn’t need to work for years if I didn’t want to.

  “Good. So what’s the hold up?”

  “You really don’t like them, do you?”

  His arms came around me and I looked up.

  “They make you miserable and they’re not nice people. No, I don’t like them one bit.” I got a little lost in his gaze. “Baby, they make you frown…they’re kind of ruining all my hard work.”

  Okay, so I couldn’t fault him for that. “Edward is supposed to officially step down at the beginning of next year. After the holidays. If he does, then I don’t see any issue with continuing my job. But if he doesn’t…”

  “You don’t think he’s going to.”

  “No. He spent the last two days questioning every decision I’ve made in the last six months. He reviewed every agent and every major account. That man has no interest in retiring or taking a step back. Bancroft Sports is who he is and I don’t think he knows how to be anything else.”

  “So what are your contingency plans?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I replied. “I was going to start looking into it this summer while Natalie was gone.”

  He nodded and returned to the slow, ridiculously soothing stroking of my hair. Seriously, I could live like this forever. Greg had magical hands.

  “Start
looking now, babe. Life is too short for this shit.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  By mid-morning I’d cleared my desk at work, picked up a very early lunch, and arrived at Bancroft Sports an hour earlier than planned. Cuz yeah, I was gonna be that guy. I wanted to infringe on Brandon’s time with Marie. I wanted to see how the bastard worked during the day and in a professional environment. I wanted him to know I was around.

  All the fucking time.

  Reasonable guy or not, this was my turf and Marie was my woman. Until I felt like all parties were fully aware of what was what, I was gonna keep acting like a douchecanoe.

  The front desk was abandoned, so I didn’t get to make Thad feel uncomfortable. I started down the glass hallway with our lunch dangling from my hand when I realized all the offices were empty.

  What the fuck?

  Then I heard laughter coming from the conference room toward the end of the hall near Marie’s office. I walked up slowly, hoping to see what was going on before anyone noticed I was there.

  Fucking Brandon was standing at the head of the table with boxes of clothes, putting on quite the comical performance, and throwing out shirts when different people answered his questions. He was running the room.

  Everyone was crammed in there, laughing, smiling, having a damn good time. Even Marie. She was standing against the glass wall, arms folded across her chest, grinning.

  Mr. Jealousy-Rage-Monkey reared his ugly head again.

  At least she wasn’t laughing. I think hearing her laugh would just about kill me.

  “Alright, for our new sweat-wicking compression shirt—in blue—who can tell me the first, and last, account that Marie personally handled?” Everyone erupted into a fit of laughter except for Marie.

  Instead she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You’re an ass.”

  “Scott Dunlap!” Someone yelled out.

  “Bingo!” Brandon tossed the shirt at the guy. “Bonus, for another shirt. Who can tell me why he was her last?”

  Marie covered her face and groaned. “No…”

  Brandon grinned and a different person, a woman this time, called out the answer. “She refused to help him hide his mistress from his girlfriend, and accidentally got caught on tape telling him to ‘grow the fuck up.’ ”