Riding the Storm (18 page)

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Authors: Brenda Jackson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Arts&Photography

BOOK: Riding the Storm
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slow
and
their
bodies
were
barely
moving.
He
knew
it
and
she
knew
it,
as
well.
He
was
also
certain
that
she
was

aware
that
he
was
aroused.
With
her
body
so
close
to
his,
there
was
no
way
that
she
didn’t
know
it.

He
wanted
her
to
feel
all
of
him
and
pulled
her
closer
into
his
arms.
Automatically,
she
placed
her
head
against
his
chest
and
he
closed
his
eyes
as
they
swayed
to
the
sound
of
the
music.
If
she
thought
he
smelled
good,
then
he

thought
likewise
about
her.
The
scent
of
her
perfume
was
intoxicating,
seductive
and
a
total
turn-on.
Moments
later,
the
music
faded
and
they
stopped
dancing,
but
he
refused
to
release
her.
He
needed
to
continue
to
hold
her
in
his

arms.

Jayla
lifted
her
face
and
met
Storm’s
gaze.
The
look
in
his
eyes
was
intense
and
purely
sexual.
“I
should
try
and

continue
to
fight
this,”
he
said
as
if
the
words
were
being
forced
from
him.
She
could
clearly
understand
what
he

meant.

She
did.
“Don’t
fight
it,”
she
said
softly.

He
narrowed
his
eyes
at
her.
“You’re
not
helping
matters,
Jayla.”
His
words
were
a
low
growl
in
her
ear.

She
narrowed
her
eyes
right
back
at
him.
“Why
should
I?”

He
stared
at
her
for
a
long
time.
Then
he
glanced
around.
It
seemed
they
were
the
center
of
attention.
He
looked
back

at
her.
“But
you
deserve
more
than
just—”

“A
one-night
stand?
Shouldn’t
I
be
the
one
to
make
that
decision,
Storm?
I’m
twenty-six-years
old.
I
work
and
pay
my
own
bills.
I’m
a
woman,
not
a
child,
and
it’s
time
you
realized
that.”

He
stared
at
her
for
a
long
moment,
then
said,
“I
just
did.”
He
tightened
his
hand
on
hers
and
tugged
her
along
with
him
out
of
the
club.

“Where
are
we
going?”
Jayla
asked,
almost
out
of
breath
as
she
tried
keeping
up
with
Storm’s
long
strides
as
he
tried
hailing
a
cab.

“Back
to
the
hotel.”

A
few
moments
later,
Storm
cursed.
There
were
few
cabs
around
and
the
ones
he
saw
were
already
occupied.
He

glanced
across
the
street
and
saw
a
parked
horse-drawn
coach.
Evidently,
someone
had
used
it
for
a
wedding
and
it
reminded
him
of
the
coach
that
might
be
used
as
a
prop
in
Cinderella.
“Come
on,”
he
said,
keeping
a
firm
hold
on

Jayla’s
hand.

They
quickly
crossed
the
street
and
approached
the
driver,
who
was
holding
the
reins
to
keep
the
horses
from

prancing.
“We
need
a
ride
back
to
the
Sheraton
Hotel
on

Canal,”
Storm
said,
nearly
out
of
breath.

The
old
man
raised
a
bushy
brow.
“My
rates
are
by
the
hour.”

“Fine,
just
get
us
there
quick
and
in
one
piece.”

The
driver
nodded
his
head,
indicating
that
he
understood.
Storm
then
turned
and
opened
the
carriage
door.
When

Jayla
lifted
her
leg
to
climb
inside,
Storm
swept
her
into
his
arms
and
placed
her
inside
on
the
seat.
He
then
climbed
in
and
shut
the
door.

As
the
coach
lurched
forward,
anticipation
and
sexual
desire
the
likes
he
had
never
known
before
gripped
him
and
he
could
think
of
only
one
thing
that
could
relax
him.

He
paused,
wondering
if
he
had
lost
his
mind
and
then

quickly
decided
that
he
had.
There
wasn’t
a
damn
thing
he
could
do
about
it.
He
would
worry
about
the
consequences
of
his
actions
tomorrow.
He
was
too
far
gone
tonight.

He
glanced
over
at
Jayla
where
she
sat
on
the
other
side
of
the
seat.
The
interior
lighting
provided
him
with
barely

enough
illumination
to
see
her
features,
but
he
heard
her

breathing
and
it
was
coming
out
as
erratic
as
his
own.

“Come
here,
Jayla.”

She
met
his
gaze
before
sliding
across
the
seat
to
him.
He

curved
his
hand
about
her
neck
and
drew
her
to
him.

Leaning
forward,
he
captured
the
lips
he
had
been
dying
to
taste
for
over
ten
years.
He
took
possession
and
staked
his
claim.
He
couldn’t
help
himself.

He
felt
the
shiver
that
flowed
from
her
body
to
his
when
she
surrendered
her
tongue
to
his.
He
took
his
time
to
savor

what
she
offered,
relentlessly
mating
his
mouth
with
hers
as
he
tried
to
satisfy
what
seemed
to
be
an
endless
hunger.

Her
taste
was
like
a
drug
and
he
felt
himself
getting

addicted
to
it
as
his
controls
were
pushed
to
the
limit,

wanting
more
and
determined
to
get
it.
He
lapped
up
every
moan
she
made
while
glorying
in
the
feel
of
her
kissing
him
back.

He
deepened
the
kiss
and
she
proved
that
she
could

handle
him,
tongue
for
tongue,
lick
for
lick,
stroke
for
stroke.
It
seemed
that
he
had
also
tapped
a
hunger
inside
of
her

that
she
hadn’t
fed
in
a
while.
He
intensified
the
kiss,

knowing
she
wanted
him
as
much
as
he
wanted
her.

They
felt
a
jolt
when
the
coach
came
to
a
stop
and
they

broke
off
the
kiss,
pulling
apart.
He
glanced
out
the
window,
then
glanced
back
at
her.
They
were
at
the
hotel.
Would
she
change
her
mind
or
would
they
finish
what
they’d
started?

Knowing
the
decision
was
hers,
he
leaned
over
and
placed
a
kiss
on
her
lips.
“What
do
you
want,
Jayla?”
he
asked,
his
breath
hot
and
ragged
against
her
ear.
He
hoped
and

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