Riding the Storm (41 page)

With
a turgid nipple in his mouth, he let his hand drift between her legs, stroked
her sex through the fabric until her hips jerked and she was telling him to
take
the pants off of her now
.

"Bossy,"
he murmured as he unbuttoned and unzipped her pants.

"Proud
of it," she said, her breath hitching as he worked her other nipple in his
mouth.

"Stubborn
too," he said as he pulled the pants off her legs, along with her
underwear, leaving her exposed to him in the moonlight streaming through the
window.

"Yes,"
she said as his finger found her cleft and stroked it deftly. "Remy,
please…

"Yes,
bebe
, I will," he said. And even though he wanted to touch her,
taste her, dip his tongue into her heat and spend a long, leisurely night
making her come over and over, he was so fucking hard, he wanted—no, needed—to
be inside of her right now.

He
spread her thighs, groaned at how she managed to be so tight and so wet at the
same damned time and rocked his way into her gently, his mouth finding hers
again. Palms down on either side of her, his biceps shaking slightly as he took
her, keeping his strokes long and even so she stayed comfortable.

"I
can't get enough of you," he breathed against her mouth. "I don't
think I'll ever get my fill."

"Touch
me," she moaned, and he slide one of his hands between their bodies to
touch her core. The pad of his thumb stroked her clit, and she cried out, and
he was so close to the edge he could see flashes of light behind his eyelids.

He
pumped deeply inside her, her slick moisture creating a devastatingly hot
friction.

He
threw his head back, his teeth clenched, bared. A low, harsh rumble started
deep in his chest, and he was aware of the hot tingling electricity that shot
between them. Then he drove upward, and her hand rose to pull his mouth down to
hers, where his kiss muted her cries of pleasure.

Her
orgasm happened seconds before his, a deep rippling that threw him over the
edge with her, until he couldn't see and he could barely breathe and he let go
inside her, filling her with hot spurts of semen.

Moments
later, he caught his breath and realized he'd partially collapsed on her, his
cock still pulsing inside her, and he found himself wishing they could stay in
this position forever.

But
they couldn't, and he eased away gently and rolled next to her on the bed,
staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. Instinctively, his hand reached out
to touch her hip, began to trace the tattoo like he was drawing it, and he
wondered if it was always going to be this good.

"I
don't know what to do," he admitted finally. "I've never been really
close to anyone."

"You
just keep doing what you're doing, and I think we'll be just fine," she
said, her voice still slightly breathless as she leaned on her good side and
traced his tattoo with her finger in a way that mimicked what he was doing to
hers. "We'll figure it out together."

Together
. That had a really nice ring to it.

Outside,
the ground lightning continued to strike, as if Mother Nature agreed with
Haley. From now on, he'd be dealing with two women, and he wouldn't have it any
other way.

Somewhere
in the distance, thunder rolled, and Haley's heart stumbled.

Bundled
in a blanket on her front porch swing, she looked out at the building
cumulonimbus across the orchards surrounding her old farmhouse. The property,
five miles from ACRO headquarters, had been one of the agency's incentives to
sign on. Not that she'd needed incentives. The job was more than enough.

A
squeaky meow warned her a mere heartbeat before Geordie, the cat she'd rescued
from a shelter a few weeks ago, jumped into her lap. She stroked the purring
furball as she sipped her mulled cider, noting how flavorless it tasted, just
like everything lately. Even her favorite black walnut ice cream had become
bland and unexciting. She'd give anything for some jambalaya and cherry bounce
right about now.

Lightning
played tag between two dark clouds, and a low, menacing rumble of thunder
unraveled across the horizon, growing louder. Shivers spread over her skin,
reminding her of how it felt to touch Remy, how the very atmosphere between
them sparked and sizzled. How touching him was like grabbing a high-voltage
fence, but without the pain.

Fat
raindrops pelted the ground, and the apple trees bowed to an icy gust of wind
from the late-autumn storm, and she gathered the blanket more tightly around
her. Geordie'd had enough, and darted through the cat door into the house.

Squeezing
her eyes closed tight, Haley felt the breeze envelop her like one of Remy's
intimate embraces, and if she thought hard enough, she could almost smell the
extraordinary scent that was uniquely his, a combination of musk and man and
ozone, something only a meteorologist could appreciate.

Thunder
cracked, closer. A sane person would take shelter, but Haley remained where she
sat.

She
opened her eyes. The branches swayed, reaching for the low deck of storm
clouds. Dead leaves tumbled across the yard.

From
the wrong direction.

She
blinked. The storm had shifted, its base swirling in a rare clockwise rotation.
Below the base, a wall of rain had formed, and from out of the precipitation,
Remy emerged.

Her
heart went crazy. She stood, dropping the blanket. His intense blue eyes
captured hers. Her pulse drummed in her ears, drowning out the thunder that now
continued nonstop.

Remy
stopped five yards from the porch, and suddenly the storm died down, leaving
nothing but the soft whisper of light rain. Water ran in rivulets down his
black leather jacket, and his jeans were soaked, but he didn't seem to notice.
And, oh, he looked fine, bigger than she remembered. Stronger. More confident,
which was saying something, given that in the bayou he'd radiated a certain
arrogance. Now, after the first phase of his training, all traces of hesitation
were gone. He'd grown into his gift. Mastered it. Nothing would take him down.

They
stared at each other for a full minute before she swallowed dryly and said,
"I see you've learned a few things."

He
gave a sharp nod, flinging water droplets to the ground. "A few."
Lightning flashed in his eyes, and she realized none had flashed in the sky.

Even
so, thunder rumbled overhead.

"I've
missed you," she whispered. "Six weeks is a long time."

"Too
long, and I've only got twenty-four hours off, so come here."

She
ran to him and flung herself into his arms. Her heart kicked against her rib
cage, and through their layers of clothing, his heartbeat answered, thumping
against her chest in an identical rhythm.

Dipping
his head, he traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, and she felt the
distinct bulge of his erection against her belly. "You were right, Haley.
I needed ACRO. I needed you."

She
put a hand to his cheek and brought his gaze to hers. "I was always so
afraid of needing someone the way my mom did. I didn't want a man to define who
I was. So I substituted a career for a man, and without knowing it, I let my
job define me instead. I need you too, Remy. With you, I can be so much more
than a meteorologist." Going up on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips over
his. "I love you."

"Then
show me."

A hot
wash of need hummed through her veins, and she dropped her hands to his firm
butt and rocked against him, making clear exactly how she'd show him.
"Just try to stop me."

His
laughter rumbled deep in his chest, making her already hard nipples ache.
"Why would I do that?"

"No
idea." She moaned as he cupped her breasts and kneaded them between his
palms.

She
reached up, pulled his head down to her throat. "I want you to promise me
one thing," she said, throwing her head back so he could ravage her neck
with his mouth.

"Name
it."

The
rain had stopped. The air had gone still and had somehow gotten warmer. And in
the distance, over Remy's shoulder, a sliver of blue slashed the sky.
"Don't ever be afraid of hurting me. You know, during storm sex."

He
took a half step back, frowned at her. "Haley, it's safer to do it through
the tattoos."

"Now
that you've gained so much control over your gift, do you think your urges will
still be as strong as they were?"

He
looked stricken, like he should be ashamed, like he didn't want to divulge,
even to himself, that he hadn't mastered every aspect of his talent.
"Yes," he admitted, "but like I said, we can be apart now during
the worst of it, use the tattoos instead. I can control the urges that
way."

"But
Remy," she said, in a low, husky voice she barely recognized as her own,
"I don't want you to."

His
throat worked on a long, hard swallow. "Are you saying—"

She
shoved him, knocking him off balance, and while he stood there, stunned, his
erection straining against the front of his jeans, she wriggled out of her
T-shirt so fast, a seam split.

"Yeah,
I'm saying." She sauntered up to him, poked him in the chest hard enough
that he took a step back. "Don't you dare hold back. I won't break."
She lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes. "Give me all of you.
Everything."

The
next thing she knew, she was in Remy's arms, twirling in a sudden warm
downpour, and around them, lightning danced in the sky, circling them in a ring
above her house.

"It's
beautiful," she gasped. "What else can you do?"

"You
have no idea,
chere
." He nuzzled her neck, took her down hard to
the ground so that he was on top of her, his thigh between her legs, pressing
against her center, which needed him like she needed to breathe. And around
them, the air electrified a split second before a flash of in-cloud lightning
lit the sky—and stayed lit. "But I'm gonna show you. Are you ready?"

Her
whole body shuddered with pleasure. She looked into his eyes, intense and
filled with passion. She was ready.

Ready
to ride the storm.