Unleashing the Storm (33 page)

She
didn’t tell him she’d found the weapons. He was already on edge because she’d
rearranged a lot of his furniture. The last straw had come when he found what
she’d done to their bedroom. His roar of “
Kiiiiiraaaaa
” still rang in
her ears. But geez, a bed should always sit at an angle that would allow the
light of the moon to fall across the pillows. Besides, he refused to give up
his side of the bed, and she needed to be close to the bathroom. As her body
adjusted to the ended heat, she always experienced fluctuations in systemic
function, and right now, she had to pee all the time.

Tom
had flipped out about the bedroom, which meant that he got all surly and shut
himself away in his den, but two hours later, when she interrupted whatever he
was doing on the computer in order to have sex on his desk, he seemed over it.

In
fact, he’d been relatively pleasant for an entire day since then. He’d even
challenged her to a game of Risk last night, and though he handed her ass to
her on a plate, he’d grudgingly admitted that her ruthlessness took him by
surprise. He’d also said he admired that in a woman.

She
was still beaming about that compliment.

“Why
are you smiling?”

She
looked up from where she sat on a blanket in his backyard, and smiled even
bigger. “I’m just happy that you decided to join me.”

“I
didn’t think I had a choice,” he muttered, as he sank down across from her. He
bent one long, jeans-clad leg up and braced his forearm casually across his
knee as he eyed the food she’d set out.

“Oh,
stop your grousing. You needed this.”

“I
needed a picnic?”

“Yes.”
She handed him an avocado club sandwich with barbecued tempeh. Thankfully he’d
taken her grocery and clothes shopping, because he’d had nothing but junk food
in the house, and very little she could eat. “You said you never go to your
company picnics, and everyone needs to picnic sometimes. Besides, it’s so
beautiful out here.”

She
inhaled a deep breath of country air, made sweet by the balsam and spruce trees
that surrounded the house on three sides and created a cocoon of privacy. Well,
privacy for Tom…anyone approaching from any angle would be spotted by the
extensive camera system along the perimeter of his property. Only one corner at
the rear of the house was exposed, his land butting up against a vast field full
of horses with whom she’d already become acquainted.

“You
should see it in the winter,” he said. “With snow covering everything, it looks
like a painting. Something from a Dickens novel.”

“Christmas
would be so magical.” She could picture it, a giant tree in his front window,
deer in the yard…She wanted to be here for that. Wanted to make love under the
Christmas tree, with only the lights and a fire to cut the darkness. For once,
she wanted to wake up on Christmas morning with someone with whom she could share
breakfast and open presents.

Eventually,
she wanted to experience Christmas with Tom and their offspring.

For
the first time, she allowed herself to think on the possibility. Before, with
no hope of a mate to help her care for them during her heats, having children
seemed like a pipe dream. But now…

“You’re
doing it again.”

She
blinked. “What?”

“Smiling.”

“Oh.”
She poured a glass of sparkling cider for her, and a glass of wine for him.
“Sorry.”

“It’s
okay. You’re beautiful when you smile.” A touch of pink colored his cheeks,
which looked good on him because he’d been so pale lately.

Avoiding
her gaze, he took a bite of his sandwich. “Not bad,” he said, after he
swallowed.

Thank
God he’d liked—or pretended to like—much of what she’d prepared, because she’d
been cooking like she was preparing for a winter hibernation. With no animals
to care for, she’d been cleaning, cooking and baking—fruit cobblers, nut tarts,
cookies. Poor Tom said he was going to gain a hundred pounds.

She
doubted that. The man worked out for several hours each day, as evidenced by
his ripped body, so iron hard, with layers of muscle on muscle and no hint of
fat anywhere.

They
finished their meal in comfortable silence, and when Tom was done, he stretched
out on his back and tucked an arm behind his head. “Thank you,” he said. And
then he cocked his head and watched her until she squirmed. “Something’s
different about you.”

Oh,
God. If he knew she’d been faking her heat…She broke out in a cold sweat.
“What’s different?”

“I
don’t know.” He reached out, trailed the back of his hand over her hip, her
waist, her belly. “You seem softer.”

“Softer?”
Pushing his hand away, she said, “You take that back, Tom Knight.”

Suddenly,
she found herself on her back, pinned, and Tom was stroking her hair as he
looked down at her with heavy-lidded eyes that were bluer than the sky above.
“Softer.”

“I’ll
show you soft,” she growled, hooking her leg over his back like she did with
her tigers, and flipped him so she straddled his hips and held him down with her
palms on his shoulders.

“You’re
good,” he murmured, circling her waist with his big hands. “But not good
enough.”

Then
she was stomach-down on the blanket, with Tom’s knee pressed gently into the
small of her back. They’d mated less than two hours ago, and though she no
longer needed him, she wanted him. This playful side took her by surprise, gave
her warm fuzzies…and was a serious turn-on.

“Tommy?
Please…you’re hurting me.”

Instantly,
he lifted off her. “God, Kira, I’m sorry.”

She
laughed and leaped to her feet. “Sucker.”

“You
little—”

She
didn’t hear the rest, because she was off and running. The grass felt good
beneath her bare feet, and the wind in her face washed away all her problems.
She heard him behind her, and she dodged right then left, the gazelle evading
the cheetah. He missed her, cursed, and then suddenly she was rolling on the
ground with him again.

“Took
you long enough,” she panted when they came to a halt at the base of a gentle
slope.

He
frowned a little before settling fully between her legs. She yielded to him,
welcomed his weight. “Yeah, but I have you now.”

His
erection burned against her belly, and the intensity in his eyes lit her from
the inside.

Images
of the night she’d tried to run from him at the refuge flashed through her mind.
She’d been scared, angry…and at the same time, horny as hell.

This
was so similar, and yet so different. There was no fear, no anger. Just a warm
sense of rightness and a whole lot of arousal.

“Make
love to me,” she murmured, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders before she
ran her hand down his back, feeling the raw power of the muscles rippling
beneath her palm.

His
body went taut. “It’s not time.”

“So?”
She arched up, caught his hips between her thighs so the hard ridge of his
erection rubbed her mound.

“Two
hours.” With a long, luxurious sweep of his hand, he caressed her hip, her
waist and rib cage, worked upward until he brushed the swell of her breast with
his thumb. God, how this man affected her even when she was no longer in
season. She loosened up, spread her legs wider to accommodate even more of him.

“Think
how good it’ll be then,” he said. “After we’re that much more worked up.”

“I
don’t want to wait.” She reached up, cupped his cheek. “You don’t either,” she
whispered.

He
hesitated, and then his mouth tightened into a grim slash. “No, dammit.” He
pushed to his feet. “I agreed to keep you alive. I didn’t agree to fuck you at
your whim.”

He
stalked off, and she just sat there, smiling, because despite his harsh words,
she knew the truth.

Tom
didn’t refuse her because he didn’t want her. He refused her because he
did
want her—and having sex outside her rigid schedule might just force him to
admit it.

GLANCING
UP AT THE CLOCK, Kira realized that just over four hours had passed since Tom
had thoroughly and luxuriously mated with her in the shower—the things that man
could do with soap and a flexible showerhead—and he’d be expecting her to
pounce any moment now. She padded through the hall toward the spare bedroom
he’d turned into an exercise room, leaving a trail of clothing as she went.

By
the time she reached the door, she was nude. Her stomach churned with guilt,
but the pulse between her legs canceled out any regrets she might have over
deceiving him. She might not be in heat anymore, but her body still grew hot
and tingly when she thought about Tom.

The
rhythmic sound of pumping weights made her pulse jump—the sight of Tom’s
muscles bunching and flexing beneath glistening, tan skin would be a picture to
commit to memory. Tense with anticipation and a strange nervousness now that
her hormones were in control, she opened the door.

Oh,
my. She knew he’d be a sight, but he was more than that. Lying on his back on a
weight bench, wearing only shorts, he was a thing of beauty. Veins bulged on
top of straining muscles as he lowered the weights to lock them in place, and
his abs rippled as he sat up and watched her with hooded eyes.

He
didn’t bother to ask if it was time; he simply stood and shed the shorts. Heart
quivering with lust and anxiety, she let her gaze travel from his face to his
chest, then lower, over his stomach, hips, to the erection that jutted
magnificently from the thatch of tawny hair between his legs.

She
ignited. Burned. Needed him like she needed to breathe, and as she moved toward
him, she let all her instincts take over. Let them erase her trepidation, let
them guide her in the taking of a mate so he’d know without a doubt that he was
hers.

Every
step stirred her passion higher as her thighs slid against each other and his
gaze grew hotter. The pull she’d felt at the training facility, the one that
had seemed to call to him, tightened, tugged like a direct line from her center
to his.

Mine.

“Are
you ready for me,
Ender
?”

Surprise
flickered in his eyes, followed by a spark of anger. “Tom.”

“They
call you Ender at work.”

“
You
call me Tom.”

Happiness
stirred her heart. She doubted he allowed many people to call him by his given
name. She stopped so close she could feel his heat, but they didn’t touch.

“You
aren’t in the mood to be ordered around, are you?”

He
looked down at her, his eyes sparking with both fire and ice. “No.”

“Well,
I’m in the mood to call the shots.”

“Then
we have a problem.”

Another
case of nerves unsettled her stomach, but she breathed deeply, remembering her
goal. Her entire future rode on making him hers.

Planting
her palms on his chest, she stroked upward and moved in so her breasts kissed
his skin. The scent of his workout, salty, musky, rose to her nostrils, and she
inhaled, let his wild, earthy smell invade her senses.

His
cock skimmed her belly, and already liquid had formed at the tip, left a cool,
prickling trail of wetness across her navel.

He
had yet to touch her, engaged as they were in a battle of wills, so she dropped
her hands to thread her fingers in his. He cocked an eyebrow, clearly unsure of
her intentions.

Leaning
back, she bent her knees and tugged him down to the floor. He sank easily to
his knees, and when she was on her back with him on all fours over her, she
shimmied out from underneath him.

“Kira?”

“Shh.”
She stood. Left him confused and on his hands and knees. When he would have
pushed to his feet, she grasped his hair and stepped into him so his face met
the aching apex between her legs. “You know what I want.”

Know
me. Never forget.

A
long heartbeat passed. The scent of his arousal drifted to her, but also the
sharper, more acrid aroma of confusion. She doubted he was even aware of why he
hesitated, but she knew. She was asking him to bond with her, to learn her
scent, her flavor, her touch, so thoroughly that no other woman would ever
suffice.

Fire
burned in her lungs, and she realized she’d been holding her breath.
Please,
Tom.
Then he closed his mouth over her, and she threw back her head as the
hot stab of his tongue penetrated her slit.

“Yes,”
she whimpered. “Oh, Tommy, yes.”

“Open
for me.” His voice was a rough, dominant growl and she wondered when she lost
control of the situation, because she immediately spread her legs and drove her
hand down, parting her swollen flesh for his invading tongue.

Her
juices flowed, warm, thick, and he lapped at her like he couldn’t get enough.
She spread herself wider with her fingers, grasped his hair with her other hand
and arched into his mouth. Closer. She needed him closer.