Текст книги "Storm"

Автор книги: Jo Raven

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My blood’s running hot in my veins, and my mouth waters. I wonder how he might taste. How fast he’ll get hard. What sounds he’ll make when I lick and suck on him.

Dammit, Ray. How am I ever going to talk coherently to him and tell him what I need to say if he short-circuits my every sense?

Doing my best not to make noise, I step closer and study his sleeping form, that muscled chest with the thorns and roses licking his sides, the powerful shoulders, the long, sinewy legs.

A scar I didn’t notice last night or this morning, busy with other things, catches my attention. It’s on his left hip, a deep gash once, now an angry red welt with the marks of stitches. It doesn’t look that old. Older than the one in his side, perhaps, but not by much.

What the hell did that to him?

My hand lifts of its own volition, hovering over the scar. I itch to touch him all over, feel those beautiful muscles under my fingertips, under my lips. Didn’t get a chance last night. He was in charge, and it was smoking hot, but now he’s laid out in front of me like a buffet.

And this is all new to me. New and amazing. My handful of sexual explorations were quick one-night stands that ended before day dawned. Never got the chance to observe a guy like this, lying before me naked and gorgeous. Never got the time to think up wicked things to do to him.

Like see if I can wake him up slowly, one lick at a time. If I can make him hard before he even realizes he isn’t dreaming.

Bold move, Ray. Bold move. But, hey, live a little. Life isn’t only guns and bullets.

I grin, then bend over him and lick a path from his exposed sac to the tip of his cock. Salty. Slightly sweet. I sweep my tongue again along his length, and take him in my mouth.

His taste explodes on my tongue, more bitter than I expected, with a hint of spice. I suck on him and feel him grow, forcing my mouth wider. He’s thickening, lengthening. Hardening.

A thrill ripples through me. My breasts ache, my nipples stiffening as I mouth his growing erection. He groans deep inside his throat, his hand curling into a fist against his chest. His hips rock up a little, pushing his cock into my mouth. His lashes flutter against his cheeks, his eyes moving under the pale lids. His head rolls to the side, and he mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

He’s still swelling, already hard as steel, and he’s so big now I can’t even take half of him into my mouth. Wrapping a hand around the base, I give an experimental swirl with my tongue under the head of his cock, and he arches back, moaning out loud.

“What the...?” He’s staring down at me now, eyes wide. His hand lifts, reaching for me. “Ray?”

I move my mouth down and back up, dragging my lips over his hard shaft, my hand at the base mirroring the movement.

He hisses, and his hand lands on my head, fingers tangling in my loose hair. “Fuck…” His hips lift again, shoving more of his hard-on into my mouth, and I choke a little. He stills, but I don’t stop sucking on him, and he moans out my name. “This is… hot damn, babe. Oh yeah.”

I doubt he knows what he’s saying right now, or the way his body moves in rhythm with my motions, thighs tensing when I reach the head of his cock and play with it with my tongue.

I want to make him lose control, come in my mouth. I want to see his powerful body shaking with pleasure.

I want to shake his world like he did mine.

STORM

I’m dreaming of a pretty dark-haired girl teasing my dick. Her eyes sparkle up at me as she runs her fingers over it, stroking its length, taking it in her hand. I’m tense with need. I can feel myself hardening, and a sweet ache enters my balls. I want her to suck on my cock, to wrap those pretty lips around it.

She smiles at me, tells me something about a cat—Horatio, she says. She left her cat behind. So she’ll pet me instead. She’d like to keep me.

Yes, Goddammit, yes. Please keep me. Hold me.

Suck me, baby.

She licks her lips and bends over me, taking my cock into her mouth. Hot. So hot. My hips buck, and she sucks me in deeper, her tongue massaging the head.

So fucking good. So tight. My dick twitches and jerks, and my balls lift. So close. So fucking close, and…

My eyes fly open.

The girl is right there, between my legs, sucking on my cock. Pretty. Smoking hot, with those dark hair and sultry eyes that get me every time, looking up at me.

Raylin. It’s Raylin.

And she’s sucking. On. My. Dick.

Whoa.

My sleep-addled brain is slow and fuzzy. My thoughts trip over one another, and when she swirls her tongue on the underside of my dick, the pleasure goes off the fucking charts, blowing my mind. I actually see bright spots exploding in my vision.

Then she takes me deeper in her mouth, and my body jerks, as if touched by a live wire. She drags her lips up and down, her tongue pressing underneath, licking at my dick like a lollipop.

“Ungh.” My brain is sparkling, imploding. My body tightens and clenches, the pressure in my balls reaching critical mass. I’m about to explode, and she’s still looking at me, her sweet mouth wrapped around my cock. My fingers are in her hair, holding on tight. I try to push her off me. “Fuck, I’m gonna…”

She moans deep in her throat, the vibrations hitting me like a sonic blast, and there’s no holding back anymore. No way in hell. My stomach contracts, and I bow over her, my balls clenching and dick surging in her mouth, jerking and erupting in scorching jets.

“Goddamn…” I grit my teeth, riding another swell of pleasure as it rises. I come and come in the velvet vise of her mouth, and she swallows it all.

Fuck me, that’s hot. So hot I can’t seem to stop coming. The muscles in my thighs tremble when I finally slump back, thumping my skull on the headboard and barely feeling it.

Jesus F. Christ.

She releases my limp dick and wipes a hand over her mouth. In a daze, I reach for her, worried she might bolt, that she didn’t enjoy it after all.

“Come here,” I croak, and she smiles at me, all pleased and shit, like the cat who ate the cream. A fitting image, one that brings back flashes of her mouth around me and has my cock trying—in vain—to stir again.

Yeah. No chance in hell.

Then she lies down next and presses her awesome curves to me, and all bets are off. I lean in and kiss her, tasting myself on her tongue, and damn if need doesn’t curl in my gut again, tightening my balls.

I moan, arousal hammering my insides. Yeah, just gimme a minute.

She cups my face, grinning in the kiss, and I’m gone. A goner. I can only breathe her in, taste her, hold on to her. She makes me smile. All the fucking time. I can’t remember smiling so much in years.

What the fuck’s happening to me? The weird funk I’ve been in is weakening its hold on me. I could spend years in this bed with her, I think, and my dick gives an enthusiastic twitch at the thought.

But she breaks the kiss and draws back. Before I can protest, she puts a hand over my mouth. “Storm, we need to talk.”

Not exactly what was on my mind, but she has a determined glint in her eye, and I remind myself I want to know more.

I tell my dick to suck it up and wait.

“Okay,” I say against her fingers, and she shivers. “Talk.”

“You may kick me out when I tell you,” she whispers, and some of the steel leaves her gaze. Now she looks apprehensive. “See, things are a lot worse than I let on.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I figured that.” I mock-bite her fingers, and she puts her hand down on my chest. “I also figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“I told you I believe you.” And I do, for some strange reason. Maybe it’s because she can’t lie to save her life. Her face is an open book. And she’s telling me the truth.

“Why aren’t you running yet, Storm?” She sounds intrigued and a little put out at my lack of reaction.

So I tell her the truth. My truth.

“Baby, I’ve seen lot of bad in my life, and you aren’t it. Even before I left home and crashed into the underworld, I saw plenty of that going down—dirty deals and blackmailing, backstabbing, takeovers that destroyed lives and agreements that tore families apart. It’s a tough world. I saw people go to jail for deeds they didn’t commit. Why do you think I left? Corruption, greed, power. These things turn people crazy. And compared to all that…”

I shake my head and look straight into her eyes, letting her see I’m being honest. “You’re gold, Ray. You’re clean. You’re funny, and sexy, and goddamn pretty, but above all, you’re a good person. You think I didn’t notice how you barely used anything in the house you broke into? That you didn’t steal and sell anything? That you went out in the storm to save me, and that you want to protect me?”

She bites her lip and breaks her gaze, staring down at her hand that’s splayed over my heart.

“You really mean that,” she says, and yeah, I do.

And then the oddest thing happens. Her eyes fill up. Bright, glittering tears that spill over her flushed cheeks, and fuck me, she’s breaking me. Shattering me.

“Damn well I do.” I wipe her tears with my thumb, and more spill out. I let them soak into my skin and then lift my hand to my mouth and taste their saltiness. “And I’d rather lose trying to win you, rather than let you go without a fight.”

There you go. This is my truth. This girl will be the death of me, and I don’t fucking care.

Chapter Seven

RAYLIN

What’s happening to me? I’m strong. I’m tough. Nothing has managed to break me, not my crappy family, not the dangerous men sent after me, not even leaving everything and everyone behind, time after time.

So why did his words make me cry?

Not just his words, I remind myself. The faith behind them. The faith in me.

Damn this guy. He hasn’t just pulled down my walls, he has crushed them and stomped on them. Ridiculous. I barely know him. I may know how he tastes and what sounds he makes as he comes, how he looks naked and aroused, or relaxed in sleep, but that’s not…

Yeah, that’s not enough, right? Not enough for me to fall head over heels for Storm, and yet I have. This can’t end well…

No relationship in my life has lasted. None of the good ones, anyway. God knows my dad’s ghost is after me every single day as I run and hide.

See, I just never learn. And it doesn’t matter. I’m going to tell him everything, even as he tastes my tears and holds me close. Comforting me, as I’m about to drop a bomb on him.

“Storm…” I’m getting to love his name. Never knew anyone called Storm before. “Listen. This is bad.”

He takes my hand off his chest and kisses the center of my palm. “I’m so scared.”

“You should be.” I roll my eyes at his grin. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

God, this guy… So cute, but he doesn’t realize just how bad this is. “My family owes a lot of money. My dad and my brother, they’ve always worked together. Petty conmen, rounding up their victims in bars and rundown dives, rigging card games and spewing lies to clean everyone’s pockets. Nothing too big. It worked well. We moved from town to town for years, and nobody ever knew who we were.”

I close my eyes, trying to hide from this. His hand is under my chin, tilting it up. Forcing me to look at him as I speak.

“Then what changed?”

“Everything changed.” I swallow hard, my mouth dry. “One of his victims wasn’t as stupid as the others. Pissed as hell, he tracked us down and came at us with a gun. Mom got in the way. He shot her down. She died on the spot.”

“Fuck.” Storm’s hand moves to my cheek, my jaw, so gentle. “I’m sorry, Ray.”

“She didn’t really know what he did. He fed her lies for years, about selling second-hand cars, and she never questioned him. I never questioned him.” My breath is stuck in my throat. “She trusted him, and it got her killed. I trusted him, and I’m on the run for my life.”

Most of this is true.

“Hell. This is fucked up.” His hand moves to my hair, tugging. I love the slight sting of pain. It allows me to take another breath.

A good thing, too, because I’m far from done.

“Dad changed after that. You’d think he’d stop conning people, that he’d decide to take up a legal job. Set his son straight. Set me straight. Make sure Mom’s fate wouldn’t befall us.” He opens his mouth to speak, and I rush to finish, before I lose my nerve. “He changed for the worse. He started drinking and gambling what little money we had. And then he had to get loans to pay of his debts, and the idiot got involved with the mafia.”

His eyes narrow. His nostrils flare. “The Mob?”

Does it matter which one? “Triad.”

“Chinese mafia. Which group?”

“Black Dragons.”

“Motherfucker.” His hand tightens in my hair, and I wince. Immediately he lets go and strokes his hand down my face. “So he owes them money?”

“A lot.” I nod. “He owes them a couple million, and they think I have the money. They think I’ve stashed it somewhere. And I don’t have anything.”

His hand falls away. Shadows pass behind his eyes, darkening them. “Shit.”

Yeah. Exactly. “These are dangerous guys. And they’re after me.”

He gathers me closer, puts both arms around me. But we both know what comes next. I wait for it, but he’s silent, resting his chin on top of my head.

“Now you see,” I whisper.

“See what?”

Fresh years well up in my eyes. “Why I should leave.”

“Goddammit, Ray. I said I’d fight for you. And I will.”

I’m too shocked to speak. Is he for real?

“We’ll find a way out of this,” he goes on fiercely, and yeah, his heart beats strong. No lies. He believes it. “Together. Fuck the world and its unfairness. I won’t let these thugs hurt you.”

Finding such money would be impossible, so… “You’ll run away with me?” I whisper, incredulous.

“If that’s what it takes,” he says, softly this time, and I lie in stunned silence, waiting for his words to sink in.

Even if the rest of my life remains the same—fraud with danger and always on the run—at least I have this.

And it means the world to me.

***

Later, we go down to the kitchen, and he toasts the defrosted baguettes in the oven while I cut up the cheese and ham. We keep our conversation to the weather. Another storm is approaching, the wind banging at the windows and stirring the ocean. A safe topic.

We haven’t spoken a single word about my revelations in the bedroom upstairs and his response. Maybe he’s already changed his mind. Maybe he just realized the danger.

I wouldn’t blame him. And I don’t know what else to do. Telling him the truth was as far as my plan went. Now it’s up to him to throw me out or not.

I watch him pull out the toasted baguettes from the oven with a pair of mitts. I just can’t… This is surreal.

Hey, Storm, I have paid hitmen from the Chinese mafia after me. I owe them a few million dollars.

Excellent. Now let’s make some sandwiches, drink coffee and talk about the weather.

Holy crap, this is screwing with my head. Dropping the knife on the table, I shoot up from my chair and head out.

“Ray!” I hear dishes clattering and a curse, then he’s right behind me as I open the door. “You okay?”

I push the door and step outside, coming to stand by the pool. I’m shaking. I don’t know what to do with myself. I thought I knew what to do next. What I should do. I had my plan, but I don’t want to go.

Storm’s frowning at me from the doorstep, one hand clasped to the back of his neck. His eyes meet mine, and I turn away, toward the sea, a blue reflection beyond the fence.

I want to trust him. I need reassurance. I need him to promise he’s with me.

And that scares me to death. Who am I anymore? Since when do I need someone to stay with me and look after me? Not to abandon me.

Stupid, Ray.

“What’s going on?” he finally asks, and I know he’s approaching me. “Ray, talk to me. Is there someone else after you?”

“No.” I gasp when his arms wrap around me. “I swear.”

“I believe you.”

Again. Just like that. “Suspicion can save your life.”

He says nothing, his arms tensing minutely. “I agree. But I’m not suspicious of you. I told you.”

He did. His words are still ringing in my ears, warming up my heart.

Trust him, Ray.

Trying. I’m trying.

“I told you I was in a car crash four months ago,” he says and turns me in his arms, then drags me back until we land on a chaise-lounge, him lying on his back, and me sprawled on top of him. He laughs at my squeal of surprise. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah.” Strangely, I am. I’m sort of straddling him, my knees drawn up at his hips, my breasts mashed to his hard chest, my head resting on his padded shoulder. “What about the crash?”

“I’m not sure it was an accident.”

I tense and try to sit up, but his arms lock around me, keeping me plastered to him. “Please, stay.” His heart booms. “I like having you here, like this, in my arms. Makes me feel everything will be okay.”

So I settle back down, inhaling, drawing in his scent. “I like it, too.” And I’m curious as all hell. “So… not an accident?”

His hands move up and down my back, and it feels so good my lids grow heavy. “The police said it was. That the other driver was drunk. He came out of the blue, on an empty highway, and smashed into us.”

“And wasn’t he drunk?”

“We don’t know. Nobody knows. He crashed into the side of our car so hard we skidded across the highway. He should have been knocked out, but he obviously wasn’t. He drove away.”

“You’re shitting me.” I look up at his face, not drowsy at all anymore. “He just drove away?”

“Yeah.” He chews on the inside of his cheek. “We were in my car. Normally I’m the one driving. But that day I let a friend drive because I had to go through some documents on the way. My friend died on the spot. It would’ve been me on any other day.”

A chill hits me. “That’s crazy. But it might have been a coincidence. All of it.”

His lips flatten into a thin line. “That’s what everyone says.” He frowns, gaze fixed somewhere over my head. “They say the same about the bullet, and the explosion.”

“What?” Now my eyes are bugging out of my head. “What are you talking about?”

“About nine months ago, I met up with a couple of old friends of mine in a bar. Our new tradition, since I returned home. We went there every Friday night. So that night, we met up like always, when a bar fight breaks out. Before I know it, bullets fly in our direction. One grazed my hip. Another my head.”

Jesus. “Where?” I reach up, and he guides my hand to the side of his head. Under his thick hair, I feel it. An upraised line. “Oh God.”

“My friends threw me to the floor, and we waited it out. No more shots were fired. Nobody was caught.”

“Shit.” I lower my hand, shaken. “That’s…”

“Crazy?” He chuckles, but it’s dry. “I know.”

“And the explosion?”

“Six months ago. In a restaurant. Apparently a gas stove exploded. Tables and chairs flew, mirrors and glasses broke.”

“Let me guess: for some reason on that day you sat further from the kitchen than usual?”

He shakes his head. “A guy toppled over me. I hit my head pretty hard on the floor, but he took the brunt of the explosion instead of me.”

I smile, my face a bit numb. “You’re lucky. I mean, in spite of everything.”

“I sure am. After all, I found you.”

Awh shucks… “Shut up.”

This time his chuckle is warm and sweet like melted caramel.

Meanwhile, his words are sinking into my brain like stones.

“Wait… you think someone is trying to kill you.”

He nods, falling quiet.

“This makes no sense. You said you haven’t done anything wrong.”

He shrugs. “I didn’t say it makes any fucking sense.”

“Accidents happen, and some can be pretty weird. Maybe you had a bad year, and now things will look up. Has anyone attacked you since the car crash?”

“No.” He licks his lips, glancing around. A nervous gesture. “But nobody knows where I am.”

“You’re hiding here.” I sigh. “I know I told you to be suspicious, but I doubt someone is after you for no reason.”

“Ray…” He closes his eyes, leans his head back, and he suddenly seems tired. Exhausted. “My uncle died a year ago, and I don’t think it was from natural causes.”

This time I sit up, and he lets me. I look down at him. “What are you saying?”

“I think he was murdered.”

STORM

No idea why the fuck I’m telling her of my suspicions. Nobody believes me. They think my uncle’s death affected me, made me paranoid.

Keeping a gun in the drawer of my bedside table, and another here, in the bathroom. Guns he taught me how to use. As if he knew all along our lives might be in danger.

I step under the shower and wash my self quickly and angrily.

Fucking Hawk. Fucking Rook. At least if they believed me…

Fuckers. If they weren’t my brothers in all but blood, if they hadn’t stuck with me through it all… Until I vanished. The tabloids wondered what happened, but my uncle’s well-oiled company machinery stepped in and an announcement was made that I was in Europe, for business.

That was the last news I read. I stocked the huge freezer in the basement of the beach house for food for a month, if not two, and hid. What for, I didn’t know.

I step out and grab a towel, rub my face dry. I guess my head was screwed on wrong, my every nerve end on edge. The first two weeks, I expected thugs to jump out of the bushes at any second and shoot me or knife me.

But nothing happened, and I began to relax. Jogging on the beach. Sitting outdoors. Swimming in the pool.

Until she arrived.

I stop in the process of rubbing a towel through my wet hair, leaving it standing on end. She arrived, and the world righted itself. With the need to protect her, I let go of my fear about my own life. And the sex is awesome.

It’s as if by burying myself in her body fixed my mind.

Yeah, I’m nuts. She’s right. Fucked up.

I throw the towel to the tiled floor and brace my hands on the granite sink, glaring at my foggy reflection in the full-length mirror. My scars don’t scare me anymore. Losing her scares me more. What that means… No idea, but it’s good enough for now. Good enough for me.

I reach for my shaving foam and cheap razor, bought at the Walmart where I bought everything I’d need to hole up in here.

A few million dollars. A triad.

Jesus.

I could pay off her debt. If I go back, I can do it.

That means going back to danger.

Unless it’s all in my mind.

Damn, what if she’s right? What if they’re all right? Coincidence. Probability. Maybe my mind is trying to find a pattern to explain it all, and there never was one to begin with.

What does it mean? Why am I even still alive? What for?

The door creaks as it opens, Raylin at the opening, dressed in her shorts and blouse, her face so sweet it leaves me speechless. Warmth spills inside my chest, and a smile tugs at my lips.

“Can I help you?” She gestures at the razor in my hand. “Help you shave.”

My hand trembles slightly as I pass her the razor and the shaving foam. “Be my guest.” I lean back against the granite counter and nod.

Three years I spent away from my uncle, from the company. Three years looking for myself and I couldn’t figure out what I needed. Now I come back, and here she is.

The one who takes away my fear of the future.