War of Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 2)

“You don’t,” I agree. “I’ll make damn sure of it.”

We’re interrupted when the kids come running back in the room. A couple of minutes after that, Lily and Cade return home, and I’m left wondering what the fuck happened between last night and now to make Zara so damn open to me. Not that I’m complaining, but whatever it was, I need to know for future reference.

35

Zara

* * *

“You’ve been busy,” Fury says, eyeing my apartment after he drove me home from Mum’s.

“I have, but there’s a lot more still to do.” I dump my bag on the kitchen counter. “Thanks for driving me home.”

Noah races over to the couch. “We watch Bob!”

“No, buddy, we have to go home and get you some dinner,” Fury says.

Noah’s face crumples. “No!” He then proceeds to throw himself onto the couch and cry.

“Fuck,” Fury mutters softly, his tired eyes looking at me. “He hasn’t shut up about you since the other day. And now that you baked a cake with him, I’m fairly fucking sure his adoration is only gonna grow.”

“I think you’re imagining that adoration; we hardly spent any time together the other day.”

“You don’t know Noah,” he says, still talking softly so only I can hear him. “The kid falls in love far too fucking easily.” He swings his head in Noah’s direction. “Noah, we—”

I place my hand on his arm. “Stay for dinner. Let him watch some Bob here.” Fury looks so damn exhausted that I want to take some of his load if I can. No one wants to cook dinner when they’re this tired. Plus, since tossing and turning all night after he kissed me, I’ve come to the decision I’m going to see where this thing between us lead

s. I’m going to take a chance on him.

While Noah continues his tantrum, Fury glances back at me. “He’s not here for Bob. You realise that, right?”

“As in, he’s going to want me to hang out with him?”

“Yeah. You’re gonna be subjected to sitting on that couch with him, talking all things Bob.”

I smile. “I can handle that so long as you guys can handle a vegan dinner.”

“Fuck,” he mutters again, but his eyes betray the fact he’s cool with it. “This might be the end of his love affair with you.”

Laughing, I say, “You underestimate me. By the time I’m finished with him tonight, his love affair will have extended to my vegan-loving ways.”

Noah’s tantrum escalates the longer his father ignores it, so Fury leaves me to go take care of him. I watch them for a minute and then start pulling veggies out of my fridge for dinner. Once I’ve got them all chopped and loaded onto a baking dish with rosemary sprigs on top, I pop the dish into the oven and meet Fury’s gaze when he joins me again.

“Is Noah good?” I ask.

“Yeah, but fuck he’s tired. You wore him out today.”

I smile. “He’s such a good kid.” I put the oven timer on. “Okay, I’m gonna go change. If you guys want a drink or anything, just make yourself at home.”

Leaving him and Noah, I walk into my bedroom to find some clean clothes. Mine got a little dirty today with the kids. Locating some grey yoga pants and a big, loose knitted white jumper, I quickly change and drop my dirty clothes into the laundry basket. As I’m exiting the bathroom, Fury meets me in the hallway, and the way he’s looking at me causes my legs to stop moving and my core to go into overdrive.

Eyes to my body, he leans in close. “I love my son, but fuck me, I wish I had you all to myself tonight.” He backs me against the wall and slides his fingers through my hair, before dropping his lips to mine. My hands go to his hips and then up to his chest, an instinctual response I don’t spend a moment thinking about, and my body sighs with happiness as my lips move with his.

When he presses his erection against me, and I curl my leg around his, wanting nothing more than to get closer to him, I mentally thank my shrink who spent the past four years helping me work through all my sex issues after my rape. I still have my moments—that experience will forever shape me—but I have the tools now to cope with them. And holy hell, having Fury’s hands and mouth on me doesn’t flare anything but a whole lot more need.

“Fuck, Zara,” he murmurs, ending our kiss, but keeping his face close as he traces a finger over my lips. “I’ve spent four years imagining this, wondering if I was making shit up in my mind about just how fucking good it would feel to have you.” He kisses me again, lazily, like he wants to take all the time in the world with my mouth. When he comes up for air again, I’m blessed with a sexy smile and words that grab my heart and body all in one go. “Turns out I wasn’t even close to imagining how good you would feel.”

“Daddy! The TV’s broken,” Noah calls from the living room as butterflies do somersaults in my tummy.