War of Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 2)

He picked me up from work as promised and it’s safe to say he’s looking forward to this date as much as I am. And full props to the man; he’s waited patiently for me for an hour and a half while I got ready.

With one last deep breath and one last fluffing of my hair, I leave my bedroom and join him in the living room where he’s on my couch watching TV. He hears me before I’ve barely stepped foot in the room. When he turns to me, it’s like all the air in my lungs is released and I can’t find more.

He looks at me with the kind of raw hunger I’ve never seen in a man’s eyes.

It’s carnal, and it matches every wild desire I have for him.

He stands and comes my way, letting his gaze roam over every inch of me, lingering on my legs. When he finds my eyes again, he rasps, “You are so fucking beautiful, Zara.”

I reach out and grip his arm, needing to steady myself after his words hit me full force. He makes me feel more beautiful than I already feel. Smiling, I say, “Thank you.” Then, letting go of him, I say, “Where are you taking me tonight? I mean, I hope you weren’t planning on paintball or something. This dress isn’t made for that.”

He drops his eyes to my body again. “The only thing this dress was made for is the floor.” Meeting my gaze again, he says, “I’m taking you to Black Betty.”

The butterflies flutter harder in my stomach.

Fury chose a vegan restaurant for our first date.

This man is lethal. As in, he turned up wearing blue jeans and a black long-sleeve fitted shirt that hugs those muscles of his in ways that are dangerous to women; he gave me all the time in the world to get ready, without complaint; he made me feel all woman with his appreciation for my beauty; and he’s chosen to take me to a place he knows I’ll like rather than to a place he would prefer.

I step close to him and place a hand on his chest. “I’ve just deleted your ‘asshole’ column.”

He hisses and curls a hand around my neck. “For the record, I want my mouth on yours, but I won’t ruin your lipstick because you spent too fucking long on it. Also, for the record, I appreciate that lipstick, but you don’t need it. You’re beautiful even when you’re throwing up on me.”

Oh. My.

Lethal.

It will be a miracle if I make it through dinner without ripping his clothes off.

I press the button for the lift up to my level and wait with Fury for it to arrive. I’m an achy mess of need after dinner. I barely noticed how amazing the food was because I couldn’t take my eyes off my man. He picked up on every second of my inability to focus and only killed me more with a hand to my knee and a finger to my lips every now and then

. Not to mention the way he looked at me all night; that shit should be illegal.

The ride home was excruciatingly slow. When I thought he’d take the opportunity to touch me, he didn’t. The fact he’s restraining himself so damn much is forcing my anticipation to unbearable levels. Every action he’s taken and every word he’s said has shown me how much he wants me, but besides the few times he’s touched me, he’s held himself back.

The lift arrives and we step inside. Again, he doesn’t make a move. He stands next to me, keeping his hands and mouth to himself. Maybe he’s still worried about triggering me, but I’m as far from triggered as someone can get. Seriously, as soon as we reach my apartment, I’ll throw myself at him if I need to.

As we step out onto my level, he places his hand to the small of my back. My body sighs at the touch, but it’s nowhere near enough.

My apartment is at the end of the hallway and I practically run to it.

I unlock the door and we step inside.

I place my clutch on the counter and turn to Fury.

And holy mother of God, what I see in his eyes consumes every sense I have.

Pure masculine need radiates from him.

And he can’t hold himself back a second longer.

One hand slides around my waist while his other one goes to the back of my leg. Lifting it up to curl around his body, he presses me against the kitchen counter and lays me back along it. His erection is a hard length to my core as he bends with me and brings his mouth to my chest. Kissing my breasts through my dress, his hands glide up over my body and he brings them to my breasts too.

I wrap both legs around him and arch up off the counter as he gives me what I want: his hands and mouth on my body.

“Fuck,” he rasps, lifting his head to meet my gaze.

Needing desperately to be closer to him, I grip his biceps and pull myself up. His arms go around me and he slides me along the counter until our bodies meet.