Taming the Storm (The Storm 3)

“Are you deaf? I said, I’m not going anywhere with you!”

I’m pretty sure the whole club is staring at us right now. But I don’t give a shit.

The next thing I hear is this caveman growly sound coming from Tom. Then, I’m being lifted off the ground before being thrown over his shoulder.

“Argh!” I cry out. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he says, throwing my earlier words back at me. “You won’t come quietly, so I’m carrying your bitchy ass out of here.”

“Put me down, you lunatic!” I hit his back with my purse.

Then, I very quickly become aware of how short my dress is. I give the hem a sharp tug, making sure my ass is covered.

“No,” he grinds out.

“Psycho!”

“Drama queen.”

“Argh!” I scream again. “I hate you!”

“Yeah, so I keep hearing. Now, shut the hell up because you’re making a scene.” He slaps my ass.

My mouth drops open.

Arrogant asshole! I cannot believe he just told me to shut up and then slapped my ass.

I ignore the fact that in some other scenario—a bedroom one—that would have actually been really hot. I snap out between my gritted teeth, “You’re a fucking mut.” Then, for good measure, I hit his back with my purse again.

“Yeah, I keep hearing that, too.” He chuckles.

The vibration of it hits me in all my tingly places.

In this moment, I’m glad that it’s my ass in his face, so he can’t see the smile forcing its way onto my lips.

Tom jogs down the club steps before heading for the exit, carrying me like I weigh nothing at all.

If it wasn’t so embarrassing, it would be majorly hot.

I know people are staring at us, so I keep my head down and my eyes closed, praying he puts me down soon.

He whistles for a cab. I see one pull up. Tom opens the door and then dumps me on the backseat.

My ass hits the seat, my breath whooshing out with an oomph.

Tom climbs in next to me. “Fairmont,” he tells the driver.

The cab pulls out into traffic.

I shift in my seat to face Tom.

It’s a long moment before he turns his head to look at me. “What?”

“What!” Giving him an incredulous look, I jerk a hand between us. “Are you gonna explain to me what the hell that was all about?”

Grabbing my hand, he holds it up, presses his palm flat against mine, and then links our fingers.

My heart stutters.

A ghost of a smile touches his lips, making him more handsome, if that were possible. “I know you like public shows, Firecracker, but this isn’t the place. We’ll talk about it when we get to the hotel.”

Then, he looks ahead. Sitting here, I’m stunned by everything that has just taken place. But mostly, I’m just speechless from the feel of his hand holding mine.

Knowing I don’t want to give him a reason to let go, I don’t say a word the entire ride back to the hotel.

Fifteen Minutes Later—Fairmont Hotel, Pittsburgh

Keeping a firm hold of my hand, Tom leads me through the plush lobby of the Fairmont and straight into a waiting elevator. He presses the button for the twenty-third floor—his floor, I’m guessing. My room is on the fifteenth floor.

Feeling defiant, I lean over and punch the button marked fifteen.

The next thing I know, his hard body is pressing into mine, backing me up. I have no other choice but to go where he wants, and I end up against the wall of the elevator.

I try to steel myself against the mouthwatering scent of him and the erection I can feel pressed into my stomach. But my body is in control, and my body loves Tom Carter.

Desire explodes in my belly and trembles its way through me.

Tom’s hands come up to either side of my head, caging me in.

His lips hover over mine. His eyes darken, becoming pools of lust.

Holy fuck.

“You get off on your floor, and you and me are gonna have an even bigger problem than we already have.” He licks his lips.

I’m distracted by the sight. It only serves to increase the pressure I feel between my thighs.

“We need to talk, and going by our track record, it might get…loud.” His eyes flash another meaning, sending a shiver to race through my body. “Your room is next to Cale’s, but mine is the only one up there, so no one will hear us.”

He moves away from me with that damn smirk on his face. He leans back against the wall across from me, and he folds his arms over his chest, showing off those amazing biceps of his.

“Besides, I have something for you in my room.”

Lifting my eyebrow, I flick my eyes to the very visible erection in his jeans.

Tom lets out a sexy laugh. “Not that—well, not right off the bat.”

Ignoring the lusty tingles I’m feeling, I flip him off.

He laughs again, louder this time. I look to my feet to hide the smile forcing its way onto my lips.

I hate the way he can get to me like this.

It’s not long before the elevator comes to a stop at my floor. I watch the doors open, considering my options.

Tom is stubborn, and I want to get some things off my chest with him, so I swallow my pride and let the doors close. I’m expecting a smart retort from him, but nothing comes.

When I look at him, he’s smiling softly at me.

It causes my heart to squeeze.

Soon enough, the doors are opening on the twenty-third floor. I follow Tom down the hall. He stops outside a door marked Presidential Suite.