Taming the Storm (The Storm 3)

I’m starting to get pissed off. She’s seriously hard work, and it’s fucking exhausting.

“I never said it was. But like you pointed out, we have a hard time staying away from one another. After what happened tonight, it’s pretty damn clear that you don’t want me to be with anyone else, and I sure as hell don’t want you fucking anyone but me. You’re also seriously down on orgasms due to that stupid-ass sex ban you put on yourself, and I can more than make up for them. I’m a machine when it comes to sex. I literally never tire, and as you’ve just discovered, I’m awesome at it. Also, I haven’t fucked anyone but you in a really long time, so I’m down on blowing my load inside a woman.”

Okay, where the hell did all that just come from?

I’m starting to think that this woman will be my undoing.

She gives me a look of distaste. “Jesus, Tom, blowing your load? You think using words like that will bring me over to the dark side?”

Rubbing my head, I let out a frustrated laugh. “Okay, I could have said that last part differently. How about, I haven’t had an expulsion of semen while inside a woman in a very long time?”

That breaks her angry resolve. A small smile quickly works its way onto her lips. “A little better.” She laughs. “If not a bit creepy sounding.”

Relaxing, I smile and tuck her hair behind her ear.

I like to see Lyla happy. I like it even more when she’s happy because of me.

“How long?” She traces a finger over my eyebrow.

“How long, what?”

“Since you last had sex?”

I check my watch. “Um…about sixty seconds.”

“Knock it off!” She gives me a playful shove.

I laugh at her daintiness.

“I meant, before me,” she clarifies.

I close my eyes in thought.

Who was the last woman I fucked before Lyla?

Oh yeah, the blonde waitress from that bar. Can’t remember the name—or hers. She took me back to her apartment after she finished her shift. We started fucking on the sofa. Then, her roommate came home mid-fuck and joined us. So, my last fuck was actually a threesome. I ended up doing the roommate up the ass. She was a bit weird. Insisted on sucking my cock with the condom still on after it had been up her ass. But, hey, whatever floats her boat. I got off, and that was all I cared about.

And it was all I cared about for a really long time—until Lyla.

“Ages,” I answer. “About five weeks ago.”

She starts to laugh. “Five weeks isn’t long!”

“Hey!” I poke her waist.

She lets out a squeal and wiggles, slapping my hand away.

Hmm…she’s ticklish. I might just have to use that to my advantage and soon.

“Five weeks is a really long time, Firecracker.” Especially when I’m used to fucking daily, usually multiple times with multiple women.

Not that I’m going to say that to her.

I’m not stupid. I want to keep fucking Lyla, and reminding her of how I used to be is not the way to make that happen.

“And it felt even longer while living under the same roof as you. Teasing me with your hot body and your amazing tits hidden under those tight little cartoon T-shirts while you strut your sexy ass around the bus.”

“I do not strut, and I definitely don’t tease.” She sticks her tongue out.

I go to pinch it, but I miss. Instead, I tug on her lower lip. “You tease me, and you know it. I had a serious hard-on for days after the dry-hump against the bus. I couldn’t get him to stay down.”

“Sorry.” She giggles.

The sound is like wet lips sliding down my cock.

“Living on that tour bus with you has been pure torture. I haven’t dated my hand so much since I was a teenager. I’ve had the worst case of blue balls ever.”

I pout, going for full effect. I’m trying to win on guilt here.

Hey, I never claimed to be a good guy.

She wraps her fingers around the one I have on her lip, and she kisses the tip. “Poor baby. Have I been driving you crazy?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” I grumble.

“So, I guess then you’re owed…” She closes her eyes in thought. Opening them, she says, “Seventy expulsions of semen.” She finishes that with a sexy smile.

Seventy?

I do quick math in my head.

She’s averaging me having two fucks a day. Not like I’ll be telling her the truth and reminding her of the man I was, so I just go with it. “Well, it’s sixty-nine now, thanks to you, gorgeous. Sixty-nine—my favorite number.” I give her a cheeky smile.

She shakes her head, laughing.

“But to keep the average up, we’ll have to fuck twice a day, every day.” I rest my elbow next to her head, putting my head in my hand. I stare down at her.

She blows out a breath. Pushing a hand into her hair, she stares past me at the ceiling. “No one could know we’re sleeping together.”

And she’s mine.

I climb on top of her, positioning myself back between her thighs. “No one will know.”

Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t want people to think I’m trying to screw my way to success.”

“People wouldn’t think that.” I brush her bangs off her forehead.

“No, they’d probably think I lost my mind.”

I ignore the sting her words cause. Brushing over them, I say, “Yeah, well, I like it when you lose your mind over me.” I press a kiss to her neck.