Spring Rain (Storm for All Seasons 4)

He frowned and looked down at her hand. “No.”

She managed a half-smile. “You want to. You’ve always wanted to. I think you’re afraid of acting on your feelings for a million different reasons. And none of those are good enough reason not to.”

His gaze whipped up and caught hers. It was so fierce, so filled with emotions she couldn’t untangle. Anger might be in his heat-filled eyes, but so was desire.

“You have no idea what my reasons are. Stop this, Kait. Right now.”

He hadn’t turned tail and run for the door—yet—so she took it as an encouraging sign. That and the fact that the crotch of his jeans had started to fill out again. Quite nicely, as a matter of fact. She licked her lips. “You don’t really want me to stop, do you?”

Though he’d started to move backwards toward the wall, she stayed in step with him, feeling like a beast stalking its prey. A rather exhilarating feeling, actually. Her nipples tightened and she knew they were visible against the silk from the way his gaze zeroed in on her breasts before he shifted to her face again. “Stop. I mean it. You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“I’m twenty-seven years old, Brett. I’m not a virgin. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

His back hit the wall and she stopped, keeping her eyes trained on his face as she reached for the sash of the robe.

“Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t start this.”

“It started a long time ago,” she said, releasing the ties on the robe and letting the sides fall open. “And tonight we’re going to finish it. I’m tired of waiting for you to realize what’s between us.”

Brett’s gaze roamed over her neck and breasts, traveling slowly as he drank in her body from her belly to her sex and down her legs. When he made eye contact with her again, his eyes had darkened and he stared at her with a sexually sinful look. “You have no idea what you’re getting into. You don’t want a guy like me.”

Her lips curled upward. “I do want a guy exactly like you. Despite what you might think of yourself for whatever reason you think it.”

He tilted his head and gazed at her through half-lidded eyes in a way that made her heart thump.

“I’m not nice, Kaitlyn. Don’t ever assume I am. And be careful what you wish for because you just might get it.”

With a quick shrug of her shoulders, the robe slipped down her arms and pooled at her feet. Brett sucked in a breath, his chest rising sharply. He stood still for a fraction of a second, then moved forward and bridged the small distance between them.

“I’m warning you. If you continue to push me, I’ll damn well take what you’re offering.”

She rolled her eyes to the heavens and prayed for strength. “Do I have to hit you over the head with your easel? I want this, Brett. I want you to take what I’m offering and frankly I’m getting tired of waiting.”

Faster than the lightning arcing outside, he reached out, palmed the back of her neck and drew her against him, pinning her tight to his chest. Her heart slammed against her ribs, pounding so hard she knew he could feel it.

“You’ll regret this, Kaitlyn. We both will. You don’t really know me. There are things you don’t want to know.”

She tilted her head back and looked into a pool of molten amber. Reaching out, she caressed his cheek, her palm tingling at the soft scrape of his beard stubble. Hurt and uncertainly reflected in his eyes. She’d do anything to take that pain away and free his soul. “I don’t care about any of that. Kiss me, Brett. I’ve already waited a lifetime as it is.”

For a second he paused and she was afraid she’d have to resort to begging. She held her breath, knowing this was the moment that could change things between them.

Please, Brett. Don’t walk away this time.

When his mouth descended, she sighed in blissful relief at the first touch of his lips against hers.

Finally.

Kaitlyn surrendered to the magic of Brett’s kiss. He brushed his lips over hers using what she considered amazing restraint. She’d expected violent passion from him, not this exquisite tenderness that brought tears stinging to her eyes.

Maybe she expected the violent passion because her need for him had gone unrequited for so long she was ready to burst with joy now that she was in his arms. A quaking need built like a storm inside her, ready to break free in a maelstrom of fury to equal the raging tempest outside. But she held it in check, needing to let him take charge.

The warmth and wetness of his tongue elicited a shiver of delight as he traced the seam of her lips, parting them gently to stroke every inch of her mouth with his tongue.

She released the whimper she’d held inside, the beauty of being kissed by him so much more exquisite than she remembered from so long ago.

At seventeen she’d been eager to experience womanly passion, but had no idea what to do with her pent-up sexual desires. As a woman, she wanted to savor every second, burn it into her memory banks so that she’d never forget the pulse pounding feeling of this first kiss.

Because it was a first kiss. Before had been clumsy and youthful and over way too quickly. She had thrown herself at him and like the gentleman he was, he had ended it. Now he painted her lips like a master artist, creating a vivid portrait of swirling emotion that made her breath catch and her limbs tremble.

She tasted him, the mixture of coffee and mint making her want to lick at his tongue like a favorite dessert. When she laved his tongue with hers, he groaned and tightened his hold on her.

Magic fought to escape. Thunder crashed louder outside, a spark of lightning flashing out the window and brightening the room with a quick surge of brilliance.

That spark of magic surged within her, too. It drew energy to her and shot out in all directions. She tried to hold it in but couldn’t, and realized that Brett was about to get a revelation he might not have expected.

When it surged, she dug her nails into his biceps and shuddered. The magic flamed like a flash of pure sexual heat deep in her core. Brett stilled, groaned, and plunged his tongue in her mouth, darting and withdrawing in the same rhythm he rocked his hips against her weeping sex.

Her pussy quaked and spilled cream down her thighs. She could no longer control the storm raging within her. If he knew what happened he didn’t stop, instead moved his hands over her bare skin, stroking her hair, her shoulders, her back, cupping her buttocks to draw her closer against him. Desire coiled tight in her womb, squeezing every ounce of energy from her and directing it to her sex. She whimpered against its power.

Brett spun her around so her back braced against the cool paneled wall of the studio. He slipped his thigh between her legs and nudged it against her sex, drawing a cry from her as her clit exploded with fiery pulsing.

And still, his mouth wove a tapestry of incredible sensation over hers while the storm grew in fury outside.

She hadn’t expected this—this unbearable need that forced her magic to swirl around them. Wind picked up and blew in waves over her hot skin, bringing with it the scent of spring flowers. She tensed, waiting for Brett to notice, to say something, to draw back in shock and push her away. But he kept on kissing her and rocking his muscled thigh between her legs until she was certain she’d fall to the floor if he hadn’t been holding onto her.

Despite the wickedly sinful sensation of denim against her naked sex, she grew desperate to feel his skin against hers. Reaching for his shirt, she slipped her hand underneath and caressed his taut abdomen, savoring the feel of his muscles jerking in surprise.

“Please,” she whispered after she tore her mouth away from his.

He stepped away and drew the shirt off, casting it to the floor, then reached for the button on his jeans. Her gaze was riveted on his movements as he jerked the z

ipper down, revealing a dark thatch of hair that she wanted to nuzzle against. He drew the jeans down his hips and off, then stepped toward her.

“Wait!’ She held out her hand to make him stop. All these years of imagining what it would be like to see him standing naked before her. She had to take a moment and just look at him.

His face was tight as if he struggled to hold onto his control. She knew the feeling. She wanted nothing more than to spread her legs and take his cock between them. But she’d waited ten long years to gaze at his body, and she wanted these few precious seconds.

Exactly as she imagined. No. Better, in fact. His body was tanned, well-muscled, the only evidence of the car accident six years ago the long white scar that ran down the front of his left thigh. He’d broken his leg and they’d put a pin in. She remembered Aidan telling her about all those long months Brett had to hobble around on crutches, then all the physical therapy after that. Now the only reminder was a thin white line. She moved forward and reached out to run her fingers over his broad shoulders and the rounded muscles of his biceps before dipping to her knees to trail her fingertip over the pale scar.

She felt the pain there, drawing in the misery and desolation he’d felt after the accident. She made it a part of herself just as it had been a part of him. Sharing his pain was an enormous emotional shot, but one she could handle. She needed to do this as much as he needed to share it with someone.

His harsh gasp caught her attention. He stared down at her with eyes swirling in darkness, his lips parted and his breathing short and labored. She knew why. Out of the corner of her eye his cock bobbed up and down, calling to her. She wanted to taste him, to envelop his shaft between her lips and savor the flavor of him.

Instead, she pressed a kiss to his scar and ran her tongue along its length, just as she was about to do with his cock. The muscles of his leg tensed and she felt a slight tremble. Could she really excite him that much? What an amazing thing to be responsible for his pleasure.

Turning her attention to his cock, she grasped it with both hands, feeling it pulse against her fingers as she stroked the length of him.