Spring Rain (Storm for All Seasons 4)

Scooping her buttocks in his hands, he pushed hard, deep, and she flew into a climax that had her weeping as waves of ecstasy crashed over her. Rain poured down and a gust of wind blew papers all around the studio as the chocolate washed away in the storm. Brett buried his face in her neck and groaned her name, shooting hot jets of cum deep into her womb.

Gasping and panting for breath, she held tight to him, savoring the feel of them joined so intimately.

She never wanted to let go. Having him inside her was perfection, the culmination of every dream she’d ever had about the man she loved.

He raised his head and took her mouth in a kiss so tender her heart throbbed with love for him.

“We’re stuck together,” he said with a grin.

She knew he meant by chocolate, but when he wriggled his hips all she could think of was cock to pussy. “Indeed we are. I like it that way.”

“I meant the chocolate.”

She giggled. “I know.”

“How about a shower?”

“Definitely.”

The tenderness Brett showed when soaping and rinsing her convinced her there was something very special between them, that her emotion hadn’t been one-sided after all. She shuddered with need and love for him every time his hands touched her skin, every time his dark eyes met hers.

After they dressed, they made plans for him to finish the portrait by the end of the week, right before the fundraiser. Though no words, no commitments, were spoken between them, when she stood at the front door to say goodnight, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her with more emotion than she had ever felt before. She stumbled out the door, more confused than ever.

She was hopelessly lost and in love with Brett, and had no idea what to do about it. He’d never mentioned love to her, or a relationship. Only sex and even that they hadn’t discussed. They’d just done it.

She slipped into her car and sat there, staring at the lights inside his house, wishing she were still in there, still making love with him. How easy it would be to forget reality and get lost in lovemaking.

But logic reared its ugly head and forced her to face facts. She was in way over her head with Brett, with no clearer picture of their relationship now than she’d had two weeks ago.

Did he love her? Did he care? Or was she merely convenient, someone to have sex with? Desire was there, of that there was no doubt. But she knew she needed so much more from him than simply great sex.

So much for her grand plan. All she’d done was open her heart to a man she was afraid had no idea what to do with it.

Chapter Eight

Brett stood at the entrance to the Rising Storm’s Grand Ballroom, smiling benignly and shaking hands with everyone who entered. After all, these people had paid over a thousand dollars a ticket to have dinner and then pay even more money at the auction. The least he could do was smile at them.

The bow tie around his neck felt like a noose. He’d like nothing more than to shed his stupid, confining tux and slip into paint-stained jeans and a T-shirt, then spend the evening in his home studio, just like he’d done the past week.

Of course he’d had company while painting, namely his sexy, constantly naked subject. She’d tried his patience lying there batting her dark lashes innocently while he tried his best to still his shaking hand and subdue his raging hard-on. Some nights he didn’t even make it an hour before he threw the brush down in disgust and went to her, dragging her into his arms to spend the remainder of the night making love.

So much for his resolve to push her out of his life. He’d failed miserably, in fact he was pretty certain she was in love with him.

And he knew damn well he was in love with her.

Recipe for disaster. He’d have to put a stop to it. The portrait was finished, and after tonight’s event he’d have no further reason to have contact with her.

She’d done a damn fine job putting the fundraiser together. The room was decorated in shades of velvet and gold. Artwork she’d chosen graced the lobby along with a massive sign proclaiming tonight’s event. Paintings and sculptures to be auctioned tonight were lined up along the roped-off area between the walls and tables, allowing the patrons to walk up and down the long ballroom and inspect the items up for bid. There was plenty to drink, a smorgasbord of food, and he couldn’t wait for it to be over with. Then again, when he saw her walk into his line of vision, he lost his ability to breathe, the last thing on his mind ending the relationship with her. Maybe he could delay the end for a few more hours. He wanted to make love to her one more time.

One addiction for another. One more time would become another one more time, until he never let her go. No, tonight had to be it.

The black dress clung to her body in all the right places. Sleeveless, it was cut in a low vee in front, showing a subtle amount of cleavage. A delicate silver lariat necklace dipped down into the shadow between her breasts.

He tried to swallow, to no avail. When she caught his eye, she smiled. Her eyes glowed like a woman in love. A woman in love with him. His heart lurched against his ribs, his pulse racing as he watched the soft sway of her hips, the dress hugging her long legs and slit up each side almost to her thighs. His gaze followed one slender leg from mid-thigh all the way down, where a tiny silver bracelet called attention to her slim ankle.

Even the shoes she wore got him hard. He wanted to fuck wearing only those shoes. Drag that sexy dress from her body and take her up against the wall right here in the ballroom while she wore only those stiletto heels.

God, he was getting an erection in the middle of New Orleans polite society. The worst part was he didn’t think he cared.

“Evening,” she said as she stopped in front of him.

Inhaling her scent was even worse. She worse no cologne, just the fresh lavender smell of her shampoo and the natural scent of her body. He fought to clear his throat and find something appropriate to say to her. “You’re gorgeous.”

That wasn’t what he intended to say, but it brought color to her cheeks and a golden glitter to her eyes. She pressed a hand to her throat and smiled. “Thank you. So are you.”

He shook his head and held out his arm for her, then guided her into the ballroom. “You’ve done an incredible job with the fundraiser, Kait. I could never have pulled this off without you.”

“That’s my job, Brett. But I have to tell you I had fun coordinating this event. I can’t wait to see how much money the Art Council makes tonight.”

From his knowledge of the net worth of the combined population of the room, he’d wager the council would rake in a bundle.

That was the easy part. The hard part would come later, when this was all over. It was now or never with Kaitlyn. He’d have to make the break with her tonight, or he was afraid he never would. He was weak where she was concerned. He wanted her, of that there was no doubt. But he was starting to need her, to miss her when she wasn’t with him, and that wasn’t good for either of them.

It was especially bad for her. Because if he didn’t let her go, he’d hurt her. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but he knew he would someday. And that he refused to do.

It was going to be damn hard to let her go. Her fresh spring fragrance entered his senses, making him feel like he was standing outside in a meadow filled with sweet lavender.

“I’ve got to go do a few hostess-type things, but I’ll see you around,” she said, looking from side to side. Then, with a quick shrug as if she didn’t care who saw, she cupped his cheeks and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips that still burned on his mouth long after she’d sauntered away.

After that the night passed in a blur of activities. He talked, pressed flesh, encouraged donations to the Art Council and did his best impression of a fundraising manager. He tried to keep his eye on Kaitlyn, but she was busier than he, coordinating both the food and drink staff and still finding time to stop at every single table and talk up the fundraiser. She wore two hats tonight. One as event coordinator, the other

as an attendee, along with her parents.

She was an amazing woman. He loved her.

And he was going to let her go.

Part of him thought it was the biggest mistake he’d ever make. The other part of him thought it was the most noble thing he could ever do for her.

Though he didn’t feel very fucking noble about it.

“You’re drooling over my daughter.”

Brett turned at the sound of a deep voice behind him, smiling at Galen Storm. Galen was a bear of a man who looked just as uncomfortable in his tux as Brett felt in his. His eyes showed a pained expression that was either due to too tight shoes or too many people hovering about.

“You look about as happy as I am to be here,” Brett teased.

“Yeah, but I’m not drooling. Though looking at Angelina makes my mouth water.”

Brett laughed and followed Galen’s gaze to Angelina. She stood next to Kaitlyn, looking more like her sister than her mother. Angelina, like Kait wore black with silver jewelry, their faces lit up as they laughed with each other.

In thirty years or so, Kaitlyn would look just like her mother, just as ravishing as she did right now.