I wasn't sure if she was making a statement or asking a question. "Of course I've been thinking about it," I said. "I can't stop thinking about how you taste."
"Tell me what happened," she said. "Tell me why you got arrested."
I ignored her, unable to resist playing with her a little bit. "I can't stop thinking about putting my head between your legs," I said. "Running my tongue over your pussy, taking your clit in my mouth, sucking it in."
"Silas," she said, her voice stern. But she shifted in her chair, and her pupils were dilated. "Why did you get arrested?"
I still ignored her. "I can't stop thinking about sucking on that sweet clit, sliding my fingers inside you and bringing you to the point where you're begging for my cock." I paused. "Why are you in West Bend, Tempest?"
She inhaled, her lips slightly parted. "Visiting my grandmother, Silas."
I wasn't sure if she was being honest or not. In fact, that was the whole problem with me and her. I couldn't tell when she was lying. She was a con artist, just like her parents. I didn't know if she was even capable of being genuine.
"Now, you, Silas," she said. "The arrest. What happened?"
"How did you know I was here?" I asked.
"My Nana," she said. "She heard it on her police scanner at the nursing home."
"I was asking seriously, Tempest," I said.
"That's the truth," she said. "Hand to God. My Nana and her friends like to listen to the police scanner because they're little old busybodies. She called me."
I laughed, and then so did she, the tension between us suddenly dissipating, aided by an old lady and her police scanner.
"Now you," she said. "Why were you arrested?"
"I was at my mother's house," I said. "Jed - the town sheriff - showed up, we got into it - just shit talking - and he pulled a weapon on me and arrested me. It's bullshit. Which is why I'm not worried about it. The charges won't stick."
"I didn't know about your mother, Silas," she said. "My grandmother told me. I was sorry to hear about what happened."
I shrugged. "You remember her, how she was," I said. "It's not like I was close to her. And then, finding out the shit she pulled with you and I...she was the only one who would have taken that letter and the money. When it happened, it tore me up. And she's the one who caused it."
"Still," Tempest said.
"Yeah."
"My grandmother said it was an overdose."
I clenched my jaw. "So they say."
"You don't believe that?" she asked.
"I don't know what the hell to believe," I said. "I don't know what the fuck is going on in this town anymore."
Tempest gave me a long look. "Huh."
"Huh, what?" I asked.
"That's exactly what my Nana said," Tempest said. She tapped her pen against her notebook, looking at me thoughtfully.
27
Tempest
"You don't even look like you spent the night in jail," I joked. "You're positively radiant."
"I feel fucking radiant," Silas said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. Dark circles lined his eyes. "Thanks for bailing me out. Even though you didn't come to the hearing."
"You're welcome," I said, grinning. "It was an easy bailout, since you were released on your own recognizance. I'd do it anytime."
"What's the helmet for?"
We stepped out onto the street. "My ride," I said. "Your ride."
"You're going to take me home on your bicycle?" he asked.
"If by bicycle, you mean motorcycle, then yeah," I said, pointing to my bike. "That's my ride, right over there."
"Are you kidding?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Nope," I said. "Take it or leave it."
"Holy shit," he said. "This is a nice fucking bike. What is this, a Harley?"
"Yep, a Road King. Hop on," I said. "I've only got my helmet, so I hope you're fine without one."
"I have a thick skull. But you're going to make me ride bitch?" he asked. But he was grinning. "All right, I can dig it. As long as I'm your bitch."
"My bike, my rules." I threw my leg over the bike and waited as Silas slid behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Then he slid his hands up further, cupping my breasts, and leaned in close to whisper in my ear.
"I like a woman who takes control," he said.
I slapped his hands off my breasts. "Just shut up and hang on."
"Do you want to come inside?" Silas asked, the moment suddenly awkward.
We stood there at the bottom of the stairs that led up to his garage apartment, like two people lingering at the end of the night on a first date, deciding whether we should go all the way or not.
"I -" I started to speak, but Silas interrupted me.
"I'd like you to come up," he said, stepping in close to me. "The apartment isn't much, just this place I'm renting from my old coach. It's nothing fancy. Not like Vegas, I mean."
"I'm not sure it's a good idea, Silas." My breath caught in my throat, my heart racing at my proximity to him. "You and me. I can't..."
I didn't even know what to say. There were so many "I cant’s"...
I can't stay in West Bend. With you.
I can't stop being a grifter. I am who I am.
I can't be honest. I don't know how.
I can't love you. I don't believe in love.
"You're the one who came back to West Bend, Tempest," he said, the intensity of his gaze unnerving me. "Are you going to tell me the only reason you showed up here was to visit your grandmother? After all this time?"
"I thought you lived in Vegas," I said. But my words sounded lame, even to me.
"Bullshit," he said. "That might be what you told yourself."
I shrugged. "It's the truth."
I was lying.
"Tempest Wilde, I'm being polite as hell right now," he said. "I'm asking, like a gentleman and everything, would you come up to my place? What I should be doing is picking you up, putting you over my shoulder, and slapping the hell out of that curvy ass of yours."
I laughed, but Silas had a way of talking dirty that made me want to do exactly what he wanted. "A gentleman is the last thing on earth you are, Silas Saint."
"You're damn right," he said. "And I'm telling you right now that I want you to come up to my place."
"And then what, Silas?" I asked.
He stepped closer to me, his mouth near my ear. "And then I'm going to make what I did to you in Vegas look like nothing."
Heat flowed through my body, the warmth of his breath on my neck sending goose bumps across my skin. "Silas," I said, still hesitating.
Hesitating until he touched his lips to my neck, right on the spot near my ear that always sent shivers down my spine. I let out a soft moan as he dragged his lips along my jawline, then covered my mouth with his. The way he kissed me made my knees weak, and I melted against him.
I was so heady with desire that I barely protested when Silas reached behind me, his arm at my knees, and picked me up, taking me up the stairs. "I told you I was going to pick you up and carry you inside," he said. "I warned you."
I should have just been consumed with lust. But all I could think about was how the way he took me up to his place was like a groom carrying a bride over the threshold.
It was a reminder of what might have been between us if things had been different.
Silas paused at the door, still holding me. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You have a look."
I shook my head. I wasn't sure what the hell I was feeling, only that I was sad. "Put me down, Silas," I croaked. My voice sounded hoarse.
He obliged, then reached into his pocket for his keys and unlocked the door behind me. "I know," he said.
"Know what?"
"You're terrified. I can see it in your eyes," he said. "You want to run."
"I -" I started.
"Don't," he said, his tone gruff. "I don't want to hear some bullshit, Tempest. You're not running, this time." He kissed me again, hungrily, his tongue finding
mine, and every part of my body cried out for his touch.
I wanted him. Now, before I listened to that voice in my head, the one making all of the rational objections, giving me all the reasons why I shouldn't be with him.
Right now, I wanted him.
I didn't want to think about tomorrow. Only now.
"Take me, Silas," I whispered. "Now."
He made a sound under his breath, guttural in his throat, and picked me up. His hands held my ass, and I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist. He kicked the door closed behind him, still carrying me, his lips never leaving mine.
The apartment was tiny, but we didn't even make it to the bedroom. Silas set me on the counter in the kitchen, yanking my shirt over my head in one quick movement, and I unhooked my bra and tossed it to the floor. He groaned as I arched up to kiss him, my breasts pressed against his chest, and I tugged at the sides of his shirt.
"Damn shirt," he said, breaking away from me to yank his shirt over his head.
I inhaled sharply when I saw him.
"What?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Nothing," I said. "I just don't think I'll ever get tired of looking at you without clothes."
Silas kissed me, sliding his hand over my breast. My nipple hardened to his touch, and he stroked it with his thumb, moving it in circles around and around until I was nearly delirious with arousal. "Well then," he said. "Let me make your fucking day."
I watched appreciatively as he slid his jeans from his waist, stripped naked, and kicked his clothes across the tile floor. When he turned toward me, he was already rock hard. "How's that?" he asked. "Better?"
I laughed. "Come here and I'll show you how much I like it."
"How ever will I be able to tell?" he asked, his mouth close to my ear. He unbuttoned my pants and I arched my back on the counter, allowing him to slide my jeans off my hips. After he pulled them down my legs, he stood up, his eyes trailing over every inch of me.
"Are you going to just stand there?" I asked.
"Quit your nagging," Silas said, grinning. "You can let me fucking stand here and look at that sweet little body of yours if I want to look at it."
I blushed under his gaze, but it only lasted for a moment before he was touching me again.
Back where he belonged.
His fingers trailed down my sides, and he hooked a finger underneath my panties, pulling them away from my skin. "You're wearing panties this time, huh?" he asked. "I want to see how much you like it." He slipped a finger between my legs, groaning when he felt my wetness. Leaning in, he kissed me so hard I thought he would bruise my lips.
"Take them off," I whispered. "I want you now. I can't wait." I was practically begging for him. My body seemed to feel like it had been forever, not days, since he touched me
I craved him.
When Silas finally had me naked, my ass on the cool surface of the kitchen counter, he didn't waste any time. He entered me in one swift movement, and I clung to the back of his shoulders, my legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked me.
Only the first few strokes were slow.
After that, he drove into me with hard, fast strokes, and I arched into him, wanting all of him, as deeply as I could have him.
"I can't get enough of you," he said.
I pulled myself against him, tightening my legs around him and guiding him in more deeply, my head too clouded with desire to even utter a word in response. I wanted him melded against me.
I wanted everything he had.
I couldn't think of anything except how his cock felt inside me, the sensation of his skin against mine, the way his breath felt warm on my neck.
"More, Silas," I gasped. It was all I could say.
More.
My words spurred him on, and he fucked me harder, bringing me higher and higher like I was riding an ocean wave that was about to crest. I buried my head in his shoulder and clung to him, my nails digging into his skin as he drove his cock deeper inside me.
"Tempest," Silas said, his voice barely more than a growl. "Come for me before I fucking explode."
His words pushed me over the edge and I cried out his name as I came, feeling him crash into me.
Afterward, I sat with my legs wrapped around him and my head on his chest, my entire body still trembling from my orgasm. We stayed like that, nearly motionless for what seemed like an eternity as our breathing returned to normal.
My ear against his chest, I listed to the thumping of his heart. It made me feel calm. "Your heart sounds like it's going to explode," I said.
Silas stroked my hair. "You're making me feel like an old man," he said.
"What?" I looked up at him. "Neither of us are old."
"You're going to give me a damn heart attack, though," he said, smiling at me. "With what you're doing to me."
"What am I doing to you, exactly?" I asked, my voice light.
"You're killing me, bright eyes," he said, kissing the side of my neck. "I can't stop thinking about you. Or fucking you. Or thinking about fucking you."
I didn't respond. I wanted to be honest, to tell him that I felt the same way.
I was torn between my instinct to run away and my desire to stay.
Silas picked me up again. "Hang on," he said. "I'm taking you back to the bedroom. Where you belong."
I laughed, but kept my arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, only stepping down when he reached the bedroom.
"Standing up?" he asked. "I was going to put you right into bed."
"Oh yeah?" I said. "You think you've got that much stamina, old man? You were just whining about how I wore you out."
Silas reached for my ass and I dodged his hand, jumping onto the soft mattress and landing with a bounce. He scrambled up onto the bed after me, pulling me onto my side facing him.
"I might need a minute to catch my breath, Tempest," he said. "But there's no chance in hell that you're going to wear me out."
I trailed my hand over his chest, my eyes taking in every inch of him, trying to memorize every ripple of his muscles, the tattoos that covered his skin. I was sure that, like mine, each picture had a story, and it made me think about how much of his life I'd missed.
How many stories he had that didn't include me.