Stormy Nights

“Speaking of, have you heard from your girl?” Ian asks, smirking and gloating like a jerk.

I narrow my eyes at him. That’s a dickhead move. “No, she’s been avoiding me,” I confess.

Ian shrugs, takes a drink of his beer, and then says, “Well, she put in that she’s opting out of her renewal. She doesn’t want to work with Knight Publishing any longer.” The sound of rolling thunder rumbles in my ears, and I don’t know if it’s from the storm outside or from my own heart going insane.

“What!” I roar, shaking my head and dropping the slice of pizza back onto the pizza box. “No way. That’s not happening. She’s not leaving me.”

“Well, she put in that she’s opting out of her renewal. She doesn’t want to work with Knight Publishing any longer.” It plays in my head as I run through the rain. I’m not letting her leave me. She can’t leave me. A thousand painful thoughts drum through my brain. The most brutal one being that I never see her again.

I’m rushing over to her apartment. I have to do something about her leaving me. Or rather, leaving the company. But fucking hell, it feels like she’s leaving me. If she’s leaving, at least I can’t fuck up the company by asking her to marry me. My heart’s racing as I speed over. I love this woman more than I can even say. Even if she does go, as long as she’s a part of my life, I don’t care. I can’t wait another day—can’t risk losing her. I don’t know what stopped me this whole time, but no more waiting. I’m claiming her as mine.

The storm rages hard out there, but I make it there without any problems—other than being soaked.

I pound on her door until she opens it up. “You’re soaked,” she exclaims, looking at me up and down. My hair’s matted down from the rain, and my shirt is clinging to my chest. Her eyes rake over me, appreciating the view. I stare back at her in her T-shirt and tiny shorts. I swallow hard when I see that she’s braless and her hard nipples are pressing against the fabric. The outfit has me torn between pleasure and jealousy. She shouldn’t be answering the door half fucking naked.

“You will be, too,” I bite out, envisioning her pussy coming on my tongue. Storming into her apartment, I scan the area for any unwanted visitors. Fuck, if I find another guy here, I might kill a motherfucker.

I don’t see a man or any signs of a man as I scan the room. When my eyes land on two suitcases, the burn in my gut is automatic. She is leaving me.

And I lose my damn mind.

She closes the door behind me and leans against it. Eating the space between us, I crush my mouth to hers, kissing her passionately. I lift her into my arms and wrap her legs around me, grinding my cock on her pussy.

I need more. Spinning us around, I move away from the door until we fall back onto the sofa, my body trapping hers. She groans and reaches underneath her, throwing a hairbrush onto the floor. It doesn’t stop us. In fact, Lillian lets her hands roam over me just as wildly as mine.

I thrust my hands into her long, blonde hair, pulling and dragging out moans from her sexy lips and letting them resound in my ear as I kiss her neck. “Nick,” she cries out.

The sound of her moaning my name sends beads of cum onto my boxers. I need her badly. Clumsily, I pull up her T-shirt, stripping it off her perfect body. Her tits are unbelievable and even more sexy than I imagined. Leaning down with insatiable lust, I suck on her breast and cup the other one. Feasting on each one like a man possessed, my desire only heightens when her back arches and her nails dig into my scalp pushing my face into her tits.

This is all so fucking new to me, but one taste is all I need to be hooked. I’m ravenous, and I haven’t even slipped inside her tight little pussy. She grinds her hot, barely covered sweetness against my length. It’s too much, and I’m about to come, so I tilt to the side to stop her. I take her mouth with mine again. My kiss is rough and hungry.

No more waiting.

“I desperately need you, Lillian,” I whisper against her cheek, hoping she understands the strength of those words. She rubs her face against mine, sighing and panting as she tugs at my shirt, lifting it over my head. I help her and toss the soaked fabric out of the way.

“Holy shit. You’re ripped, Nick,” she gasps, gliding her hands over my wet chest.