Storm (Sex and Bullets 1)

Shit. Rubbing at my mouth, I head to the kitchen and drink straight from the tap. My thirst slaked, I decide I should shower and put some clothes on me. I’m back down in record time, wearing the last of my clean clothes, a short denim skirt and a striped tank top. There has to be a washing machine somewhere in the house, right? A laundry room.

Making a mental note to ask Storm when he wakes up, I wander to the sunken living room, but I don’t sit long. The breeze wafting through the windows lures me outside, to the patio. The lit-up pool is beautiful. I sit on the edge and dip my feet in the water, drawing a deep breath of night air.

Cool water from the pool. Some exotic flower from the garden. The sea. A warm note of rotten leaves and earth.

Peaceful. Quiet.

I wonder if he played on a beach like this one when he was little. If he swam and played in the sand and rolled on the lawns.

Probably. I try to imagine him when he was a kid, and I bet he must have been way too cute. Hell, he’s cute now, only in a badass, sexy way.

If that makes any sense.

Nope. No sense whatsoever, and who cares? I swing my feet in and out of the water, splashing sof

tly, and grin.

That’s it, I’m fallen head over heels for this guy. The damage is done.

A flash from my right catches my attention. Is it lightning? My heart booms at the thought of thunder, and I wish for Storm’s arms around me.

I hastily get up and glance at the ocean. It’s dark, the sky overcast. No moon. Could be a storm in the making. I walk to the gate, rubbing my hands over the goosebumps on my arms.

Leaves crunch a few feet away. As I turn around, I think I see someone walking by, a barely-there shape behind the fence stretching along the gate.

Or maybe it’s an animal? What animals do they have here, in Florida? They have coyotes, don’t they?

Calm down, Ray. Even if it’s a person, so what? People live here. It’s not a deserted beach.

My pulse pounding in my ears, I turn back toward the house just in time to see Storm standing at the door, one arm braced on the frame. He’s wearing a pair of surf shorts that reach his knees and hang low on his narrow hips.

“May I interest you in a midnight swim?” He winks, giving me a crooked grin that settles my heart.

Everything’s fine. Relax. Nobody knows you’re here.

“I think I’d rather go to bed. It’s getting chilly.”

“Bed sounds good to me.” If possible, his grin turns more wicked.

I shake my head, laughing. “You’re insatiable.”

“What can I say? You make my hungry.” He waits until I reach him, then takes my hand in his. “Dammit, Ray, you…” He frowns. “You make me want. Things. More. More from life.”

I stare up at him, my pulse skyrocketing again, and wonder what exactly he’s trying to tell me. “That’s good, right?”

“It’s good.” He sighs, rubs his thumb over my knuckles and tugs me inside, closing the door behind us. “It’s new for me, that’s all. I’m trying to figure it out.”

I bite my lip. “Need help with that?”

“I need all the help you can give me,” he says, wagging his brows, and yeah, we aren’t talking about figuring this out anymore—this thing between us, which has my mind in twists, too.

But I guess we won’t be getting much sleep again tonight. And that’s totally fine by me.

***

When I roll out of bed the next morning, the other side of the bed is cold. Storm isn’t there.

We need to synchronize more. I wouldn’t mind waking up in his arms. Maybe we can negotiate something. Cuddling in the morning in exchange for… Well, I can think of a few things we could do.