Storm (Sex and Bullets 1)

“Hey.” I pat the empty seat by my side. “Come here.”

For a moment I think she will refuse, and I prepare to go around and get her, push her until she tells me what is wrong.

But she gets up and pads over to me. She’s still barefoot. We both are. In the rush of adrenaline, I didn’t even notice. I’m still only in my surfing shorts.

Shit, Baltimore will be a lot cooler.

Making a mental note to tell the flight attendant to call for clothes before we arrive, I wait until Raylin has sat down, and then I drag her to my side, wrapping an arm around her. She feels so slight and fragile pressed to me. I’d do anything for her.

I don’t think she realizes it.

“Is this a private jet?” she whispers.

“Yeah.”

“Yours?”

“Yes.”

“How is this…? I don’t…” She never finishes her questions.

“Eat first. Try this.” I take a lobster roll and lift it to her mouth. She makes a grab for it, but I lift it higher. “Uh-uh. You had your chance to eat on your own. Now I’m gonna feed you.”

She glares up at me, but opens her mouth when I offer her the roll and bites. Ignoring the way she makes me go hard just by sinking her small, white teeth into the damn roll, I feed her more. Something inside me relaxes as I make sure she’s okay. We’re entering my domain now, my world, and she’ll need my help and reassurance.

I need to show her nothing between us has changed, in spite of the private jet and lobster rolls. Truth is, I was so much happier eating frozen lasagna and microwave popcorn, but going back is necessary, and not only because the beach house now has some extra ventilation holes. Which, by the way, I should have someone fix and set up the alarms before the house is cleaned out.

Already the pressure returns, stress tightening my chest. Not because of the beach house, but because of everything my return implies.

That I accept my place as the heir of the empire my grandparents and my parents built. That I’ll take the bloody throne and become just like them. Live, and die, like them.

“Troy…” Raylin nudges me in the ribs. “Storm.”

I blink and find myself clutching the glass of juice so hard it’s a miracle the glass hasn’t cracked. I put it back down. “Yeah?”

Her mouth twitches, like she’s holding back a smile. “You okay?”

Tension seeps out of my shoulders. “Yeah. I am.” Now I am, seeing her smile. “And you?”

“Better.”

She presses her small body closer to mine, and I tuck her head under my chin, closing my eyes, suddenly exhausted. “I’ll keep you safe, baby. Trust me.”

“I do,” she whispers against my chest, sounding as tired as I feel. “I trust you.”

And that’s enough for me right now. More than enough. That’s everything, and the beginning of more.

***

She wakes up when we land, tensing in my arms, and I stroke her face until she relaxes again.

“Have you ever been to Baltimore?”

She shakes her head minutely, her pretty mouth pursed.

“You’ll like it.” Hell, I’ll make sure. I’ll give her everything she wants. Take her anywhere she likes. And, first of all, I’ll pay off that fucking debt that’s putting her life in danger. “You’ll see.”

She gives me a sleepy smile, and I kiss it off her lips, lick it off like crystal sugar. She tastes like that, sweet and addictive.