Taming the Storm (The Storm 3) - Page 65

Shit! I can’t believe I ripped the ass in these shorts! Sure, they’re tight, but it’s not like my butt is the size of Texas!

Inching onto my tiptoes, I hiss, “Cale,” into his ear.

“What?” he says, not taking his eyes off the band.

“I’ve ripped the ass in these effin’ shorts I’m wearing.”

He looks at me. “You’re kidding, right?”

I can see laughter shining in his eyes.

“No, I’m not effing kidding,” I grind out.

He starts to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” I growl, giving him a shove.

“Sorry,” he says, still laughing. “You need me to go and get Shannon for you?”

“No, I’ll go back to the trailer and change. Can you give me your jacket, so I can cover up my ass?”

“Sure.” He takes his jacket off and gives it to me.

In one quick move, I have that jacket on, and I’m pulling it down, making sure it covers my butt.

“I’ll be back soon,” I say to Cale. Then, I take off, heading for the dressing room.

I’ll just take these off and put something else on from the rack of clothes that Shannon brought with her. And I’ll make sure it’s something that will definitely not rip if I bend my ass over.

A few minutes later, I breathe out a sigh of relief when I see the trailer. Picking up my pace as best as I can in these heels, I climb the few steps, open the door, and step inside the safety of the trailer.

And my heart dies in my chest.

No.

Not again.

Tom looks at me, stunned, from his position in the dressing-table chair with a panty-wearing Aurora Simmons straddling him.

Silence hits the trailer with a dull thud.

Tom pushes Aurora off of him, and he’s out of that chair and advancing on me. “Lyla, this isn’t how it looks.”

Pulling up his pants, Dex moves quickly toward me. “Ly, this isn’t how it looks.”

My lower lip trembles.

Tom stops before me. “Lyla.”

All the pain and fury I’ve kept pent-up for the last eleven months explodes out of me. My hand is moving before I realize it, and I slap Tom, hard, across the face. The sound of the slap echoes in the deafening silence.

“Fuck you!” I spit. Hand stinging like a bitch, I spin on my heel and run out of there.

“Lyla!” Tom calls after me.

Nothing is stopping me from getting away from him, not even these damn heels, and I keep running until I find myself in a portioned-off section backstage.

Seeing no people around, I stop and back up against the wall. I bend over, putting my hands on my thighs, as I try to catch my breath.

And deal with the agonizing pain in my chest.

Jesus, this hurts.

Bad.

I can’t even determine if this hurts more than the last time.

God, listen to me…the last time.

How many times does this have to happen before I learn?

Motherfucking Tom Carter. How could I have been so stupid to trust a mut like him to be faithful?

I really must be the dumbest bitch in the world.

My eyes are full of tears, but I won’t blink. I won’t cry one goddamn tear over that bastard.

I catch a sob in my throat, and a sneaky tear slides down my cheek.

“There you are!” Tom’s voice comes at me loud and hard.

I jerk up like I’ve been shot. “Don’t you come another step closer!” I put my hand out between us, a weak attempt at keeping him away. I know Tom, and nothing will stop him when he wants near me.

He moves quickly, eating up the space between us. “I’m not going anywhere until you hear what I have to say.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to hear another word out of your lying mouth!”

Then, he’s before me, and his hands are around my upper arms.

“Get the fuck off me!” I cry, trying to get his deceitful hands off me. I can’t bear him touching me. “If you wanted to have sex with someone else, you could have at least had the courtesy to let me know, so I could get the fuck out of dodge. Or was that it? You wanted to keep having sex with me and her…and who else, Tom?” I’m yelling. I’m near hysterical right now.

It’s a good thing loud music is playing. Otherwise, we’d be attracting a crowd with all our yelling.

“Jesus, Lyla!” He thrusts his hands through his hair. He stares back at me with fear in his eyes. “I don’t want to have sex with Aurora or anyone else.”

“Bullshit!”

“Seriously.” He grabs me again. “You need to listen to me. I didn’t touch her. The only time my hands were anywhere near her was when I pushed her off me. I was there, looking for you. She said that you just left to get a drink, and you were coming back. Said you wouldn’t be long and that I should wait. I wasn’t sure because I know what she’s like—”

“You’ve slept with her before?”

He lets out a sigh, releasing me, his eyes dim. “Yes.”

I ignore the pain that the confirmation forces into my chest. “When?”

His eyes meet mine. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters! More so now because…because I need to know if you’ve had sex with her while you’ve been with me. If you’ve had sex with…anyone…since…me.” My voice peters off at his sharp expression.

“There’s been no one since you and I started sleeping together. I had sex with Aurora a few years ago. It was unmemorable and not something I would ever want to repeat. Stupidly, I made the decision to wait for you with her in there.”

Tags: Samantha Towle The Storm Erotic
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