Page 67 of Sinful Storms

My entire body warmed all over, thinking of that night. The night he’d protected me from the storm. I’d been a scared little eight-year-old, and he’d somehow known exactly how to take my fear away. “You remember that?”

“I remember everything. That night, you were scared, but you were so brave, Aria. And you trusted me, without hesitation. That…that meant a lot to me. I don’t know if you knew that.”

“I trusted you then, and I trust you now. You make everything better. I’m not afraid of the storm anymore, Tristan.”

“I know.” He brought his hand up to brush his finger over the lightning bolt I always wore around my neck. “And now, I get to watch every storm with my favourite person.”

I smiled, watching as another lightning bolt split the sky. “Sharing your facts with them, too. I’ve got one for you this time. Did you know lightning bolts are two miles long?”

I felt his answering smile against my skin. “Hmm. I seem to remember telling you that fact. I hope you’re not trying to take the credit for it.”

“I’d never do that.”

“You absolutely would, little scorpion.” He gently gripped my jaw, turning my head so he could kiss me properly. “I guess it’s one of the many reasons I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I know.” His mouth slid against mine, and I forgot about the storm, losing myself in the man I loved.

Until the sound of the doors sliding open penetrated my brain and the voices of Elena, Knox, Quinn, and Roman filtered through to my ears.

Tristan groaned, dropping his forehead to my shoulder, but when he raised his head again, his lips curved upwards as he took in our friends.

“Barbeque time,” Roman announced. “Get some clothes on. Tristan, you’re on steak duty. Aria, you’re in charge of the seasoning.”

“Yes, sir.” Tristan saluted him before helping me to my feet. We headed back to our room to shower again and dress…interspersed with another round of sex, and then rejoined our friends.

Everyone was gathered around the giant marble-topped kitchen island, waiting for us with glasses of chilled white wine poured and ready. Knox slid two of the glasses across the islandto us before holding up his own. “To us. For being the fucking amazing people we are.”

“Nice and simple and true. I like it.” Tristan gave a decisive nod, lifting his own glass. “And to add to that—to good times we’ve had and even better times to come.”

“Cheers,” Roman said.

We clinked our glasses together and drank, then began preparing the food.

Outside, the storm clouds rolled away until the storm was nothing but a distant rumble. The night sky spread out before us, dotted by countless glittering stars, and everything was still.

THE END