Page 23 of Fierce Storm
“Take me,” I whisper against his mouth, before leaning back onto my elbows. Our eyes meet and the look of desire and lust staring back at me sends a gush of wetness between my thighs.
“As you wish.” Sal drops to his knees and opens my legs, staring between them as?—
…
My alarm blares and I jolt awake with a gasp.Goddammit. Was I about to have a sex dream? About Sal?
I pause for a second, trying to recall the dream, and when it hits me, I burst out laughing. Stupid alarm. I could have used a happy ending. It’s been too long.
We may have agreed not to kiss again, but no one said anything about using each other to get ourselves off. Even if it’s only in a dream.
Although, I have no doubt that Sal’s far too much of a gentleman for that.
His loss. Not mine.
Switching off my alarm, I close my eyes and try to find my way back to my fantasy until the real world hits me.
Goddammit. I have responsibilities that affect others, and those are far more important than any fantasy dream I was trying to continue.
My toes curl as I stretch my body, listening for the satisfying crack of my back as I twist, and by the time I’m out of bed, my dream is nothing but a distant memory.
Probably for the best.
After prepping my morning smoothie, I lean on the edge of a stool in my kitchen and scroll through my emails, holding my breath for what I know is coming.
And just as expected, it’s there.
Subject: I’m sorry. The news has gone wide.
Fuck.
At least Zane had a day to himself before the chaos began.
I read through a few emails, gathering as much information as I can before texting Zane. Not only has Landon’s death been announced, the media also know about his arrest, meaning every dirty detail is about to come out.
KEELEY: Landon’s death has hit the news and someone leaked that you were in lockup yesterday. We’ve got this. I’m not worried and neither should you be. But we’re going to need to talk
My message turns toreadbut Zane doesn’t respond, and if I’m being honest, I didn’t expect him to. At least not right away. He needs time to process it all. The last few days have been hell for him.
He deserved more than twenty-four hours of respite.
After inhaling a calming breath to center myself, I throw on my workout gear and secure my earbuds to walk while I call my contacts—killing two birds with one stone—advising everyone that Salvatore D’Angelo will be making a statement later today.
It’s just past nine when I make it to the office, having already put in a couple of hours of work. I’m ready to take on the rest of the day, but as I turn the corner, Sal spots me and my heart jolts.Please don’t be weird, please don’t be weird.I couldn’t handle it if last night changed things between us. He pauses briefly, until I smile and his eyes soften with relief as he beelines toward me, ignoring his assistant when she calls out.
“How’s your morning been? My phone’s been blowing up since seven.”
“And I’ve been blowing up other people’s phones since around the same time. Are you sure you want to make thestatement?” I finished writing it last night when I got home. After our brainstorming session, it didn’t take long.
Sal straightens, his confident stance giving me his answer before he voices it. “Send it through, and I’ll be ready whenever you need me.”
“Eleven?”
“Sounds good.”
I turn to walk past him but his arm shoots out, wrapping around my waist before he quickly lets go. “About last?—”
“There’s nothing to talk about. We’re good.”
