Page 176 of The Storm

Blue’s grip on me tightens, and I push our cocks together. The contact jolts me and sends a tremor through my whole body. It’s a missing piece snapping into place.

My skin and nerves, blood vessels and cells are all on fire. A surge of heat shudders violently through me. A hot mouth is pressed against mine, open and wet and desperate.

I come so hard my arms give out, and I collapse on top of Blue while liquid fire spreads through my body.

Blue’s hips jerk as he lets out a shout. Thick jets of cum spurt between our bodies, and I savor the feel of his cock throbbing against mine, and all I can think isfinally.

We’re both silent for a long time. Just him and me, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat, sharing the same air.

“Fuck,” Blue says softly, breaking the silence.

“Is that a good fuck or a bad fuck?” I murmur, my lips moving against his shoulder. Goosebumps race over his skin, and his dick gives a weak throb between us.

“It’s a what-the-fuck-are-we-doing fuck,” he says.

I can’t disagree there.

Can’t seem to really care either right now.

It’s a bad idea. Then again, all of this has been a bad idea. You could ask me why I asked Blue to stay. I don’t have a good reason. I just couldn’t let him leave.

“You wanted to pretend,” he says. “I’m game.”

He swallows and his fingertips drift over my bare back.

“From now until Monday morning, you’re mine,” he says. “The past doesn’t exist. The future doesn’t exist. We don’t think about what a bad idea this is. We don’t think at all. We pretend. And we’re honest with each other. Whatever you say, you mean it. And the same goes for me.” He slides his hand up my back and tugs at a strand of hair in the back of my head. “Do you agree?”

I nod.

FIFTY-FOUR

INDY

I siton Nick’s kitchen counter wearing a pair of his boxer shorts and one of his T-shirts that says “I have a theory” on the front. He’s dressed in a pair of shorts and nothing else.

I watch him cook breakfast, stealing chunks of vegetables from the cutting board, and he pretends to be exasperated with me.

“This will be a pretty lousy breakfast skillet if you eat half the ingredients before it goes in the oven,” he says when I grab another handful of the carrot slices he’s just finished cutting.

“Sex makes me hungry.” I shrug. “And watching you cook makes me want to have sex. It’s one of those endless loops.”

He finishes cracking eggs on top of the mix of vegetables, bacon strips, and cheese in the skillet, slides it into the oven, then leans against the counter next to me.

His fingers slide up the inside of my thigh, and he rubs circles on the skin with his thumb. A wisp of heat starts to twist and curl in my belly like a fire being lit. The higher his thumb moves, the hotter it gets. I watch his hand, tracing every move of his fingers with my eyes, mapping the path he creates on my skin.

My cock is heavy and thick against my abdomen. He pulls back a bit and runs his hands upward, over my stomach.

He cups my ass and yanks me to the edge of the counter, keeping me in place with an arm wrapped tightly around my lower back.

He leans forward and nuzzles my neck, then the sensitive skin below my ear. He bites down on my earlobe, and I shiver.

“I want to fuck you,” he murmurs into my ear.

A breathless, needy laugh escapes me. “Yeah?”

He nods, his forehead moving against my temple. “Want to get inside you again. Need inside you.”

He keeps massaging my ass, and his voice is low and demanding. It sets off yet another wave of desire. I tilt my head to the side, giving him better access to the sensitive skin of my neck. He bites down where it meets the curve of my shoulder then soothes the sting with his tongue. My limbs tremble with anticipation.