Page 33 of Sizzling

He didn’t move. Of course not. That would be the polite thing to do, but Storm was an asshole.

“You’re talented. Real fucking talented. You should be making a hell of a lot more than that.”

Okay. I paused. Was that a real compliment, or was he about to turn it around and make a snarky comment about me being a gold digger?

“You owned that crowd with ease, like nothing I’d ever seen. You should be packing out civic centers and football stadiums, not singing at bars.”

Now, I was completely thrown off guard. He looked serious. But I knew better. He was leading up to something mean.

I shook my head and placed a hand on my hip. “Sure, I’m the next Taylor Swift. Now, can you move so I can go home?”

The corner of his full mouth tilted up, and his eyes seemed to heat. Even in the darkness, I could see them change. A stir in my stomach was followed by a flutter. I blinked, trying not to fall for this. He was going to slap me with something cruel at any moment.

Did he know I struggled with how gorgeous he was? That my stupid body reacted to him even though my head knew better? God, I hoped not.

“Your problem is, you don’t see it,” he said, pushing away from the car and taking a step toward me, closing the distance. “All you see is what the mirror and men tell you. That you’re stunning. Men throw themselves at you. But your looks have nothing on that voice.”

When was he going to lay the smackdown and tell me I was a slut or whore or whatever? I was in need of that right now because the way he was making me feel, all warm and needy, was not good. I was letting my guard down, and that was a big no-no.

I swallowed hard and tried to take a step back, but my legs wouldn’t move. They were glued to the ground they stood on. Every breath I took, his scent filled my senses, making it hard to concentrate.

“You want millions, then make them. Use that talent of yours and be an independent woman who makes her money honestly.”

His voice was deep and husky, but the words were what snapped me out of whatever this was. He lifted his hand and ran a finger down the side of my cheek, trailing along my jawline, then into my hair. I was trembling. Damn this man.

Reaching up, I wrapped my hand around his wrist and pulled at it, trying to get it off me. His arm flexed, but that was the only sign that he even acknowledged my attempt at removing his hand.

“I’m sure that between those smooth, silky thighs is the hottest, sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” he said as his fingers tightened in my hair, slightly pulling it with the action.

I stared up at him and watched his jaw clench as he held me there.

“This goddamn face,” he snarled angrily. “No man should have to endure this kind of temptation.”

“I’m not …” My words came out in a breathy gasp, but I wasn’t sure what it was I meant to say.

Every time he tugged at my hair, the area between my thighs he’d mentioned throbbed.

“You’re not what?” he asked in a sardonic tone, tilting his head to one side.

I opened and closed my mouth. I was struggling to keep a clear thought. He took a step closer, and then with a hard jerk of my hair, he turned me around until my back was against the car, and he was towering over me. A cry left me from the pain, but he didn’t ease up his hold. I felt his hand slide over my waist and slowly toward my back, making my knees weak from the rough feel of his callous palm. When the heavy metal from my gun was eased out, I tensed as fear began to slip into this needy lust haze he’d pulled me into.

My eyes followed his hand as he took my gun and placed it on the hood of my car behind me.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, cupping the side of my face gently before gripping my chin almost too roughly. His heated gaze stared down at my mouth as his hold got tighter. “I hate this mouth,” he growled. “It’s too goddamn full and pink. Always so fucking pink. Taunting me. Making me ache to see these fat lips wrapped around my cock while I hear you choke on it.”

A whimper escaped me. My body felt like it was on fire. This was not normal, and what he was doing wasn’t okay. No man had ever talked to me like this. Yes, he was being a little too rough, but it was just enough to cause excitement. The edge of fear only seemed to heighten the emotion.

I should stop him. Scream. Get away. But my body was completely against that course of action. My panties were soaked, and I was aching so badly that I was having to fight myself to keep from rubbing against him.

“I want to kill. Rip off heads. Slice off every fucking dick that’s getting off right now to thoughts of you,” he snarled, tightening his hold on my hair even more, then pulling my head back so that my neck was exposed and he was all I could see.

Sucking in a breath, I trembled as he stepped closer to me, letting go of my chin and running his hand down the front of my chest, stomach, going until he found the edge of my miniskirt. My mouth fell open on a gasp as his hand shoved between my thighs, and two fingers slid inside my panties. Both my knees buckled, and I moaned from the sheer pleasure. The ache that had built was now a pulsing need.

“That’s a real fucking wet cunt.” He lowered his head until his forehead was resting against mine. “All that for me? Does a little pain make this pussy cream? Hmmm?”

The two fingers he slid over my slick folds thrust inside me hard, and I grabbed both his arms as a cry ripped from me. My hips rocked against his hand, wanting his fingers deeper. Needing them to move. To fuck me.

“That’s it, little siren. Lead me to my own fucking destruction.” His voice was hoarse, and I could hear his fast and heavy breathing. He wanted this too.

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