Page 128 of Overcast

“Soooo...yes, to the cupcakes?”

“We’re not making you cupcakes.”

“Shut up, Mills,” Stormi retorts off a chuckle. “I’m trying to protect you up here.”

“My bad,” he bellows back as I impose closer to her. Her head follows, tilting up to meet my gaze as we’re inches from being chest to chest again.

Each time is worse than the last, no matter if we’re fighting or just talking.

My lips sting to touch hers. I practically drool at imagining how she tastes when I’d dip my tongue in and see how innocent she really is.

Either way, it doesn’t matter, the end result is still the same.

Stormi within my possession to entertain myself and my cock. Less bloody, less apprehension when it came to me. I just want lust—urgent and powerful fucking between the both of us.

“What about me?” I press. “Who is going to protect me?” Her breathing hitches, and she makes the mistake of glancing down at my lips.

It takes every ounce of will-power known to man to keep me from not plucking her from her spot and into my space.

“You don’t need protection,” she dodges under a whisper. “All you need is a bucket.”

“Too soon, sweetheart.” I tap her nose with my index finger as I bend slightly over her. “But you’re not wrong. Remind Mills of that when you’re with him later.”

“I want to go with you,” she mutters, holding my fixed stare.

“What?”

“I know what she looks like. I can help.”

I shake my head. “Mhm, no, too dangerous.”

“What’s more dangerous than you?” She inches closer to me, causing my whole body to lock in place. Her new shampoo of some tropical shit fills my nose, the want to touch her taps at every nerve in my body, and I should take a counter step back.

But I don’t.

I want to see what this woman does. I long to know how much innocence lies only skin level and if there is anything else more precarious underneath.

“You’re not going,” I transmit.

She presses her bottom lip out in a pout, appearing disappointed that she has to stay in the house with Mills.

Fuck, she’s going.

---