Page 59 of Cloud Storm

Of course I knew that thanks to my behavior, I was in deep shit with her, so I swear I fought against it, tried to resist her allure, because I was swimming between two currents that will never mix, like water and oil.

The problem was, and still is, that she’s there, tempting me, calling me like the mermaid she is. And if I am weak for anything, it’s her charm.

The night of the party at the terrace was a revelation for me. I tried to stay away, watching her from a safe distance, taking refuge behind my armor, my cold mask.

But I couldn’t. All it took was seeing that jerk trying to sink his claws in her and my determination flew off the roof.

Even I was surprised, but what was I going to do? I put on the medieval knight character, as she said and went like a raging bull to her rescue. The king of the jungle defending his lioness.

I wanted to tear out the bastard’s teeth one by one, in the most painful way. However, I resisted acting on impulse when her gaze stopped me. Those gorgeous gray eyes looked at me—instead of full of wonder and fascination—scared, wide open. I knew I wasn’t capable of acting that way, not in front of her at least.

That night I returned home determined to clarify everything, but it proved impossible. The matter was out of my hands.

That’s why I had to reach out to California Girl, why I insisted on meeting up, to find out if what we had was a fantasy or if it was real.

My cravings for the sultry siren who called me by my real name would have to wait until then.

There was no middle ground, it was all or nothing.

And finally she accepted, finally the invisible woman agreed to meet with me.

Then everything got messed up again.

Fuck my stupid bad luck.

Why?

Because I couldn’t get to our date.

I literally couldn’t even leave my damn bed, too sick to move.

My chest so heavy I could barely do something as simple as breathing.

The last week at work had been really busy, between the board’s visit because of some new investors, plus my usual workload was extra heavy. I wasn’t feeling good but I had no time to take care of a silly cold I caught after what happened at Seaport.

And now all I see is her. Ariel.

My dreams are full of her. Of the way she smells, of her colorful hair blowing in the wind. Of her smile, of the sound of her sweet laugh.

Of the way she tastes.

And I can’t separate them and that confuses and infuriates me.

The two of them, both so perfect I can hardly believe it’s real.

Then she’s slipping between the wrinkled sheets of my bed, she’s caressing my bare chest, she’s arriving at that place that I have reserved just for her.

Her and only her.

Nobody else.

But my fucking head feels like it’s going to explode, the pressure so intense I can’t move, not even to touch that beautiful face.

This is my version of paradise.

My confusion increases with my anxiety when she caresses my head with her delicate fingers, massaging where it’s aching so badly.

She tempts me.

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