Page 87 of Storm

I lift both brows, waiting for him to expand on that.

“Dude, the guy has lost his head over her. He’s lucky she’s even entertaining the idea of involving him inmi bebé’slife.” Then, he turns and I barely hear him whisper to Miriam, “I can’t wait to hunt you again,mi pétalo.”

CHAPTER 40

MIRIAM

I’ve tried hard to temper my mood with the full understanding that it is literally no one’s fault I’ve been restricted for so long.

Really,reallyhard.

“Miriam, it’s going to be okay.” Kevin, God bless him, tries to placate me, but I just need a fucking moment to be angry.

Dr.fuckingBelle took away every bit of freedom I had and put me back on full bedrest becauseapparentlymy blood pressure isn’t cooperating. I’m not really mad at him or anyone for that matter, just my body for being a stubborn bitch and deciding I needed to be just that much more miserable.

“I need to throw something,” I bite out. “No, I take that back. I don’t, but I really want to scream right now.”

They’re all watching me like I’m about to blow a gasket and I don’t blame them. Ezra is bouncing on his toes, and Tatum looks worried and sad. Kevin is calm, like always, but it’s not what I need right now.

Richard is the one who surprises me when he wraps an arm around my waist and hurries me to my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind us. Spinning on him, I take a step sideways because the movement made me dizzy.

“Whoa, hold on there,” he says, reaching out for me. Like the asshole I am, I push his hand away in frustration.

“I’m fine. I’mfine!”

He grabs my upper arms and turns me to walk toward the bed, then sits me down, squatting in front of me so we’re eye level. His eyes roam over my face and I can’t help it; I stick out my tongue.

Faster than I expected, he lunges forward and sucks it into his mouth, kissing me furiously until we’re laying across the bed, making out like two teenagers. When I try to take over the kiss, he pins my hands above my head and pulls away too far.

I snap my teeth at him, but he jerks his head back with a smile. “Come now, Miriam. You can do better than that.”

Yanking my right arm from his hand, I grip the back of his neck and pull him back down to me. It’s the firstrealkiss we’ve had since the cabin and it’s wildly different from before. When Richard kissed me months ago, it was controlled and calculated, but now? He’s just as passionate as I’m feeling.

Releasing my other arm, I wrap it around his shoulders to hang on while he trails his fingers down to palm my breast, then squeezes it with enough pressure that I whine into his mouth.

He turns his head to dive his tongue further into my mouth and we intertwine, breathing heavily as we do our best to shove our way up the bed. “Richard, the doctor… he said I can’t do this anymore.”

Ripping his mouth away, his hair hangs into his eyes as he stares down at me. “Five minutes more. We can pretend we did this before we left today.” Then he kisses me again as I throw my leg over his hip, grinding my center against his dick.

We continue like this until he finally pulls away again, his hand buried under my shirt and fingers pinching my nipple.

“Fuck, Miriam.” He drops his head to my chest as he continues to tease my peak, bolts of pleasure zipping to mypussy. “You’re like my destruction and saving grace, wrapped into a beautiful fucking package that I want to consume. You’remi tormenta.”

His words make me pause and I lean my head away to study him, confused. “I’m your storm? What the fuck does that mean?”

“No, you’re my tormentor,” he says, a frown wrinkling the skin between his brows.

Barking out a laugh, I feel bad when his frown deepens, but I can’t help it. “Richard,mi tormentameansmy storm.”

His eyes follow his hand as he runs his fingers through my hair and he cups the side of my face. “Well, you’re that too.”

I open and shut my mouth, unsure what to say until it clicks and I push myself to sit up. He backs up, giving me space and a hand when I struggle to move. “Richard, are you trying to learn Spanish?”

Oh my God, Richard Leigh, the seriously formal lawyer who’s infiltrated my life is blushing.

He looks away, but I move to keep his face in my line of sight until he mumbles, “Not very well, apparently.”

“Qué estás tratando de decirme?” I ask him what he’s trying to tell me, and my mouth falls open as he answers as if I just spoke in English.

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