Page 20 of Storm

He quirked his mouth and pointed toward an open door. “It’s in there. Wash your hands when you’re done. I’m going to make you something warm to drink.”

Storm was walking back to the couch when she returned with two mugs in his hands.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she sat down. “For stopping, for… just… everything. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

“Hey,” he said softly, setting one of the drinks on a side table. “You don’t have to thank me. You looked like you needed someone, and I wasn’t about to let you deal with that jerk alone.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before he lowered himself next to her. “Drink this. Hot chocolate fixes everything. Be careful, though, it might be too hot. Wait, let me test it first. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

Before she could take it from him, he brought the mug to his lips, tipping it back for a drink. When he was happy it wasn’t going to hurt her, Storm passed Brook the cup. She giggled. He certainly was overprotective.

She hummed as she took a drink. “It’s so good.”

Storm winked at her then sat back and watchedPeppa Pigwith her like it was his favorite show. Surely, he wasn’t enjoying this.

“You smell nice,” she said suddenly, surprising herself.

He chuckled, the low sound vibrating through her. “Yeah? I wanted to say the same thing about you. Caramel and vanilla. Fucking edible.”

Her cheeks grew hot, and she avoided his gaze for a few seconds, then looked up at him. He was watching her, his eyes intense but not overwhelming, like he was trying to read every thought she wasn’t saying out loud.

The air between them crackled, and almost like a magnet was pulling her, she leaned closer to him. Storm gently set his cup on the side table then took hers and did the same. She didn’t understand how she could be so aroused by someone just from being in their presence, but it was instant when she was around him. Her core ached, and her breasts were heavy. She wanted him.

After a moment, he lowered his face to hers, his lips brushing hers delicately at first, as though giving her a chance to pull away. When she didn’t, he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up to cup her cheek.

Storm's kiss was everything Brook hadn't realized she was waiting for—a slow, deliberate unraveling of restraint. Her heart thudded against her ribcage as his hand moved from her cheek to cradle the nape of her neck, his thumb tracing lazy circles against her skin. She melted into him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt like it was a lifeline.

When he finally pulled back, her breath came in short, uneven bursts, her chest rising and falling against his. His dark gaze locked onto hers, intense but devoid of danger. Instead, itheld something far more alluring, far more potent—a magnetic pull that left her dizzy.

“Brook,” he muttered, his voice gravelly and thick with emotion.

“Yeah?” Her words came out barely more than a whisper, trembling slightly as her fingers relaxed their grip on him.

He smirked then, that signature Storm confidence flickering in the curve of his lips, but there was a softness behind it that wasn’t usually there. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day we met. You have no idea how hard it’s been holding back.”

“Really?” she replied, even quieter this time.

“Yeah, sunshine.” His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before meeting her eyes again. “Fuck, I wanted to kiss you the night I followed you home, but I didn’t want to scare you.”

The sincerity in his tone, the way his words carried no hint of regret, sent a warm shiver coursing through her. His openness was disarming, but it made her feel safe and cherished in a way she hadn’t expected.

“You don’t scare me,” she told him, her voice steadier now.

Storm’s smile widened, the warmth in his expression softening the hard edges of his face. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, the tenderness of the gesture making her heart squeeze. Then he settled back into the couch, pulling her closer until she was nestled snugly against him, her head resting against his chest.

“I’m glad, baby girl,” he murmured in a soothing rumble that vibrated through her.

In his arms, with his steady heartbeat beneath her ear and his warmth enveloping her, everything else seemed to fade away. It was a moment she never wanted to end.

SEVEN

STORM

She fit against him so perfectly it was almost maddening. Every soft curve of Brook’s soft, lush body molded seamlessly to the hard lines of his muscular frame, as though she’d been made to rest there. Storm couldn’t ignore the quiet certainty settling deep in his chest—a primal understanding that she washis. But that fucked-up voice in his mind wouldn’t let him bask in the thought for long. It whispered continuous doubts, telling him he wasn’t the kind of man she’d want or need.

He’d seen the way she watched his friends with their Littles, her eyes lighting up with interest and longing. She liked how they cared for the girls—gentle, doting, patient. But Storm? He wasn’t any of those things. He was rough around the edges, gruff, and prone to long stretches of silence. A self-proclaimed hermit. He wasn’t built for soft words and nurturing touches. She deserved better than him—someone brighter and more open.

He knew it, but even so, he couldn’t make himself walk away from her.

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