Page 45 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

There’s a heartbeat of stillness before he breaks the mortifying moment.

“I’m not.”

I lift my head from my palms, staring hard at them for a moment before looking at him as his words land. “I’m…sorry?”

He smirks, and?—

No! No, Shae. Down girl.

“Stop saying that. Don’t be sorry because I’m not.” It takes a second for his words to compute, and when they do, I’m certain I’m misunderstanding them.

Because there’s no way on earth Storm Sandoval is saying what I think he’s saying.

“In fact, I think you just cured my anxiety,” he adds, his smirk growing wider.

I’m stunned, so all I can say is, “Oh.”

He breathes in deeply and I do the same, as if my body were tied to his.

“I don’t think you have any idea what I think of you, Shae.” And that’s it. He says my name, and the way he rolls the vowels feels as intimate as if he’d touched me.

“You…think of me?” I say, and I’m grateful I deliver the words without a crack in my voice.

He chuckles. “Oh, yes. I think about you.” He moves then and places the capped Nalgene on the floor. With a sort of grace that reminds me he definitely plays some kind of sport, he closes the gap between us.

“I like you, Shae Rivers. I like you a lot. So yes, I think about you. A lot.”

The words hang between us, and the emergency lights slash across half of his face. The Wintermint scent from the gum cools my cheeks, but still, it does nothing for the way my panties are getting damp.

“Oh?” I say again and lick my lips.

“Don’t do that, Sweetness,” he grinds out, and holy hell—with him that close to me and the way the words rumble from his mouth….

“Don’t do what?” I ask meekly. My head drops back against the wall as he comes closer. Even closer.

“Don’t lick those delectable lips. Not unless you want me to lick them for you next.”

Oh.

The hot spot between my legs Kegels involuntarily as I assess my options, but everything spins in my brain. I’m a smart woman, but everything in this moment boils down to the space between Storm Sandoval and me.

And how I want to eliminate the gap.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, then I whimper, because this close, I get a true glimpse of his panty-melting smile. When I lick my lips again, Storm’s face transforms. Gone is his teasing, sensual grin, and in its place is…darkness.

Oh, holy hell. What have I gotten myself into?

“What did I say about you saying ‘sorry?’”

9

STORM

Life is really fuckin’ funny. That’s the only way to rationalize how, twenty minutes ago, I was about to have a body-stealing panic attack, and now I’m inches from Shae Rivers, ready to claim the mouth that’s featured in entirely too many fantasies over the month since she crashed into my life.

Our minty breaths mingle, and despite the darkness, I track the rise and fall of her heavy breasts trapped beneath her tank top.

God, I want to caress them with my palms. I want to slide my dick between them—my dick which is as hard as a baseball bat at the moment.

---