Page 51 of Riding the Storm
I curse softly and shut the water off.
I wrap a towel around my waist and pad barefoot into the kitchen, open the fridge, and stare at the sad excuse for food inside—leftover chili Evelyn sent home with me a couple of days ago, a bag of red grapes, some shaved ham, sliced cheese, and a bottle of beer. My stomach growls anyway.
I reach for the beer, twist the cap, and take a swig. The fizz burns my throat, and I’m halfway to grabbing the chili to nuke in the microwave when I hear it.
A knock.
It’s soft, hesitant, like whoever’s out there doesn’t really want to be heard.
I glance at the clock over the stove. Just past midnight.
Another knock.
Fainter this time.
For a second, I think maybe it’s just the wind bumping one of the old rockers against the side of the cabin.
I hear it again—three quick taps. Maybe Cabe’s checking in after getting the girls inside.
I set the beer on the counter, and the floor creaks under my bare feet as I go to answer.
When I pull open the door, the last thing I expect is her.
Charli stands there in the moonlight, wearing nothing but an oversize T-shirt that hits mid-thigh and a pair of scuffed cowboy boots.
For a heartbeat, neither of us says a word. The only sound is the wind moving through the pines.
Then she looks up at me and says, “This means nothing.”
Before I can process that, she grabs my neck and crashes her mouth to mine.
It’s all heat and chaos and surprise. She still tastes of tequila, and I don’t even think; I just react. She jumps, and instinct kicks in. I catch her around the thighs as her legs lock around my waist. The towel around me slips, but hell if I care.
I back us inside, kicking the door shut with my heel. The sound echoes through the cabin.
Her hands are in my hair; mine are gripping her tighter than needed. She’s warm and soft and kissing me like she’s afraid I’ll disappear.
I step forward, pinning her against the door, and she pulls back just long enough to whisper, “Nothing.”
I manage a hoarse laugh against her mouth.
“Sure,” I say, voice rough. “Whatever you say, boss.”
Then I kiss her again, and the world just … catches fire as my hands go under her shirt and cup her ass to hike her up higher, and I press my body into her to hold her in place.
She begins to tremble with need, arching her back so her soft breasts skim the hard plane of my chest. She slides her hands from my shoulders down my back, the tips of her fingers digging into the muscle.
I let out a guttural groan as I drag my lips down the column of her throat, sucking and nipping as I make my way to her collar.
The need that pulses through me catches me off guard.
Never has a woman lit a fire this intense in me.
Never.
She grips me tighter as my mouth explores the peaks of her breaststhat are exposed above the deep V neckline of the tee. An exquisite sigh escapes her as I suck a nipple between my teeth through the thin cotton.
“God, that feels good.”
