A Promise of Thunder (23 page)

“What about Summer Sky?” Storm asked breathlessly.

“We were childhood friends and marriage to her was a confirmation of the love and respect we felt for one another. When we
married we were still children who needed to grow both emotionally and physically. Unfortunately, Summer Sky didn’t live to realize her full potential. You are her complete opposite in nature.”

“Tell me about Summer Sky. How did she die?”

“No, not now. I need you too much. The time for talking will come later. Much later. For the first time in months I have my wife in bed with me, lying naked in my arms.”

He was still resting atop her and he suddenly realized that the dampness from her wet skin was seeping through his clothing. “You’re wet, sweet, let me dry you.”

Before Storm realized exactly how he intended to dry her, he lowered his head and began licking the beads of moisture from her breasts. The pad of his thumb caressed her nipple, and Storm felt her breast swell and harden in response to his touch. Threads of fire spiraled outward, bringing a gasp from her lips. Then he took each nipple in turn in his mouth and gently laved the hardening buds with his tongue. After what seemed like an eon to Storm, his lips shifted lower, lapping the moisture from her belly and sipping from her navel. Her body trembled as his mouth drifted across her skin, his tongue flicking and soothing by turn, until his lips shifted lower and the tiny bud of her pleasure was captured by the hot sucking of his mouth.

“Grady!” Storm expelled his name on a
breathless murmur of pleasure.

Abruptly Grady raised his head, his lopsided grin sending her heart spinning. “You’re right, sweetheart, it’s too soon.” Then he rose to his feet and began removing his clothes. Storm stared in mute admiration when he stood in all his naked glory before her. She doubted there was a man dead or alive to compare with him. Wide of shoulder, broad of chest, narrow of waist, legs like twin oaks, skin the color of tawny bronze. Taut-fleshed, thickly muscled, supple, every splendid inch of him exuding raw power and masculinity. Just looking at him gave her goosebumps.

This time Storm needed no urging to reach out and touch him, for her hands moved with a will of her own. He groaned in sweet agony when the fingers of both hands closed around his powerful erection, stroking in the way he had taught her.

“Oh, lady, you do know how to drive a man crazy.”

“Just the way you do me,” Storm whispered in a voice made raspy with need.

“Are you ready for another lesson?”

“You mean there is more to learn than you’ve already taught me?” Storm asked with wonder. The thought boggled her mind.

“You have no idea.” Then he grasped her wrists and pulled her from the bed, leaving a damp spot where she had lain.

Storm waited with baited breath to see what Grady would do next. She was somewhat startled
when he sat down on the bed and lifted her over his lap until she straddled him and her knees rested on either side of him. “Are you comfortable, sweet?” Unable to speak, Storm merely nodded. “Kiss me.”

She did, covering his mouth just as his lips opened and he thrust his tongue into her mouth. His tongue tasted her deeply, joined hers, battled hers, demanding that she yield to him all that he required. Just when Storm despaired of ever breathing again, Grady allowed her a brief respite. But her breathlessness returned when he took her swollen nipples into his mouth, laving them with the rough, wet edge of his tongue. First one, then the other. A startled cry left Storm’s throat when she felt Grady’s hands slip between her spread thighs. He heard her soft intake of breath as he began stroking her. When his finger slid inside her she nearly jumped off his lap. Then all thought skidded to a halt as her mind expelled everything but what Grady was doing to her and how he made her feel.

She wanted to touch him everywhere, kiss him everywhere as his sweet torment drove her high and higher. Her kisses fell wherever they could touch, his face, his neck, his shoulders, while her hands slid over the firm flesh of his back and buttocks, glorying in his virile, masculine strength and magnificent control.

“Oh, lady, hurry, I can’t wait much longer. I want to be inside you so bad I ache.” His teeth
were tightly clenched, his eyes closed, his face stark with anguish.

His words came to her as if from a great distance. But she understood enough of them to know that Grady needed her as much as she needed him, that he was deliberately withholding himself in order to bring her pleasure. Lifting herself slightly, she shoved aside his hands and slowly impaled herself on his rock-hard erection. He groaned so loudly Storm was certain Laughing Brook could hear him in the next room.

Gritting his teeth, Grady let her set the pace, watching her passion-glazed face as she grasped his shoulders for leverage and moved slowly up and down his hardened length. Trying to concentrate on anything but the profound need to explode inside Storm’s receptive body, Grady took a nipple into his mouth and began suckling. Then, suddenly, he could wait no longer. The time for delay was long past; his body demanded satisfaction. Grasping Storm’s hips, he worked her up and down furiously, his breath harsh as it exploded from his lungs.

“Oh, Grady!”

“Now, Storm, now!”

He could feel it coming from his toes and working upward, traveling through his entire body in wave after wave of incredible sensation. The moment Storm felt the hot stream of fluid spurt against the walls of her womb her own tremors began, so violent she screamed out once, twice, then collapsed in a boneless heap
on Grady’s lap. After several minutes Grady eased her down on the bed, lying beside her and pulling the coverlet over them. It was a full five minutes before either of them could speak.

“Allow me a few minutes and I’ll teach you another way in which to love,” Grady whispered into her ear. He chuckled when her honey brown eyes grew round and her mouth flew open.

“How can you?
Again
, I mean. Buddy never …” Her face flushed and she looked away, suddenly recalling one of the reasons she had resisted making love with Grady. Buddy had never made her feel the way Grady did.

“Storm, look at me.” His commanding tone brought her head swiveling around. “I’m not Buddy. Buddy is dead, just as Summer Sky is dead. But we’re alive and life goes on.”

“I loved Buddy.”

“And I loved Summer Sky. But she was the love of my youth. I realize that now and I will treasure that love always, just as I will treasure the son she gave me.”

“And I will treasure Buddy’s love,” Storm said slowly. It suddenly dawned on her that she and Grady were much alike. That they had both loved and lost mates dear to them. And Grady had been right about their mates being the loves of their youths. She had never felt the wild, abiding passion for Buddy that she did for Grady or experienced pleasure such as Grady gave her. But a voice inside her whispered that
she’d be foolish to believe Grady’s words meant he loved her.

“I—I don’t want to take Summer Sky’s place,” Storm said hesitantly.

“No one can ever take Summer Sky’s place,” Grady said fiercely. “She was the mother of my son.” His words were like a knife thrust to her heart and as close to a denial of love as any Storm had ever heard.

“I hope this passion we share will be enough to build a marriage,” she said wistfully.

Grady looked at her sharply. In her own way, was Storm trying to tell him she could never love him? he wondered bleakly. It didn’t matter, he tried to tell himself. She would make a wonderful mother for his son, and obviously she cared for him a little or she wouldn’t respond with such passion to his loving. Better to accept what Storm freely offered, he reasoned, than to long for what could never be.

“If passion is all we will ever have, then I will settle for that,” Grady finally said, “as long as you are content.”

Content? Storm thought bitterly. Hardly that. Why couldn’t Grady love her as deeply as he had loved Summer Sky? It would be so easy to love Grady if only he wanted her love, she reflected sadly. Though he gave every appearance of accepting the white man’s life, she knew that deep in his heart he still harbored bitterness and resentment for the white race. Until he learned that violence begat violence and that a heart filled with hate soon withered and died,
there was little hope of their finding love.

“For the time being I am content,” Storm said. “But the first time you go courting violence or allow another woman to come between us, I will leave you and Tim.”

“I am done with violence. Avenging Summer Sky’s death has turned me from my family and friends. I pray someday they will forgive me for the abrupt way in which I left six years ago.”

“Have you ever thought of returning for a visit?”

Grady remained silent so long Storm thought he hadn’t heard the question. She started to repeat it, but his soft words forestalled her. “Many times, but I am afraid.”

“Afraid,” Storm scoffed. “I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”

“Sometimes the bitterness in my heart frightens me.” His strangled words sounded as if they were torn from his soul, but Storm heard them and was stunned by the anguish he was suffering. It was also the first time he had truly opened up to her about his past.

“Perhaps if you told me about Summer Sky’s death it might help,” Storm suggested hopefully.

Silence.

“Grady? I truly want to help you.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, I will tell you. It happened six years ago …”

Storm turned in Grady’s arms until she could see the harsh outline of his face in the lamp’s dull glow. The flickering light danced provocatively on his stark features, revealing all the misery and anguish he was suffering.

“I take it Summer Sky’s death was unexpected.”

Grady snorted bitterly. “Not only was it unexpected but an act of depraved cruelty by despicable men.”

Storm held her breath, waiting for him to continue without being prodded. She truly believed that by opening up to her some of the hurt and bitterness he harbored in his heart would heal.

Grady’s mind traveled backward in time, reliving again that terrifying day when his
whole world fell apart. He had been barely twenty-two years old and Summer Sky a few months younger. Tim wasn’t quite a year old, and Summer Sky was already swelling with his second child.

When he spoke again his voice was devoid of all emotion.

“I was with Father the day it happened, helping round up horses for the army, and Mother was visiting a sick neighbor. Summer Sky took the wagon to town to purchase material for baby clothes. She left Tim at home with Sweet Grass, Summer Sky’s mother. Summer Sky’s parents lived on the ranch, where Jumping Buffalo worked for Father. That’s why Summer Sky and I were raised together. Laughing Brook was three years younger than we were. A boy, born later, died at birth; only the girls survived.”

He paused, dragging in a ragged breath that seemed to sear his lungs. Storm didn’t know if he would continue, but he cleared his throat and proceeded in a toneless voice, as if reciting something that had been indelibly etched upon his brain.

“Somewhere between the ranch and town, Summer Sky was attacked by three desperadoes. We learned what happened from Summer Sky before she died. She said that three thugs stopped the wagon and began tormenting her, calling her ‘Indian squaw’ and ‘white man’s whore.’ They noticed her pregnancy and taunted her about carrying a white man’s bastard.

“Oh, Grady, how terrible,” Storm said, genuinely appalled.

“Summer Sky was the gentlest, most giving creature alive,” Grady replied bitterly. “She wouldn’t have hurt a living soul. Her entire life was devoted to making me happy and raising our children in a peaceful atmosphere.”

“What happened then?” Storm prodded.

“One of the men lunged for her, pulling her down from the wagon. He held her while his friends began tearing off her clothes. She feared they would rape her and harm her unborn child. She reacted violently, fighting desperately for her life, but the men easily subdued her. They bore her to the ground and she screamed. Her screams must have frightened the horse hitched to the wagon, for she said it reared and began stomping the ground in a wild frenzy.

“The three men leaped out of the way, but Summer Sky did not react swiftly enough. She tried to protect her child, but the badly frightened animal stomped her viciously, injuring her gravely. The men fled when they saw how badly Summer Sky had been hurt. They might have saved her had they sought help for her immediately. Instead, they rode away and left her to abort her child in the dirt. Father and I found her hours later when we returned from the pasture. She lived long enough to tell me what happened before dying in my arms.”

Storm was horrified. No wonder Grady was so bitter. “What happened to the men who caused Summer Sky’s death?” Storm asked
softly. “Did they go to jail for their vicious act?”

Suddenly Grady seemed to come out of his lethargy. His expression grew fierce, his voice heated as he spat out his answer. “They could never be found. Since Summer Sky was merely an Indian, little effort was made to bring them to justice. From that day on I despised that part of me that was white. I hated the men responsible for the death of an innocent woman and I blamed the law for failing to find Summer Sky’s killers.”

Storm’s eyes grew misty, feeling compassion for the confused youth who had lost his wife and abandoned his family because of man’s inhumanity to his fellow man. The men responsible for Summer Sky’s death were cruel, vicious animals.

“So you left your parent’s ranch,” she whispered.

“They begged me not to go, pleaded with me to leave Tim in their care,” Grady recalled, “but my hate even extended to them. If Father hadn’t needed my help that day and if Mother hadn’t allowed Summer Sky to go into town alone, my wife might still be alive today. I’m afraid I said things I didn’t really mean before I left. My God, I’m appalled at how deeply I’ve hurt them,” he agonized.

“I’m sure they’ve forgiven you.”