Eye of the Storms (Eye of the Storms #1)

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

©2013 Eyes of the Storms by Lisa Gillis

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

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Dedicated to rock star readers of the series. This anniversary edition is the original story of Jack and Marissa with the POV and steamy scenes restored.

Looking back, everything about that day was a perfect storm.

My bestfriend’s score of two VIP passes the day before the Hang Fest. A giant hurricane with a generous shot of alcohol. A sexy metal musician who was opposite of my cheating fiancé in every way.

Those inked-up muscled arms holding a tiny puppy protectively to his bare chest told me there was more to him than met the eye.

I had to know more.

That's true. A Perfect Storm.

There was the puppy my sister forced on me as an exercise in commitment.

And for damn sure, the cutoff shorts and tight sleeveless top Mariss was wearing that day. The tan lines on her legs well past the very short hem, and the one way above the very low neckline told me the packaging on this girl was deceptive.

I had to know more. Much more.

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She was beautiful. Not in a perfect model way—in a simple and subtle way. Long ass legs, almost too long for her petite body and tiny waist. Skinny. On the borderline of too skinny for my taste, but curvy enough in all the right places. In fact, of all the women I’d known, Marissa’s tits and ass now outranked my top favorites.

Chugging a bottled water, I eyed her as she held her clothing modestly over her privates while leaving the bed. That was okay though. I guess I could live with her covering that sweet stuff in the front. Now if she would only turn around… Although my hands had been all over her backside, I hadn’t laid eyes on it nearly as much as I wanted.

And there it was…

When she pivoted to the bathroom I almost dropped the water.
Her ass
. As perfect as it had felt in my hands.

The bathroom door closed off this view. Disappointed I clenched the empty water bottle while picking up a foil packet and other trash from the floor. This was something that had been drilled into my head—making sure all of my little swimmers were accounted for. There had been cases of women secretly collecting the used condoms of their celebrity bangs in an evil attempt to conceive a million dollar baby.

Not that Marissa would.

I didn’t think.

It was just habit.

As I moved about, I repeatedly reconciled myself to the realization of never seeing her again.

Sometimes with some women, this was hard. Occasionally I invited one to ride around show to show for a few days. But this one, she didn’t look like the type to say yes. We had talked very little, but enough for me to know she had a job at a casino.

My eyes fell on one of the clips from her hair. As I reached for it, I couldn’t help but notice her phone also on the floor close by. Grabbing it up, I debated with myself as I placed the hair accessory on a table next to my phone… and then continued to eye my cell.

When was the last time I had given some random girl my real number? High school? If I gave women my number, it was the digits to the disposable minutes’ cell.

So why had I now picked up my personal phone in this thought process? But I knew. Because if I gave Marissa my number, I didn’t want it to be one I might later toss away like trash. My temporary phones tended to have a life of about three months before the contacts became a nuisance. I couldn’t consider a time Marissa would ever be a problem.

Sliding the screen open, I delayed the decision while looking at the apps littering the screen of her phone. Finally punching my number in, I let it ring once before ending the call and setting her phone on the countertop.

My gaze went to the bathroom door, and my ears honed in on the sound of the water. Hooking my thumbs into my still unbuttoned jeans, I hesitated.

“Need any help in there?” My knuckles made light contact with the door while I made the inquiry. Her voice was muffled, and I entered the tiny cubicle of a room. “Was that a yes?”

“No,” she retorted, and my pounding heart dropped. Other parts of me picked up, straining against the restraint of clothing as I voyeured her through fogged glass. My hand was on the door to retreat when she used a finger to wipe a clear circle on the glass. Raccoon eyes peered through, and she curved the impish smile I had seen several times in the last hour or so. “No. It wasn’t a yes… I said, ‘hell yes!’”

Confusion muddled my mind for a minute before I understood the joke and shucked my jeans off in less than a second.

Steam poured into my face when I swung the glass open. Two of the most tantalizing curves on her body brushed my chest as I squeezed into the space-saving shower.

Pulling her against my length, I inhaled the scents of my own soap and shampoo which somehow smelled so different when it was in her hair and on her skin. She began sliding down my front, and mesmerized, I studied the top of her wet head and enjoyed the friction of her wet skin as she dropped.

Although we had used something for the main events earlier, I had broken my required rubber rule during the blowjob. So neither of us gave it a thought now. Without preamble, she had me gripping the walls for balance. I stopped her within seconds. Faster than I wanted to, but I did, after all, have a show in a little over an hour, and fun favors to return…

Lip service was not something I performed on strangers. Hell, I didn’t even kiss a woman when I was banging her. I didn’t have to impress. I was Jack Storm. Just being naked in my company kept them creaming. Kisses on the lips—or lips—only came natural when I found myself in a relationship.

I’d had several relationships ongoing as friends, and a few who were more. The few who were more hadn’t lasted over six months. The friends with benefits arrangements had gone on for years.

So why this Marissa? Why was she different? I had no idea. I only knew I wanted to rock her world like it had never been shaken before. And I wanted to taste her…again…

I loved every sound she made when I knelt before her, and I loved feeling her nails biting into my shoulders. She orgasmed with a melodic pitch, which cracked at the end of one long hum. I’d heard it enough in the last couple of hours now to be familiar with it, to fall for it. Her legs gelled, her weight falling to her palms on my shoulders.

Reflexively, I gripped her hips. Straightening, I quickly pulled her close, wanting to feel the pound of her heart and uneven breathing—wanting to experience the physiological effect I’d had on her, now that I’d heard the audible.

My hands slipped from her tits around to her backside, and remembering the quick glimpse of her ass, I spun her away for another look.

I could look at that view forever. Her arms were bent, palms to the faux tile pattern on the wall, and her head rested forward on the tiles. A totally submissive stance. And having this woman at my complete will turned me on like I hadn’t been in so long. As much as her ass was my eye candy, my hands itched to be filled by her tits, and I curved my fingers to their soft, firm weight.

Pressing my length to hers, I savored the way she fit to me, and before I knew it, I was pressing to her… wanting more…

“Mariss, you want this?”

“You want this, Mariss?”

Do I want it? Did he really just ask that? Twice?

I had never wanted anything more—and I didn’t even know what exactly it was that he was asking permission for!

Hot and hard, every part of him was smashed to me. My head fell back to rest on his shoulder. I took in the colorful forearms braced to the tile, and the sinewy upper arms that penned me against him and the wall.

His lips came to the crook of my neck as he asked again, seeking a verbal answer in addition to my grind against him.

Whatever he was asking, I was up for it. Things I would say yes to for him and no one else. What’s more, I had no idea why my body acted in blind loyalty to his every desire.

“I want it… Yes… oh shit… mmh… Yes!”

One arm dropped, fingers slipping onto and into places that felt so good. His other arm fell, curving possessively around my waist, and I gasped when we came closer than close. I had the presence of mind to brace my own hands against the tile to avoid a concussion and trusted the rest of my well-being to his hold.

There was something sexy about the echo of our voices. When all was silent except for the splash of the cooled water, he was balancing both of us. My faculties returned from that dizzying ride, and I could tell his strength was back by the way he was moving about in the cramped space, letting the water rinse him from head to toe.