Heat of the Storm (2 page)

“The entire time I was gone, I was thinking of you.

Aching for you. So don’t try to shrug it off, or cal it a mistake. Because we both know it wasn’t.”
Warm hands cupping her breasts.

A pinch to her nipples.

Pain.

Pleasure.

Her thighs squeezed together and a gasp escaped her lips.

He was at her side in an instant, stroking her temples with his long fingers. “Hey, you al right?”

“I’m fine,” she squeezed out.

“What did you see?”

Damn it, why did he have to know her so wel ? She wished she’d never confided in him about the visions.

Past experience told her that most people didn’t understand the visions. Hel , she didn’t understand them either.

What she did understand was that it scared people.

Men, especial y. Her former boyfriends had never seemed to be able to handle the visions. They fled the moment a particularly upsetting one hit her, looking at her like she was the angel of death or something.

Though they vehemently denied it, claiming they were dumping her for an entirely different reason, she knew they considered her a freak.

And hel , sometimes she didn’t blame them.

Sometimes, usual y after seeing the death of someone she knew, she
felt
like a freak.

“What did you see?” Wil repeated.

Their gazes col ided and the fire she saw in his eyes sucked the breath out of her lungs like a vacuum.

He was so sexy. Magnetic eyes, chiseled features, and a sexy body that looked way too good in a pair of faded jeans and a snug T-shirt. His job as a SEAL

assured that he always stayed in shape, hard, sleek, and muscled. He was the best-looking man she’d ever known, and the one man she’d never al owed herself to get involved with. Her lovers never stayed in her life long. Her best friend, on the other hand? Wel , he was always by her side.

But would he remain there if he knew her intimately? If they shared a bed, if she woke him up from sleep with her screams and tears after a nasty vision? Not to mention her complete inability to lose control in the bedroom. She wasn’t one to give in to self-pity, but when it came to relationships, she was a mess. A freak.

And it would crush her, losing her best friend just because she’d been foolish enough to fuck him.

“Either we talk about what you saw, or we talk about the kiss.” Wil ’s brows were drawn together in a frown.

“Your choice, Mac.”

Neither. She wanted to talk about neither.

She edged toward the oversized leather sofa, hoping he’d take her silence and attempt at creating distance between them as a sign to back off. But the words
back off
were not part of his vocabulary and he only stepped closer, so that she was trapped between his big, hard body and the arm of the couch.

“Why did you kiss me?” he asked roughly.

She found the courage to meet his gaze. “I was upset about the break-up with Dan. And drunk. Very, very drunk. I…wasn’t thinking.”

He didn’t answer for a long while. So long that she didn’t think he would even reply. And she was right.

He
didn’t
reply. Instead, he grasped her chin with his hands and then his mouth covered hers.

The kiss was scarier than the vision. The kiss was
real
.

She was helpless to fight it, though the relentless ache between her legs wouldn’t have let her fight anyway. Wil ’s hot mouth rubbed over hers in a slow kiss, his lips firm but deliciously soft, his fingers warm against her cheeks. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue between her lips. He sought out her tongue and swirled over it, the taste of him assaulting her senses and making her knees wobble.

He immediately slid one hand to her waist to hold her steady, curling his fingers over her hip, his touch searing through the cotton material of her nightshirt and scorching her skin.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Al she was capable of doing was sagging into his hard chest and drowning in those intoxicating lips of his.

The kiss grew harder, greedy, almost frantic. He licked her bottom lip then sucked it hard into his mouth, eliciting a whimper from deep in her chest.

And his tongue…it was too demanding, too precise as it flicked over hers, thrust in and out of her mouth, mimicking what she knew he wanted to do to her with his cock.

Fire consumed her body, growing hotter and stronger when he shoved one hard thigh between her legs and ground against her throbbing core. The long ridge of his cock pressed into her mound. She could feel him pulsing, swel ing, and the thought of having al that hard, male flesh deep inside her made her gasp with pleasure.

“I want you, Mackenzie,” he murmured against her trembling lips. “Now. Always.”

The words swiftly jolted her back to reality. She stumbled back, nearly tripping over the couch before regaining her equilibrium. She blinked wildly, trying not to look at his flushed face, the wild lust glimmering in his black eyes. This was Wil . Her best friend since she was fifteen years old. For God’s sake, she couldn’t fal into bed with him, no matter how incredible a kisser he was, no matter how much her body shouted for her to do it.

“We can’t,” she managed, her voice sounding too desperate to her ears.

“We can,” he corrected.

Before she could move farther away, he pul ed her against him again and cupped her ass, pushing his pelvis into her so she could feel his unmistakable erection. He dipped his head, his lips hovering over her ear, his hot breath fanning over her skin. “You’ve been doing this to me from the moment I met you, Mac.”

“Wil —”

“Don’t.” His breath tickled her earlobe. “Don’t make excuses, or give me reasons why we can’t do this. I’ve stood patiently on the sidelines for fifteen years, watched you date other men, waited for you to see what’s in front of you. But I’m tired of waiting.” She swal owed back a moan as he took her earlobe into his mouth and suckled on it. Heart thudding against her ribcage, she wondered how it would feel having Wil suckle other parts of her body.

Her nipples instantly hardened. Her clit swel ed.

“You opened the door to this when you kissed me,” he continued huskily. “And if I didn’t think you wanted it, I’d turn around and walk out the door right now. But you want it, Mac. You want it very, very badly.” She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. She’d never seen him like this, so damn sure of himself, so cocky. God help her, but she liked it. And from the look on his sexy face, he knew it. She’d spil ed so many secrets to this man. She didn’t have many girlfriends, and sharing her deepest darkest fantasies with Wil , her closest friend, hadn’t seemed wrong at the time. Now it unnerved her, the knowledge that he knew precisely what she wanted from a lover.

He dragged his index finger along the seam of her lips and rotated his hips, his erection rubbing over the thin boxer shorts she’d worn to bed.

“You’re turned on, aren’t you?” he whispered.

The word “yes” slipped out before she could stop it.

A faint smile tugged at his sensual mouth. “Maybe we should do something about that.”

“You’re my best friend,” she squeaked.

“Not tonight.” He gave a decisive nod, punctuated by another thrust of his groin. “Tonight I’m not your friend, Mac. Tonight I’m the man who’s going to fuck you senseless.”

She moaned.

He merely smiled again, before his eyes narrowed and his features grew taut. “Last chance, Mac. If you want me to leave, say the word. If not, then you can’t fight this any longer.” He cocked his head, dark eyes cloudy with both anticipation and chal enge. “What’l it be?”

She swal owed. A part of her wanted to tel him to go, leave before things got out of hand. Another part of her realized that it was too late. This was already out of hand, and the only thing to do now was ride it out.

“Stay,” she murmured.

“Very good decision.”

He kissed her again, and this time she responded with fervor. As their tongues tangled, she couldn’t fight that wave of disbelief flooding through her, the voice that kept reminding her who she was playing tonsil hockey with at the moment. It was surreal, kissing Wil .

Surreal and yet so incredible she didn’t think she’d ever get enough.

Outside, the rain continued to pour from the sky, slapping into the house and causing the wal s to shudder as violently as her body. The sound of the pounding rain matched the pounding of her heart, the howl of the wind echoed the desire howling through her body.

She groaned in disappointment when Wil broke the kiss, but he ignored the protest and lifted her up into his arms. At five-eight, she could hardly be considered petite, but Wil made her feel as light as a feather as he carried her up the stairs and across the dark hal way toward her bedroom.

He deposited her on the bed, placed her on the already tangled sheets and shot her a pointed look.

“W-what is it?” she asked.

“You know what I want, Mac. Give it to me.” Her pulse raced, the thump-thump of her heart reverberating in her ears. The taunting rasp of his voice told her exactly what he wanted. What she’d confessed to wanting herself.

She drew in a breath and fil ed her lungs with much-needed oxygen. Then, never breaking the gaze, she shimmied out of her boxers and threw them aside.

Her pussy was exposed, smooth and bare from a recent visit to the salon, wet from the arousal Wil Charleston elicited inside her.

Darkness bathed the bedroom, making it hard to decipher his expression.

“Turn over.”

His order coincided with a flash of lightning that il uminated his face and revealed the seductive glimmer in those piercing black eyes.

Without taking off her nightshirt, she rol ed over and positioned herself so she was on her hands and knees. She lifted her ass into the air, stifling a moan when she heard him move closer. His clothing rustled, and then his hands caressed her bare bottom.

Shivers scurried down her spine. She waited.

“Wil ,” she murmured.

She flinched when she felt the sting of his palm against her ass.

“No talking.” His voice was gravel y. “I want you stay on your knees, stay quiet, while I do what I want with you.”

Moisture soaked her inner thighs. Who was this man? It couldn’t be Wil , couldn’t be the man she’d confided in and depended on for so many years. He had become a different person. Demanding, bold, sexy. She ought to be angry at him for talking to her this way, commanding her as if she were nothing more than a warm cunt solely there for his pleasure, but she wasn’t angry. She was aroused. Hot. Aching.

“That’s the fantasy, isn’t it, baby?” She felt his warm breath on her cheeks, tickling her exposed slit. “You don’t want to be in control anymore. You want a man who’l take what he pleases from you.” He was reciting her own words back to her, each one causing her to grow wetter.

Yes, it was what she wanted. What she’d always wanted. Living with the visions required holding on to every ounce of control and wil power she possessed.

She constantly had to keep herself grounded, restrained, if only to preserve her sanity, sanity that was threatened with each new vision. The restraint fol owed her into the bedroom, caused her to take charge of her sexual encounters so she wouldn’t feel vulnerable.

That’s how she felt right now. Vulnerable. And with that unfamiliar emotion came a sense of liberation.

“So are you going to be a good girl while I take what I want?” he asked roughly.

She managed a nod.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” she choked out.

“Good.”

She trembled when his finger slid down the crease of her ass toward her wet slit. He toyed with her opening, dipping his finger into the moisture pooled there. She thrust her ass out, desperate to feel those long, talented fingers inside her, but he ignored the silent protest and moved his hand away. His index finger danced north again, this time rubbing her ass, teasing the puckered hole. At the first feel of the erotic invasion, she clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip to stifle a cry of pleasure.

His soft chuckle broke through the silence draping over the dark room. “You like it, don’t you, baby? My finger inside your tight ass…”

She shuddered. Anticipation so great, so intense, slammed into her and had her sagging against the mattress. “Wil ,” she started, but he silenced her with another gentle slap.

He pushed the tip of his finger into her ass. When a moan escaped her lips, he spanked her again.

Oh God. She wasn’t sure she could take any more of this. Her entire body reacted to him. Muscles taut, legs quivering, nipples as hard as icicles.

The hiss of a zipper being tugged down fil ed the air. Wil ’s finger left her skin. She heard him slide out of his jeans, the denim making a soft thud as it hit the hardwood floor. Lightning flashed against the windowpane. A crash of thunder fol owed. She held her breath. She waited. And stil he made no move to touch her again.

Eagerness coiled in her bel y, wrapped hold of her breasts and her throbbing sex. Her skin was tight, muscles tense, and she knew, any second now, she’d explode. The ripples of her impending orgasm rose to the surface, danced just out of reach.

It seemed like hours before he spoke again.

“You’ve got such a sweet pussy,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to fuck it.”

She whimpered, wanting to beg him to do it, to slide his thick cock deep inside her, but she stayed quiet like he’d ordered.