Taming the Storm (The Storm, #3)

Exiting the bathroom, I see that the curtain to Tom’s bunk is open.

My stomach fizzes from just knowing he’s out here—which is crazy.

What am I? Twelve?

Pushing my attraction for Tom out of my mind, I brace myself to see him.

Ignoring my attraction for him lasts about three seconds until I see him sitting at the table, and my hormones go into overdrive from the sight of him. With still damp hair, he’s wearing an ancient-looking Clash Rock the Casbah T-shirt and ripped blue jeans. There’s a cup of coffee in front of him and an empty cereal bowl, a box of Froot Loops, and a carton of milk off to the side. He has a newspaper in his hands.

But one thing is noticeably gone—his beard. He’s clean-shaven.

Did he do that because of me? Because of what I said about hating his beard?

Don’t be so conceited, Lyla.

Taking a deep breath, I push my shoulders back and walk toward him.

His eyes lift from the paper to me. His gaze almost burns a hole in my panties.

“Mornin’, Firecracker,” he drawls. His voice sounds all deep and throaty.

Smoking hot.

I ignore the Firecracker nickname. I figure there’s no point in arguing it because he’d get a rise out of it.

I smile and force a neutral tone into my voice as I say, “Good morning.”

Deciding to join Tom in eating kid cereal, I head straight to the cupboard. I reach up onto my tiptoes and get a bowl, and then I grab a spoon from the drawer. I take a seat across from him, pour myself some Froot Loops, and drown them in milk.

When I glance across at Tom, I see his eyes are on my chest, and his greens are on fire. Jade is almost burning blue.

It’s then I realize I’m not wearing a bra.

Shit.

And this is the exact moment that my nipples decide to stand to attention under Tom’s heated gaze.

Fuckity fucking shit.

Okay, so I’ve got one of two choices. One, I can get embarrassed, run to my room and put on a bra, but I know if I do that, it will only give him future ammo to tease me. Or two, I can act cool.

Cool it is.

Raising my arms above my head, I pretend to stretch, which of course pushes my girls out and in his direction.

I have to stifle a giggle at the look on his face. His eyes are as wide as saucers.

Then, he drags his tongue across his lower lip.

Fire licks between my thighs.

Gulping, I lower my arms. I put my sweetest-sounding voice on as I say, “Um, Tom?”

His eyes slowly lift to mine. The look is still there, and I have to stop from squirming under his lusty stare.

“Unless the human body changed overnight, eyes are up here.” I point two fingers at my eyes.

His face cracks into a grin, and a throaty laugh sounds from him. He lowers the paper to the table. “Sorry. You just have a great fucking rack. It’s hard not to stare.” He grazes his lower lip with his teeth.

A blaze of heat strokes up the back of my neck, threatening to circle and set my face ablaze.

“Well, try to do your best. Respect goes both ways.”

He lifts his shoulders. “Maybe you could wear a bra. That might help. Actually, no, it wouldn’t.”

“God, you’re such a pig!” I exclaim. “Seriously, would you like it if I just sat and stared at the huge bulge in your pants all day?”

Did I actually just say that? And did I really call his bulge huge?

Oh God.

A full smirk spreads across his gorgeous face. “Firecracker, are you asking me if I would like it if you sat and looked at my cock all day?” He grins, his eyes questioning me. “Are you sure you want me to answer that question? Because you know it would be a resounding—”

I throw my hand up, stopping him. “Stop! Seriously, I don’t want to know.” I’m laughing as I say this, and Tom rewards me with a boyish laugh.

Smiling, I dip my spoon into my cereal and load it up.

Tom is watching me, but the fun in his face is gone now, replaced with something a little more serious. His fingers start to tap against the table.

I swallow down my cereal and milk. “Everything okay?” I gesture to him with my spoon.

“I spoke to Jake last night. He told me about Rally, that he’s your dad.”

The cereal I just swallowed hits my stomach like rocks.

I put the spoon down in the bowl. “Oh, right. Okay…and do you have any issues with that?”

He tilts his head to the side, looking confused. “Why would I have issues with it?”

“Because my father is an asshole, and he’s caused you and your friends a lot of problems over the years.”

“Trust me, we’ve endured worse than what Rally has thrown at us.”

“So, you don’t dislike me now by association?”

He gives me a wicked smile. “Ah, so you do care whether I like you or not?”

Not wanting to answer that question, I give a noncommittal shrug of my shoulders. I pick my spoon back up and start eating again.

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