Taming the Storm (The Storm, #3)

My brows draw together. “I didn’t lose—”

“No, but you’re going to in about five minutes. Lucky for me, the blonde wasn’t put off by your little show in there. She’s coming here, and I’m taking her up onto the bus and into your bedroom where I’m gonna spend all night fucking her brains out while you sit outside, one hundred dollars lighter, listening to the kind of sex a frigid bitch like you could only dream of having.”

If he’d shot me, I don’t think it would have hurt as much.

Tears sting my eyes. “Fuck you!” I yell, shoving him away. I turn and start to run toward the bus.

I just want to get away from him and to rid myself of this goddamn pain in my chest.

I almost make it to the bus, but Tom catches me and shoves me hard up against the side of the bus. My breath leaves me in a whoosh.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He presses his body onto mine.

My body starts to tremble.

“Me to fuck you. You were jealous, Firecracker. Admit it. That’s why you pulled your little stunt back there.”

I let out a laugh, but it sounds hollow, even to my own ears. “Jealous? You wish! I wouldn’t want you if you were the last man on Earth!” I’m saying this, but it’s clearly not true.

And he knows it.

If he can’t tell from the trembling of my body or my quick breaths or the fact that my eyes are glued to his lips, then all he would need to do is put his hand on my panties, and the damp evidence would be there for his confirmation.

“Yeah, well, the feeling is one hundred fucking percent mutual, sweetheart.”

He’s saying this, but I can tell from his quick breaths, the dilation of his pupils, and the fact that he’s dragging his teeth over his lower lip that he’s lying. And even if there weren’t all those signs, then his huge erection, which is currently pressed into my belly, would have told me all I needed to know.

“I think you’re a disgusting man slut,” I hiss, smoothing my hand up his bare chest.

His body shudders under my touch.

God, he feels so damn good.

Tom’s hand runs up my arm, skimming the edge of my breast. His fingers slide into my hair, and he pulls it down, tilting my face up to his. “And like I said, I think you’re a frigid bitch.”

I glare into his eyes. “I fucking hate you,” I seethe. But my voice sounds really breathless. Sexy breathless. I don’t sound like me at all.

He moves his mouth closer to mine. “Yeah, and that feeling is more than mutual.”

We’re locked together. Chests heaving. Neurons of sexual chemistry firing between us like bullets.

And I know all it’s going to take is one more move from either of us and we’ll be kissing.

Is that what I want?

I lick my lower lip.

The last thing I register is Tom growling out, “Fuck!”

Then, his mouth is on mine, hard and fast.

On a groan, I open up for him. His hot tongue plunges straight into my mouth, and he starts kissing me like a man starved. My hands go straight to his hair, and I attack his mouth with the same ferocity.

Tom’s large hands go to my ass, and he lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist, linking them at the ankles.

In this position, his erection is now nicely pressed up against the seam of my jeans, sending my whole body into a frenzy.

I moan. I can’t help it.

Seeming to like my response, Tom moves his hips back, and then he thrusts upward.

“Oh God,” I whimper. My eyes rolling, my head drops back against the bus with a thud.

Letting out a groan-fuelled chuckle, Tom starts on my neck, kissing and sucking his way back to my mouth. The whole time, he is torturously rubbing that amazing erection of his against my hot spot.

When his mouth reaches mine, he hesitates. Eyes on my face, he slowly moves his hand under my shirt.

Letting him know that I’m okay with the direction where this is heading, I run my tongue along his lower lip, and then I suck it into my mouth.

Tom’s hand cups my breast through my bra. His rough fingers trace over my hard nipple through the lace.

“Jesus, Lyla.” Staring down at my breasts, he lets out a groan. “Your tits feel even better than they look. So fucking good. I can’t wait to have them in my mouth.” His tongue trails his lower lip as he gives my breast a squeeze.

A lightning bolt of lust shoots straight to my core.

Bringing his mouth back to mine, he runs his tongue along the seam of my lips and then takes me into a deep lush kiss.

I turn to putty in his hands as he takes control of the kiss.

Takes control of me.

My fingers tighten in his hair. He groans in my mouth.

Weak spot.

I smile to myself.

Then, I hear the sound of loud voices. Cale, Sonny, and Van are heading straight in our direction.

Tom’s mouth disconnects from mine.

“Shit,” I gasp.

I stare into his eyes, unsure what to do. I don’t want the guys to see Tom and me together like this. And I’m thanking God right now that the bus parked next to ours is shielding us.

Samantha Towle's books