Westmoreland Desires: Riding the Storm / Jared's Counterfeit Fiancée / The Chase Is On. Brenda Jackson
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the door. As he waited for her to answer it, he hoped to God that he wasn’t making a huge mistake.
He was about to knock again when he heard the sound of her voice on the other side. “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Jayla. Storm.”
She slowly opened the door and the anticipation of the removal of the solid piece of wood that stood between them sent a shiver of desire up his spine and down to his midsection. When she opened the door enough for him to see her, the sight of her nearly knocked him to his knees like a gale-force wind. It was obvious that she had just gotten out of the shower. Her hair was loose, flowing around her shoulders, and there were certain parts of her, not covered by her short bathrobe, that were still wet. He itched to take the robe off her to see what, if anything, she was wearing underneath it.
“Storm, what are you doing here?”
Her voice, low in pitch yet high in sensuality, rapidly joined forces with desire that had already taken over his body. He was almost afraid to stand there and look at her. Too much longer and he might be driven to topple her to the floor and make love to her then and there.
“Storm?”
Claiming that he just happened to be in the neighborhood would sound pretty lame when she lived in North Atlanta and he resided in the southern part of town. Believing that honesty was the best policy, he decided to tell her the truth as his gaze locked on hers. “Seeing you today made me realize something,” he murmured softly as he leaned in her doorway.
He watched her throat move when she swallowed. “What?”
“That I didn’t get enough of you in New Orleans. I want you again.”
He heard her inhale sharply and the sound triggered the memory of how her voice would catch just seconds before she came. His mind was remembering and his body was, too. He was tempted to pull her close and let her feel just how hard she was making him. “May I come in?” he decided to ask when she didn’t say anything.
“Storm…”
“I know I shouldn’t have come and I’m just as confused about showing up here as you are,” he quickly said. “But seeing you today really did do something to me, Jayla, and it’s something that’s never happened to me before. It was as if my body went on overload and you’re the only person who can shut it down. Since returning from New Orleans, I’ve been constantly reminded of the best sex I’ve ever had, and tonight I couldn’t handle things any longer.”
He sighed deeply. There. He’d said it. He’d been honest and upfront with her, although it had nearly killed him to admit such a thing. Even to his ears his predicament sounded almost like an addiction. His blood was pumped up a notch. Every muscle in his body ached at the thought of making love to her again and a part of him knew the look in his eyes was just shy of pleading. He might even go so far as to follow the Temptations’ lead and sing out loud, “Ain’t Too Proud To Beg.”
It was all rather pathetic, but at the moment there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Jayla Cole was under his skin…at least temporarily. Just one more time with her should obliterate this madness. At least, that’s what he hoped.
He watched her as she tried to make up her mind about him, but patience had never been one of his strong points and he couldn’t help asking, “So are you going to let me in?”
Silence filled the air.
Moments later, Jayla sighed deeply. Her mind was in battle over what she should do versus what she wanted to do. She knew what she should do was send Storm packing after reminding him of their agreement. But what she really wanted to do was give him what she knew they both desired.
Just one more time, she decided. What could possibly be wrong in giving in to an indulgence just one more time? However, more than just once would be a complication she didn’t need. Her heart hammered hard in her chest. She knew once he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, that would be the end of it…or the beginning. But as her body began to slowly tremble, her control began slipping. She knew that tonight she needed him just as much as he seemed to need her. He was right. This was madness.
“Yes,” she finally said, taking a step back. “You can come in.”
He entered and closed the door behind him. Locked it. The click sounded rather loud in the now awkward silence between them. That small sound was enough to push her heart into overdrive, making it beat that much faster.
“Thirsty?” she asked, deciding she should at least offer him a drink.
“Yes, very.”
She turned toward the kitchen and was surprised when he reached out, gently grabbed her, pulled her close to him and wrapped his arms around her. “This is what I’m thirsty for, Jayla. The taste of you.”
When her lips opened on a breathless sigh, his tongue swept into her mouth as if he needed to taste her as much as he needed to breathe. His lips were hot and demanding, and his tongue was making love to her mouth with an intensity that overwhelmed her. Helpless to do anything else, she looped her arms around his neck and held on while the heat of him consumed her, breaching any barrier and snatching away any resistance she might have had.
Too late. He was inside and intended to fill her to capacity in more ways than one.
She pushed good judgment, initial misgivings and any lingering doubts aside. She would deal with them later. Right now, being in Storm’s arms this way was most important and demanded her full concentration. And everything about him—his scent, his strength, his very sensuality—permeated her skin, seeped into her blood and sent her senses spinning.
When he tore his mouth away from hers, she drew in a long audible sigh. She looked up at him and the air surrounding them seemed to crackle with ardent awareness. He reached out and traced a slow path down the center of her neck, then slowly pushed aside her robe to reveal what was underneath.
Nothing.
She heard his sharp intake of breath and he pushed the robe off her shoulders to the floor. “A few moments ago, I was thirsty for your mouth, but now I’m starving for this,” he said reaching out and stroking her between the legs. “Once I get you in bed, I plan to make love to you all night.”
His voice was low, uneven and so sexy that it sent shock waves all through her body. She met his gaze, saw the deep darkening of his eyes and any grip she had on reality slipped, joining her robe on the floor.
“That’s a promise I intend to hold you to, Storm Westmoreland,” she said on a breathless sigh, just seconds before he swept her into his arms.
Eight
“Which way to your bedroom?”
“Straight ahead and to your right.”
Storm didn’t waste any time taking her there and immediately placed her naked body in the middle of the bed. He took a step back to look at her. For a moment, he couldn’t move, too overwhelmed by her beauty to do anything but to take it all in…and breathe. He ached to make love to her, and sink his body into the wet warmth of hers.
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