His to Claim #5: Breaking Storm Page 4
He just wished he could believe it himself.
***
After the show, Storm felt drained. Usually he was energized and ready to go. Unwinding was usually difficult because adrenaline still pumped through him, but tonight he knew when his head hit the pillow, he’d fall headlong into sleep.
As soon as they got back to the room, he stripped off his clothes, just dropping them on the floor beside the bed and climbed under the sheets. Melanie headed into the bathroom.
But as soon as his head hit the pillow, thoughts of Melanie lying naked beside him sent his cock swelling. Like pinning her hands over her head and driving his hard cock deep into her, while she gasped his name. Or her refusing, then him dragging her over his knee and smacking her ass until it was red with his handprints.
He rolled onto his side and threw his arm over his face. Fuck, he didn’t want to want these things. The door closed and he felt her pull back the covers and slide into bed beside him. Her warm hand stroked over his naked back, then her delicate lips played along his spine, sending more blood pumping to his already aching erection.
He wanted to roll over and hold her down, overpowering her until she submitted to him completely, then drive into her like a piston, deep and hard again and again.
“Storm, are you asleep?”
Her words had to be meant as an icebreaker because she had to feel the tension in his body.
“No,” he said, his voice slurred by his tiredness, “but soon.”
He did not want to have sex with her in the strange mood he was in. With the primal cravings gripping him right now.
Damn, if he fucked her now, he might give in to those desires.
He might hurt her.
“Oh, I … thought maybe we should talk,” she said.
Fuck, he didn’t want to chance fucking her right now, and he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about last night, which was triggering these disturbing desires.
“Pretty tired,” he muttered.
***
Melanie stared at Storm’s big, naked back, feeling very rejected. He’d barely talked to her in the limo this morning, but then on the bus he’d been so sweet, taking an interest in her art. When he’d fallen asleep on the bus, he’d clearly been dreaming about her, or at least about sex, muttering indistinguishable words in his sleep. But when he’d woken up, he’d seemed distant and cold. Then after they’d checked into the room, he’d muttered something about having to prepare for the show, even though there’d been plenty of time. He’d disappeared from the room, leaving her alone and needy.
Now he’d turned his back on her. As if he couldn’t bear to touch her.
As if she disgusted him.
The next morning, when she woke up, Storm was gone. When she went down to breakfast, no one had seen him. She kept glancing at her watch as she ate breakfast with the others, then when she went up to pack, his bag wasn’t in the room. Maybe he’d taken it to reception when he’d left the room earlier.
She dropped her bag with the others by the bus and glanced around, but there was still no sign of him, and they were scheduled to leave in ten minutes.
“Hey, Melanie, where’s Storm?”
She turned at the sound of Travis’ voice. “I don’t know. I still haven’t seen him.”
Travis frowned. “His bike is gone.”
Storm had arranged to bring his bike on the trip. He hardly used it—there was rarely enough time—but it usually remained locked in the rack on the back of the bus. She glanced back and it was gone.
“Have you tried him on his cell?” she asked.
“Sure, but if he’s on the road, he won’t hear it.” Travis glanced at his watch. “Shit, we can’t afford to hang around waiting. We’ve got a tight schedule today.” He sighed. “Let’s get on board so we’re ready to go when he shows up.”
Twenty minutes later, he still hadn’t appeared.
“Okay, well, that’s it. We’ve got to get moving,” Travis declared. He signaled to the bus driver and he started up the vehicle and pulled away from the curb.
Melanie’s heart clenched. When she’d worked for him, as Rafe Ranier, he’d prided himself on never being late, and that was one of the characteristics he’d kept as Storm.
There was only one explanation. He’d decided to walk away.
Even so, she couldn’t believe he wouldn’t have told Travis he was leaving the band. He might be angry and disgusted with her, but she was surprised he’d leave the guys hanging.
As they traveled, she stared out the window, confusion swirling through her. She knew she was just feeling insecure. Even if Storm had been angry or upset after their foursome, deep in her heart she felt he would talk to her about it, not just walk away without a word. That’s not the type of man he was.
After about a half hour, Diego stopped by to see her.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked.
“No, I’d like that.” She did not want to be left alone with her thoughts.
“How are you doing?”
“I don’t know. I don’t understand why he didn’t show up.”
“It’s not like him, but maybe he needed to blow off some steam,” Diego said. “Go for a long ride on his bike to clear his head, then lost track of the time.”
She gazed at him, searching his warm, brown eyes. “He’s been acting so strange.” Her fingers twined together as she stared at him. “I think he’s upset after our … uh … special night together.”
He smiled. “It was special, belleza. Don’t let anyone else’s attitude make you feel bad about that. We all agreed to the experience and everyone, including Storm, enjoyed it.” He smiled and stroked her cheek. “It was sensational. You did nothing wrong.”
“So you think that’s why he left, too.”
He shrugged again. “I really don’t know. He’s been struggling with some shit for a long time now. Who knows what set him off?” He shook his head. “Just don’t take the blame on yourself. Okay?”
She sucked in a deep breath as he sent her a reassuring smile. “Okay.”
But it was an empty word. She couldn’t help feeling that she’d driven him away.
“Yeah. I understand,” Travis said into his cell as he walked along the aisle of the bus toward her and Diego. “Thanks for letting us know.” He shoved his phone into his pocket, then stared at her with a grim expression.
“Melanie, that was about Storm.”
Her stomach dropped like a rock. She stared at him, barely able to breathe.
“What is it?” she finally managed to utter.
“That was Storm’s brother. Storm’s been in an accident.”
Also by Opal Carew
Bliss
Forbidden Heat
Secret Ties
Six
Blush
Swing
Twin Fantasies
Pleasure Bound
Total Abandon
Secret Weapon
Insatiable
Illicit
His to Command
His to Possess
About the Author
Opal Carew is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of fourteen previous erotic romances for St. Martin’s Press. To learn more, visit her on the Web at www.opalcarew.com.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
HIS TO CLAIM: BREAKING STORM. Copyright © 2014 by Opal Carew. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Patricia “Pickyme” Schmitt
eISBN 978-1-4668-5761-2
First Edition: June 2014
eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.
Find
out how it all began! Read Jessica and Storm’s novel
His to Possess
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Riding Steele
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