Someone screams across the street, and I turn just as two little boys run through the front yard, shooting toy guns at each other and I smile. The streetlights are just coming on, and they cast a warm glow over the darkening neighborhood, giving it a cozy feel. Turning back to the house, I decide to just let this go tonight. I told myself I wasn’t going to overanalyze this but it’s all I’ve done. All I want to worry about tonight is a comfy pair of sweats and a glass of wine while I lose myself in some mindless television. I pull my keys out of my bag and unlock the door, setting my bag down on the entry table as I flick the light switch up.
Nothing happens.
Shit.
I peer into the pitch-black house but what I’m looking for, I have no idea. The fuse box is in the utility closet in the hall but I hate the dark. Even when I go to bed at night, I usually leave a small light on somewhere so it’s not completely dark if I wake up in the middle of the night. As I stare into the house, an uneasy feeling washes over me, and I take a step back. It’s probably just an outage, maybe someone hit a pole or something but my stomach knots when I turn and see every other house on the block with their lights blazing. God, I’m being ridiculous.
Taking another step back onto the porch, I sigh and weigh my options. I could go into the dark and make my way to the creepy utility closet or I could text Storm. As much as I don’t want to see him right now, I want to stumble around my house in the dark even less. I lean in and grab my phone from the bag before stepping back out onto the porch.
Me:
I need your help.
I stare down at my phone and wait for his reply, growing impatient with how long it’s taking him to get back to me. Figures the one time I actually need his help, he’s not around. I gasp and whirl around when someone stomps up the steps behind me, and there he is. He rushes over to me and puts his hands on my face while his eyes roam all over my body.
“Are you okay? What’s up?”
“Jesus, Storm. You scared the hell out of me. Did you run all the way here?”
“Yeah, you said you needed me.”
I sigh and shake my head. This man is so goddamn confusing. “It wasn’t like an emergency. I just need help with my lights.”
“Your lights?” he asks, and I point to the dark house behind us.
“I came home and the lights won’t turn on. The fuse box is in the closet in the hall but I hate the dark.”
He pulls his gaze away from the open doorway to look down at me, and he grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Damn him for being so hot when he smiles. “You afraid of the dark, Baby?”
“Stop calling me that,” I snap. I love hearing him say it but I hate that it only confuses me more, and I don’t want to hear it unless he really means it.
“What? Baby?”
“Yes.”
His brow furrows, and he studies me for a moment. “Why?”
“Because that is reserved for boyfriends,” I say, looking him right in the eye and squaring my shoulders.
“And I’m not your boyfriend?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, Storm. Are you?”
His stare is intense, kicking up butterflies in my belly and pouring warm honey over me all at the same time. My body aches to lean in to him, steal a touch, but I stay rooted in my spot, demanding answers. Finally, he sighs and looks back to the house.
“Fuse box is in the hallway, you said?” he asks, and my heart sinks to my feet. I nod, and he pulls his phone out, bringing up a flashlight app as he disappears into the house. Tears sting my eyes. I step into the foyer, and try to get myself under control. I’m such a stupid girl.
How much of the past week has even been real? Have I been imagining this thing between us? That spark I felt when I met him, was it completely one-sided? The light over my head flicks on, and I quickly wipe away any tears that may have escaped while he stomps back over to me. He steps around the corner, and I force a smile to my face.
“Thank you so much, and I’m sorry for bothering you.”
He stops in front of me, close enough that I could just reach out and grab him but my hands stay firm at my sides. My eyes burn with unshed tears, and I need him to leave.
“It’s not a bother, Sweetheart,” he says softly, and I turn away from him, surprised by the ache in my chest.
“Alison, look at me.” His voice is firm but I don’t want him to see how upset I am right now. I keep my gaze on the hardwood floor and hope that he’ll give up soon and just leave. I should know better though. He nudges under my chin with his fingers, and when I still don’t obey his command, he presses his hand to my face and guides my eyes back to his. I glare up at him, and he drops his hand.
“Fuck this,” he growls, grabbing my face again and pulling me into his body. I gasp just as he slams his mouth on mine and he uses it to his advantage, his tongue slipping past my lips and teasing me. I whimper and melt into him, gripping his shirt in my hands as I try to hold on to something – my sanity, this moment, him – I’m not sure.
Reality crashes down on me, and I rip my lips away, pushing against his massive chest. “Stop.”
“No,” he rasps, coming back toward me, “I don’t want to stop. Ever.”
I push on his chest again but he’s not deterred, leaning in to kiss my neck instead. “Look, Storm. I’m not really into being strung along while you figure out your commitment issues.”
He pulls back and levels a glare at me. It’s full of fire but there is no anger. Only the same intense need that I feel blazing a path through my body right now. “I don’t have fucking commitment issues. I’m yours, and you are mine. End of fucking story.”
“Oh, yeah?” I whisper, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of my lips but a sliver of doubt remains.
He leans in, his breath wafting over my face as he keeps his eyes locked with mine. “Mine.”
I nod and slide my hand up his cheek, his beard tickling my skin. “Yours.”
A thrill runs through me as I give in to him. I haven’t been someone’s girl in a long time, and a mix of excitement and fear pulses through my bloodstream at the thought of being his. I like it – the way it sounds and the way it feels. He turns into my touch and nips at my palm before kissing over the same spot but I’m too turned on to smile at the gesture.
His fingers curl around my wrist, and he moves my hand down his body, going slowly so my fingers can trail over his large chest and the defined ridges on his stomach. I suck in a breath when he keeps going, guiding my hand down further until I’m rubbing his cock over his jeans. He lets out a quiet groan, and his eyes close as his head drops back. My other hand slips up under his shirt, and I take my time exploring him. He’s ridiculously fit, and I wonder what he does to keep his body looking and feeling like this.
He groans again, and his head falls forward to look at me as he pushes my hands away from his body and pushes me up against the wall while kicking the front door closed. Jeez, I hadn’t even realized that it was still open. That’s what he does to me. Claiming my lips again, he shoves one hand into my hair while the other grips my hip, pulling me into him like he can’t get me close enough. I throw my hands over his shoulders and grind against him, earning me another groan.