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What if a tree fell and took her out? Or a strong gust of wind knocked her off her feet, carried her off into the night. No, that was ridiculous. This wasn’t the Wizard of Oz, and she was definitely no Dorothy. She peered out to the space between the two houses and took a deep, calming breath before making a run for it.
Her feet slapped rain-soaked ground as splashes of water drenched her legs and seeped through the sneakers she’d slipped into. Her hair blew about, thrashing her face and sticking to her skin. She swiped it aside and narrowed her eyes to see through the thick rain.
She was almost there, just had to go a bit farther. The trees swayed, and a gust of wind knocked into her, making it hard to breathe.
Maybe this was a bad idea after all.
***
Wind battered the siding, tree branches scratched against the roof, and the house creaked against the strong gusts. The house had been through several hurricanes, and it would make it through another, Nolan had no doubt.
Everything that wasn’t cemented to the ground had been stored away in the shed and garage. He made sure to do a final check this morning before the storm approached. As long as the house stood its ground, he’d have nothing to worry about.
A rapid succession of bangs on the door grabbed his attention, and he hurried to see who could possibly be out and about during the storm. Through the glass pane, Isla’s blonde hair whipped around her face. He flung the door open, and the wind gave it an extra jolt, slamming it into the wall.
“Geez!” He grabbed the doorknob, holding it tighter, and motioned for Isla to come in.
She ducked inside and stood in the foyer, running hands up and down her arms. Her blonde hair lay in tangled strands and stuck to her face. Water dripped down her cheeks and onto his wood floors. Her clothes were soaked through, and her blue eyes were filled with a mix of fear and apprehension.
“Why were you out there?” His voice cut a littler harsher than he meant, but the winds had picked up, she could easily be taken out by flying debris or worse a falling tree.
Her blue eyes met his, and his heart ached at the trepidation marring the pretty color. “I thought I could ride this out on my own, but… I’m scared. I would have driven to my parents, or Harper’s Mom’s, or Shane’s place, but the way the trees are swaying I didn’t think that was a good idea. I didn’t know what else to do, and if you don’t want me here, I understand. I can leave.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He snaked his arm around her and pulled her tight. “You’re always welcome here.” He kissed the top of her head in an attempt to take away her unease. He hated that she was in that big house, scared and alone. He hated even more that coming to him was her last resort. “You’re soaked,” he said. “Come on, I’ll get you a towel.”
“You have clean ones?”
He laughed, remembering her towel debacle. “Of course.”
She followed him to the bathroom, and he turned around, not expecting her to be so close. In the small space of the bathroom, he could smell her floral scent surrounding him. He cleared his throat and handed her a towel. “Here.”
She took it and ran it down her arms, but her shirt was still soaked, clinging to her skin. “Let me get you a t-shirt so you can get out of that wet one. I’ll throw that it in the dryer.”
“Thank you. That’d be great.”
Their bodies brushed against each other as he slid by her in the doorway. He froze and her eyes drifted up, locking on his. Memories of her lips on his filled his mind, and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to pick her up against the doorframe and finish what they’d started that night.
He clung to the sliver of strength he had. “Excuse me.”
She smiled, but it was forced, barely curving her lips at the corners. “Right.” Her eyes casted down as he stepped by her.
He heard her intake of breath, and something inside him snapped. He spun around, snaking his arm around her waist and hauling her to him. Their lips came together in a heated crash. Long hot strokes of her tongue against his spurred the desire inside him. His hands gripped her waist, holding her tight.
Her moans reverberated on his lips, and he picked her up. Her legs wrapped around him as he walked them to the couch. The pizza guy interrupted them the last time, but with a storm wreaking havoc outside the door, there was no cause for interruption.
He’d resisted his desires long enough and didn’t give a shit about what happened in the past. All he cared about right now was how soft Isla’s skin was against his fingertips, how her kisses were like a mix of sweet and spice, and how each stroke of her tongue and caress of her hand felt like a new stitch, helping to close the hole in his heart.
Life without Isla had been passionless and boring. He fed on her passion, relishing in every heated touch, fueling his relentless appetite for her. He dragged his mouth from hers, kissing a path down her neck and sucking on the soft skin.
She cried out, body arching into his and pressing herself against his erection. She’d always been so reactive to his touch, and he took advantage. He nipped at the sensitive spot on her neck and cupped her breast, running his thumb across the wet cotton of her shirt. Her nipple pebbled immediately, and he hooked his finger at the hem of her shirt, needing to see the rosy bud.
His phone rang, and he ignored it. He didn’t care if the world was coming to an end, it could wait. Everything could wait. His need was an impatient bastard who had a one-track mind. Isla.
His phone rang again, and Isla’s lips stopped moving on his. “You should probably get that.”
He groaned and slipped his phone out of his pocket. He looked at it to see Milo’s name flash on the screen. “Hey Milo, what’s up?”
The sound of wind muffled the line. “The bay is at the foot of my driveway, and it’s still an hour till high tide. I got to get out of here. The streets are underwater, so I’m going to take the raft to Grove Street right before Main. It usually doesn’t flood that far up. Can you meet me there?”
