Page 17 of Their Stormy Reunion

“What is this place?” I asked.

“A friend loaned it to me for the weekend.”

I stared up at him, then rested my head against his chest so I could listen to his heartbeat. Every time I was wrapped in his arms, I felt loved. Even more than that, I felt safe. He was my anchor in the storm that was my life.

“Do you want to look around?” He whispered the question.

“Is there a bedroom that you want to show me?”

He squeezed me tighter. “God, yes.”

Michael kept one arm around my shoulder as he picked up my suitcase and led me through a cozy living room and down the hall to a dream bedroom. Dappled sunlight filtered from a skylight and four windows. The soft slivers of sun added depth to the handmade quilt that covered the bed. Two of the windows were open and brought in the fresh scent of pine.

“Do you like?” he asked.

I spun around and clasped my arms around his neck. “I love.”

His lips crashed down on mine, and fire scorched through my veins. His tongue thrust into my mouth and I moaned as I tasted him. So good. So damn good.

One hand scraped through my hair, pulling out my scrunchie, then his fingers tangled in my hair. I couldn’t tell if he meant to pull my hair or not. All I knew is that it felt good. My neck arched, then he started trailing kisses down my throat. I shivered.

I don’t know how, but suddenly we were lying across the bed, his weight resting on me. I gloried in the feel of Michael on top of me, pressing me deep into the mattress. I was bombarded with sensation after sensation. I lifted one hand from his neck, trying to figure out where to touch him, but he pulled both of my wrists upward, then caught them in one hand over my head.

“But,” I tried to argue.

“Trust me,” he whispered.

I was lost. I hardly recognized Michael. Who was this guy? This man? In two months, he seemed to have changed in ways I couldn’t have possibly imagined. Assertive, and sexy. My eyes fluttered closed.

“Always. I’ll always trust you.”

“And I’ll do my best to live up to your trust. I love you, Sunshine.”

Michael’s hand stroked down the side of my body, then inward, and he began to unbutton the wide, yellow buttons on my sun dress.

“I love your dresses. They fit you, Fallon. They’re happy, like you are.”

“You make me happy,” I gasped. It was true. For years, I hadn’t known what happiness was, then one day I looked up during high school English and saw him. It was like I put on prescription sunglasses. Everything came into focus and the color became bright and vibrant.

Michael’s hand cupped my breast over my frothy pink lace bra. His thumb grazed over my nipple and I pushed up, trying to coax him to apply more pressure. He didn’t… the tease.

Michael chuckled.

He knew what he was doing.

He pulled back the cup of my bra, then he lightly stroked his stubbled cheek against my furled nub, and I shrieked. The feeling sent me into overload.

“Like that?”

“I, I-I’m not sure.”

“Then let’s try it again.” He smiled. This time his cheek brushed harder against my nipple. I drew in a deep breath to let loose again, then his mouth covered mine as he pinched the same peak he’d just teased. I would have lunged off the bed, if he hadn’t been on top of me. The pleasurable torture was beyond anything I could imagine.

I would have pulled him closer, but he still had my hands locked above me.

After long minutes, Michael pulled back and looked down at me. His pupils so large, his eyes were almost black, instead of their normal gray.

“The way you respond blows my mind. You were made for me.”