Page 20

Taming the Storm Page 20

by Samantha Towle


“Fair enough.” I shrug and turning, I bend down to retrieve my clothes. I make sure to stick my ass up and in his direction, and I let my boobs hang right in his view, just to annoy him further.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Still bent over, I look up at him. “Getting dressed. Then, I’m leaving this elevator.”

T-shirt in hand, I straighten up.

One, two—

He growls, and then he grabs my arm, yanking me to him. My back slams into his hard chest, his large hand comes around me, spanning my stomach. He pulls me hard against his erection, which is now sticking in my back.

“Fine, Lyla.” His voice is harsh and throaty. “Get down on your knees, and suck my big fucking cock with that hot fucking mouth of yours…please.”

I bite back a smile. Tilting my head back against his chest, I look up into his eyes. “Could do with a little work…but better.” I turn in his arms and shove him against the wall of the elevator.

I can feel his heart pounding beneath my palms. His breathing is ragged.

Keeping my hands pressed against his chest, I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss his lips softly. “I’m sorry I left this morning,” I whisper, keeping my eyes on his.

Tom brings his hands to my head. Sliding his fingers through my hair, he cradles my head, his eyes softening. “Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” I say, giving a gentle nod of my head.

Then, he kisses me fiercely.

After he’s finished kissing the life out of me—teaching me that Tom Carter doesn’t like to be walked out on—I remove his T-shirt and kiss my way along his jaw, to his neck, and then down his chest, peppering kisses downwards until I’m on my knees and level with his cock.

Reaching up, I undo the button on his jeans and pull down the zipper. I shimmy his jeans down over his hips, finding him commando again.

Doesn’t he own a pair of boxer shorts?

I find myself face-to-face with not only his beautiful big cock, but also a tattoo right at the cut of his hips just above his neatly trimmed hair. Somehow, I didn’t see it in the dark during last night’s escapades.

And really, only Tom would have a tattoo that says…

RUB THE LAMP

Snorting out a laugh, I stare up at him, my eyes incredulous. “You had Rub the Lamp tattooed above your cock.”

Shrugging, he eyes me with cocky insouciance. “He’s magic. A few good rubs, and he’ll make a woman’s wishes come true.”

I bark out a laugh. “My God, you are beyond ego.”

Holding my chin, he tilts my head back, so I’m looking at him. His eyes are blazing with something I don’t understand.

“Right now, I am your god. And as for my ego…well, you got four tastes of that last night, and you weren’t complaining then.”

He’s got me there. There’s no arguing with that.

Giving him a suggestive look, I run the tip of my index finger up the length of his steely cock. “So, if I rub your lamp, does that mean I get three wishes?”

“Firecracker, you put those gorgeous lips of yours around my lamp, and you can have as many wishes as you want.”

I smile seductively. “Just the three will do,” I murmur before licking the head of his cock. Opening up, I suck him into my mouth.

“Jesus, Lyla.” His voice is hoarse. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

Relaxing my throat muscles, I take more of him into my mouth, and I’m rewarded with a jet of pre-cum hitting the back of my tongue. He tastes like pure man. He’s virile in every way.

I hum with pleasure, letting the sound vibrate through him, before I start to move my mouth.

And when I do, he lets out a sound of absolute male satisfaction.

Hand palming the back of my head, he starts fucking my mouth, uttering, “Yeah. That’s it, baby. Suck me hard. Jack me off with your mouth.”

So, I do as he asks.

After I’m finished giving Tom his blow-job apology—my mind still echoing with his ragged, heated praise of how good I am, how amazing my mouth feels sucking him, how beautiful I am—he gets down on his knees and gives me a lot more than the three wishes I earned in that camera-free elevator.

One Week Later—A Festival, Lexington

Another week has passed, and throughout the week, true to his word, Tom has carved out time to take me to stores, so I could buy new T-shirts. Shopping with him has been surprisingly fun. And I’m starting to build quite the tour T-shirt collection.

Also, a day hasn’t gone by when Tom and I haven’t had sex. And it’s not just once. Two, three…four times.

Tom just goes and goes. I’m surprised I can still walk.

Around everyone else, including on the bus with the guys, Tom and I act normal, as if nothing is different. But when no one’s around, we spend our alone time together, naked.

On the night after our elevator escapade, once the guys were sleep, Tom spent the night in my bed on the bus, teaching me how to have sex silently. Not easy when you’re as vocal as I am. But I sure had fun learning.

Every time I have sex with Tom, it feels like the first time. I’m not sure what it is about him, but he brings out a side of me that I didn’t know existed.

Daring and willing.

I will pretty much do anything he asks, no matter the time or place.

He’s fucked me in more positions than I knew possible and some I didn’t and in places I didn’t think I’d ever have sex. He really wasn’t kidding when he said he could be inventive.

We’ve had sex in a coat closet at a club, the fitting room in a store, a restroom in a restaurant, and another one in a club we played. He had me up against a tree behind the back of a rest stop. But the strangest place was…in the luggage compartment of the tour bus.

Seriously, don’t ask. I have no clue how that even happened.

That man could talk my panties off while sitting at dinner with my family.

I can’t say no to him, and I don’t want to.

I like the way he makes me feel, and it scares me exactly how much I like it. But what scares me the most is when Tom comes to my bed late at night when the bus is sleeping, and we have slow, deep…and what feels to be meaningful sex.

If I didn’t know better—at those times in the dark of the night, our bodies tangled up together—I could almost believe we’re making love.

But I can’t think that way because to do so will only get me hurt.

Tonight, we’re in Lexington, Kentucky, and we’re playing at an outdoor festival. The festival has been going since we arrived mid-afternoon, and we’re scheduled to play at seven for a thirty-minute set.

It looks to be our biggest crowd yet, and I’m excited to get up onstage.

Tom has been in a weird mood since we arrived, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. He’s not being himself, and he’s been cold and distant with me.

All afternoon, I’ve wanted to ask him what is wrong, but I haven’t been able to get a moment alone with him.

I have no clue where he is now. I haven’t seen him since we were in the dressing room, which is actually a trailer that we’re sharing with Star Point Five, a vocal band made up of five girls. Each girl is gorgeous in her own right. I think Cale, Van, and Sonny thought they’d died and gone to heaven when they saw who we would be sharing a dressing room with.

And one of the Star Point Five members is a standout. Aurora Simmons is tall and blonde with average-sized—meow—boobs. She’s a standout because she’s Tom’s type…and I know he has slept with her in the past.

No, he didn’t tell me.

I saw how she looked at him when he stepped into the trailer behind me. She looked him up and down, and her expression held a familiarity that said she knew what he looks like naked. She knows what it’s like to…be with him. What confirmed it was how she shrieked and practically knocked me out of the way to get to him. Then, she planted a kiss on his mouth right there in front of me.

&n
bsp; It stung like a bitch, but I swallowed past it because he’s not mine to lay claim over.

We might be exclusive fuck buddies…but we’re just that—fuck buddies. I have no place to bitch-slap her and tell her to get the hell off him even though I really, really wanted to.

I knew Tom was uncomfortable with her kissing him because he not so politely extricated himself from her. He left soon after, and then a minute later, I got a text from him that said one word.

Sorry.

I didn’t reply because I didn’t know what to say. So, I put my cell away and let Shannon work her magic on making me look pretty for tonight.

Now, I’m ready, and I’m standing on the side of the stage with Cale and Van, watching Emerson, a very cool heavy rock band. Sonny is off somewhere. I’m guessing he’s with some chick.

We’re not due onstage for another hour, and I’m starting to think these five-inch heeled boots Shannon talked me into wearing might not be the best idea as my feet are starting to hurt already. Looking down at them, I see that a buckle on the front of a boot has come undone. I bend down to fasten it, and then I hear a mighty rip!

Fuck.

I instantly slap my hand over my ass, and I feel the massive tear right up the back seam of my denim shorts, which Shannon had to practically stitch me into earlier.

Shit! I can’t believe I ripped the ass in these shorts! Sure, they’re tight, but it’s not like my butt is the size of Texas!

Inching onto my tiptoes, I hiss, “Cale,” into his ear.

“What?” he says, not taking his eyes off the band.

“I’ve ripped the ass in these effin’ shorts I’m wearing.”

He looks at me. “You’re kidding, right?”

I can see laughter shining in his eyes.

“No, I’m not effing kidding,” I grind out.

He starts to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” I growl, giving him a shove.

“Sorry,” he says, still laughing. “You need me to go and get Shannon for you?”

“No, I’ll go back to the trailer and change. Can you give me your jacket, so I can cover up my ass?”

“Sure.” He takes his jacket off and gives it to me.

In one quick move, I have that jacket on, and I’m pulling it down, making sure it covers my butt.

“I’ll be back soon,” I say to Cale. Then, I take off, heading for the dressing room.

I’ll just take these off and put something else on from the rack of clothes that Shannon brought with her. And I’ll make sure it’s something that will definitely not rip if I bend my ass over.

A few minutes later, I breathe out a sigh of relief when I see the trailer. Picking up my pace as best as I can in these heels, I climb the few steps, open the door, and step inside the safety of the trailer.

And my heart dies in my chest.

No.

Not again.

Tom looks at me, stunned, from his position in the dressing-table chair with a panty-wearing Aurora Simmons straddling him.

Silence hits the trailer with a dull thud.

Tom pushes Aurora off of him, and he’s out of that chair and advancing on me. “Lyla, this isn’t how it looks.”

Pulling up his pants, Dex moves quickly toward me. “Ly, this isn’t how it looks.”

My lower lip trembles.

Tom stops before me. “Lyla.”

All the pain and fury I’ve kept pent-up for the last eleven months explodes out of me. My hand is moving before I realize it, and I slap Tom, hard, across the face. The sound of the slap echoes in the deafening silence.

“Fuck you!” I spit. Hand stinging like a bitch, I spin on my heel and run out of there.

“Lyla!” Tom calls after me.

Nothing is stopping me from getting away from him, not even these damn heels, and I keep running until I find myself in a portioned-off section backstage.

Seeing no people around, I stop and back up against the wall. I bend over, putting my hands on my thighs, as I try to catch my breath.

And deal with the agonizing pain in my chest.

Jesus, this hurts.

Bad.

I can’t even determine if this hurts more than the last time.

God, listen to me…the last time.

How many times does this have to happen before I learn?

Motherfucking Tom Carter. How could I have been so stupid to trust a mut like him to be faithful?

I really must be the dumbest bitch in the world.

My eyes are full of tears, but I won’t blink. I won’t cry one goddamn tear over that bastard.

I catch a sob in my throat, and a sneaky tear slides down my cheek.

“There you are!” Tom’s voice comes at me loud and hard.

I jerk up like I’ve been shot. “Don’t you come another step closer!” I put my hand out between us, a weak attempt at keeping him away. I know Tom, and nothing will stop him when he wants near me.

He moves quickly, eating up the space between us. “I’m not going anywhere until you hear what I have to say.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to hear another word out of your lying mouth!”

Then, he’s before me, and his hands are around my upper arms.

“Get the fuck off me!” I cry, trying to get his deceitful hands off me. I can’t bear him touching me. “If you wanted to have sex with someone else, you could have at least had the courtesy to let me know, so I could get the fuck out of dodge. Or was that it? You wanted to keep having sex with me and her…and who else, Tom?” I’m yelling. I’m near hysterical right now.

It’s a good thing loud music is playing. Otherwise, we’d be attracting a crowd with all our yelling.

“Jesus, Lyla!” He thrusts his hands through his hair. He stares back at me with fear in his eyes. “I don’t want to have sex with Aurora or anyone else.”

“Bullshit!”

“Seriously.” He grabs me again. “You need to listen to me. I didn’t touch her. The only time my hands were anywhere near her was when I pushed her off me. I was there, looking for you. She said that you just left to get a drink, and you were coming back. Said you wouldn’t be long and that I should wait. I wasn’t sure because I know what she’s like—”

“You’ve slept with her before?”

He lets out a sigh, releasing me, his eyes dim. “Yes.”

I ignore the pain that the confirmation forces into my chest. “When?”

His eyes meet mine. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters! More so now because…because I need to know if you’ve had sex with her while you’ve been with me. If you’ve had sex with…anyone…since…me.” My voice peters off at his sharp expression.

“There’s been no one since you and I started sleeping together. I had sex with Aurora a few years ago. It was unmemorable and not something I would ever want to repeat. Stupidly, I made the decision to wait for you with her in there.”

He ducks his head, stepping into my space. “You never replied to my text…after she kissed me in front of you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, so I went to the trailer to find you. I literally just sat down, and I was checking my cell. The next thing I knew, she was half-naked and on me. Then, you were there.” He stares deep into my eyes. “It was that quick, Ly. I didn’t get a chance to react.”

I look at him, assessing him. I actually think I believe him.

“And if you had…the chance to react?”

He moves closer, so close that I have to tilt my head back. The scent of him overwhelms me. I feel my body teeter.

“Then, I would have pushed her off, told her it wasn’t happening…because I’m with someone…you.” His hands cup my face. “I made an error in judgment, waiting there with her, but that was my only crime. I didn’t betray you. I wouldn’t. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheat.” His fingers brush my cheek tenderly. “This arrangement…this commitment I’ve made to you—to most people, I know that exclusive fuck buddies might sound like
a laughable commitment, but to me, it’s big. It matters. You matter…to me. I care about you.”

He cares about me.

I curl my fingers around his wrist, closing my eyes, as I soak up his words. “I care about you, too,” I admit softly.

Emotions overwhelming me, a lone tear runs down my cheek, and Tom catches it.

“I would never willingly do anything to hurt you, Ly.”

I lift my hand and place it against his red cheek. The cheek I hit.

I’ve never hit anyone before, not even Dex after catching him with Chad.

So, why did I react like that from seeing Tom with her?

“I’m sorry I hit you.” I give him a sad smile.

“Don’t,” he says roughly. “No sorry, no regrets.”

Then, he’s kissing me. But there’s something in this kiss, something different…something more.

Tom wraps his arms around me, holding me tight.

I melt into him.

Lips close to mine, he says, “Would it be inappropriate to say that I really need to be inside you right now?”

A smile takes over my lips. “Since when have you cared about being inappropriate?”

“Good point. Come with me.”

He leads me by the hand. We stop a little farther on by a large stage panel marked, Entry Point. Wear Hard Hats Upon Entering. Employees Only.

Tom lifts up a latch and pulls open the panel, which I now know is a door.

A door which will take us under the stage. The stage that currently has a band performing on it and a few thousand people watching out front.

“Here?” I blink up at him.

“Yep.”

“Is it…safe?”

“Are you interested in safe?” His darkened eyes stare deep into mine.

Mouth suddenly dry, I shake my head.

“Then, come with me.”

Bending his head, he steps inside.

Excited by the danger…by him, my trembling legs follow him.

The space is limited. Tom can’t stand straight. His head is dipped forward. We’re surrounded by scaffolding and the thumping of bass and drums and singing.

Tom closes the door, plunging us into total darkness.

I shiver.

Then, I feel Tom press up against me, his warmth infusing me.