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Storm rubbed his pounding temples. He had successfully avoided Peyton since their talk in the barn—the one where he pushed her to find a more suitable man for herself. During the end of that conversation, she'd kind of let him off the hook. He wondered why? Was she really okay with finding someone else? The thought stung, especially if that someone else was Spencer and he'd pushed her in that direction.
Assuming bingo night at the country club wasn't as formal as the Friday night dinner scene, Storm slipped into his best pair of jeans, button-down plaid shirt, and cowboy boots. He wanted nothing more than out of this night. It was bad enough he had to spend it watching Peyton flounce around with Spencer, but he had to do it with Brittiany on his arm. At least Brittiany somewhat knew the truth. She and he were not going to happen, and she knew that her friend liked him. What Brittiany didn't know was what had gone on between him and Peyton and that this date was more of a way to keep an eye on Spencer and find out more about this mystery man.
Earlier in the day, he begged Coach to take his place tonight with Brittiany, but his friend wouldn't even entertain the thought. Why not? Coach was unattached, why couldn't he help him out? It wasn't like Coach to not come to the aid of a friend. It was like he wanted Storm to have to watch his sister with another man.
Playing sick also crossed Storm's mind, but he decided against that cowardly idea.
Storm drew in a deep breath, let it out, and then exited his room. He waited with Coach at the foot of the stairs for Peyton.
"Come on; you're going to be late. Get your butt down here," Coach yelled with a teasing tone. "Women."
Peyton appeared at the top of the steps. Storm's heart slammed into his chest. Her fitted, black dress showed every luscious curve she owned. The fabric crisscrossed between her lovely, plump breasts, making them look even larger than they were. The length of her dress fell several inches above her knees, showing off her shapely legs.
She descended the stairs slowly in her strappy, spike-heel sandals. Her hot pink toenails contrasted with her milky-white feet. Storm's mouth went dry. He lifted his gaze to find her knowing eyes on him. She'd pulled her hair up into a sexy, messy bun, leaving a few wavy locks loose over her neck and shoulders. Those striking toned shoulders. The woman was sexy as sin, and she'd soon be in the company of another man.
Reaching toward him, she handed him a gold chain with a diamond pendant. "I couldn't seem to get this on. Can you do it, please?"
She turned her back toward him. So, this was how it was going to be—both barrels blazing. It was working.
He lifted the chain over her head and then moved to fasten it around her, brushing aside the silky-soft strands of dark hair lying over her long, milky-white neck. His lips begged to touch the side of her neck, nibble up to her earlobe, work their way around to the front of her and take her lips, long and slow.
Coach cleared his throat. "You two better get moving. I'll be following right behind you. Watching and listening."
Silently, Storm thanked his friend for saving him from his temptation. Additionally, knowing his buddy would be listening to everything he and Peyton would talk about would keep him in check—keep him from begging Peyton to forget everything he'd told her in the barn about finding a better man for herself. He had to stop thinking about this. She would be better off with someone else. A complete person.
With the exception of his thudding heart, the ride to the country club was quiet. Though his eyes were supposed to be on the road, they kept gravitating to the beautiful creature in the passenger seat. The short dress she wore had climbed up on her leg. Remembrance of her soft skin and the warmth of what lie between her thighs had his pulse pounding.
Lifting his gaze, it floated to her slim waist and then to the swell of her breasts. Her firm, round breasts that fit perfectly in his hands. His mouth watered. His fingers itched to reach out and touch her. This was going to be a tough night. But he had to be strong for her sake. She deserved better.
By the time he pulled into the parking lot, nearly half the stalls were taken.
"This many people for bingo night?"
Peyton nodded. "You know how it is. Small town, nothing else to do."
Storm exited the truck and hurried to the passenger door to open it for Peyton. She swung those sexy legs out of the truck and reached for him as she slid out. He quickly steadied her on those spike heels, then released her just as fast, sure if he held onto her any longer he wouldn't be able to let go.
They stepped into the lounge to find Lauren, Warner, and Spencer already seated at one of the banquet tables set up on the dance floor. There were a total of twelve tables with six to eight people at a table. Storm hadn't even sat yet when Brittiany sashayed through the doorway wearing a short red dress and tall red boots. She looked like a high-priced hooker. Her smile stretched from ear to ear.
She stepped up to him and kissed him on the cheek, then leaned toward his ear. "We'll get her attention tonight."
That was all he needed—Brittiany overdoing it to make Peyton jealous. He wished he could tell the woman the truth that this was all about protecting Peyton, not making her jealous. But secrecy was key until he figured out who was behind the threats. In any case, he counted on Brittiany's playful nature to keep her from getting angry when the truth came tumbling down.
Storm laid out his four bingo cards. At least bingo was a no-brainer, allowing him to focus more on Spencer while appearing to play the game. Brittiany sat to the left of him and laid out eight cards. Extreme and all-in as usual. Winning, evidently important to her. Everyone else at the table had four to six cards.
Spencer sat across from him, Peyton to his right. Great, this would allow him perfect access to chat with him–get to know him better.
Brittiany leaned against his shoulder, reached over, and marked a number on one of his cards. "For heaven's sake, are you even listening to the numbers being called?"
Truth be told, he hadn't been. Learning more about the person sitting across the table from him was more important at present.
He smiled at Brittiany. "Thanks."
She batted her big, brown eyes. "You're welcome."
Peyton shot him a look, then leaned closer to Spencer.
Storm wanted to kick himself for going along with this idea, suggesting she stay close to this crook, Spencer, so they could keep a close eye on him.
Spencer leaned back in his chair and then slung his arm around Peyton's shoulders, pulling her closer to him.
Storm wanted to rip the man's arm off and beat him with it.
It was time to get on with it. "So, Spencer, where did you grow up?" Storm asked.
Spencer's eyes narrowed, letting Storm know he'd better lose the sharp tone before continuing with his questioning.
Storm risked a glance at Peyton. The frown she wore reaffirmed what Spencer's look had told him. The critical tone had better go.
"I was born in New York, but then we moved to Chicago."
"Oh, I thought you were originally from Chicago?'
"We didn't move there until after I was out of high school."
"‘We’?"
"My parents and I."
"Bingo!" Brittiany yelled.
Of course, Brittiany would get bingo. She seemed like the lucky type. But why was she pointing at him?
"Storm has bingo!" Brittiany clarified.
He glanced at his cards to find no straight lines on any of them. "Where?"
Brittiany pointed at a card that had only four numbers covered, and they were in the upper left corner of the card. "This was a postage stamp game. You must pay attention."
"Postage stamp?"
"Yep."
Whatever happened to normal bingo?
The cocktail waitress grabbed his card and called the numbers back to the guy in charge. He nodded. She set a bottle of bourbon in front of him. "Here's your prize."
He cleared his cards for the next game. Another one he didn't understand, but it didn't matter. Brittiany would watch his cards, and he could learn more about Spencer.
"So, do you have any brothers or sisters?" Storm continued with the inquisition.
"Nope, just me."
"I'm an only child, too," Warner piped in. "I have to admit though, I always wanted a brother or sister to harass when I was younger." He smiled. "Just kidding, it was kind of lonely."
"Yeah, I know what you mean, but hey, I got spoiled," Spencer commented.
"So, Chicago, huh? Is the development business better there than out east?” Warner asked.
Perfect, Warner picked up where Storm left off. Now it wouldn't appear to be so much of an inquisition, but rather a friendly get-to-know-you conversation.
"You could say that. We saw some opportunities in Chicago and jumped on them."
"Where did you go to college?" Warner asked.
"I have an Engineering degree from the University of Illinois."
Storm already knew that from research.
"That makes sense for your line of work. So, you wound up in Louisville because you're doing a project there," Storm commented, wanting back in the game.
Spencer nodded. "We have one going there and one in Lexington. It's easier to manage if I simply stay near the sites during construction."
"So, there's really a demand for these high-end, vanity apartments?" Storm asked.
"Lucky for me, yes. Right now, these apartments are a slam dunk.”
Peyton sighed audibly. The slight shake of her head and roll of her eyes portrayed annoyance. Hmm. What was that about? Was the inquisition he and Warner were putting her date through annoying her? She knew that was the plan. Or, was it something Spencer said? She caught Storm’s gaze but quickly looked away from him.
Spencer continued. “The thirty-four-unit complex under construction in Lexington has already received more applications than availability, and the one in Louisville is gaining interest. The professional millennials are driving this. They don't appear to want single family homes like the baby boomers or gen Xers. They're not interested in mowing lawns or wasting their time on upkeep. They want apartments with commercial spaces such as coffee shops and common areas including exercise facilities, and they're willing to pay a premium for it.”
When the guy spoke, he sounded legit and seemed to know what he was talking about.
"I guess we're still old-school here. We want the privacy of our own home on a large plat for my horses. Don’t we, sweetie?" Warner asked as he reached across the table and laid his hand over Lauren's.
Lauren smiled warmly and nodded.
Storm looked at Spencer. "Peyton's ex-husband, Tyler St. John, is a developer too. He and his dad own Bluegrass Partners. Have you ever heard of them?"
The mention of her ex-husband’s name put a scowl on Peyton's face, and she glared at Storm. Why was she so angry? He was only doing what they'd set out to do. Find out more about Spencer. This was all part of the plan.
"Yeah, but I don't know much about them. They do condos, I think. Not much of a market for those yet since the economy tanked years ago," Spencer replied.
Storm was surprised Spencer admitted knowing about Tyler. But then, that was probably wise on his part since they were both developers, and it would be easy to explain a connection in the future if need be.
* * * *
It was about 9:30 when bingo ended and Brittiany made mention of a nightcap. Peyton didn't care to have another drink; it was a work night and she was tired. She also didn’t care to watch her friend continue to lean against Storm and whisper into his ear. She'd been doing that all night and it had been driving Peyton nuts. Storm, letting it happen, didn't help either and all it did was force her to cling to Spencer. Peyton sighed. So much for my plan to make Storm jealous. Another failure to add to my list.
Storm's nod at Brittiany wasn't a surprise. Spencer was talking about his life, and that's what Storm and Coach wanted, hoping he'd reveal some piece of information that put him behind the poisoning of Diamond and the snatching of Lightning Strike. As they say, alcohol was a truth serum, but if Spencer was who they thought he was, the man would be too careful to slip.
Spencer stood and reached out to Peyton. With reluctance, she placed her hand in his and he wove his fingers with hers before leading her to the bar. Nothing, no butterflies, no adrenaline rush, nothing came with the touch of his hand other than the want and need for his hand to be replaced by Storm's. But Storm's hand was occupied with Brittiany's. The surge of jealousy at the thought of a goodnight kiss between Storm and Brittiany sent Peyton's mind reeling. Surely Brittiany would be expecting one. Why wouldn't she? Would Storm oblige? Worse yet, what was she going to do if Spencer felt the need for one? The man was good-looking, so it shouldn't be a hardship, yet Peyton knew it would be. Her lips belonged on Storm's and nobody else's.
Peyton sipped her drink hoping to make it last, well, forever. The longer she milked it out, the longer she could put off the end of the evening, put off the inevitable goodnight kisses. Yeah, that's a great plan. Though it would probably work better than the plan I had in place to make Storm jealous.
Perhaps it would be better to slam the drink and one more for good measure just to get through the unescapable. Sure, that's a better idea—ruin Storm's chance to get more information from Spencer. She rolled her eyes at herself.
Storm set his empty beer bottle on the bar and looked at his watch. "It's ten o'clock; we should probably get going. I have to get up early tomorrow." He looked at Spencer. "I take it you're driving back to Louisville yet tonight?"
"Actually I'm staying in Chandlerville tonight, at the B&B on Main Street since I'm headed to Lexington in the morning anyhow."
That made sense; it beat driving all that way back to Louisville after a couple of cocktails. She bet this was why Coach had driven his own truck so he could follow Spencer just to make sure he told the truth.
"Probably a good idea," Storm said with a nod.
In the lobby, Peyton bid goodnight to Lauren and Warner along with the rest of the group; then her gaze found its way to Storm. How was he going to say goodnight to Brittiany? Surely her friend would expect more than the kiss on the cheek she got from Storm the last time they'd all been out.
Storm leaned toward her friend, whispered into her ear, and kissed her on the cheek. Brittiany's soft laugh drowned out whatever it was Spencer said. Peyton hoped Spencer's comments didn't require a response because her lack of one would make her look like a distracted idiot.
"So then, we're on for Friday night?" Spencer asked.
"Hmm?"
"Friday night in Louisville. The prerace extravaganza I mentioned."
"I can't; my dad is hosting an event that my entire family attends, as well as many of his business acquaintances. He does it every year. My brothers, Blaine and Garrett, are flying in on Friday. It's like a little family reunion."
"Oh, nice. Where is that at?"
"Are you ready?" Storm interrupted with a silencing stare.
Evidently, she’d given too much information. She wasn't used to this kind of life—having to worry about what she said.
"At his hotel," she answered generically, though Spencer could probably find out with little effort on his part if he really wanted to know.
Spencer's gaze landed on Storm, and the two entered some sort of silent battle. Testosterone hung thick in the air.
"I guess your ride is ready," Spencer said as he unhitched his gaze from Storm's and looked at her. "Maybe we can hook up at the derby."
"Sounds good."
He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, lingering for just a moment.
"I'll call you."
She nodded, and he spun and left.
Storm's jaw was still knotted when she finally allowed herself to look at him. A thick vein bulged on his right temple. Was it completely selfish to like the fact he was affected by her and Spencer's kiss? The kiss that nauseated her. But it had done what she wanted it to do. The jealous look on Storm's face was unmistakable.
The ride home began as silent as the ride to the club. Loathing the silence, Peyton's mind reeled for words. She hated this game she had to play with Spencer. Hopefully, it would be over soon. More importantly, she hated this situation with Storm. She knew he wanted her but he held back. She racked her brain trying to come up with a way to get him—them—beyond this unpleasant place, they seemed to be stuck in.
Storm's cell phone vibrated on the center console. Coach's face flashed on the screen. Storm snatched it up. "Uh huh...okay...later then."
He set the phone down. "Coach is following Spencer, just to see if he's really going to the B&B."
"I figured he would."
More silence.
Storm parked, slid out of the truck, and hurried to her side of the vehicle to open her door. He followed her into the house. Once in the entryway, she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. She wanted to talk to him, find a way to convince him that he was right for her exactly the way he was, kiss some sense into him.
Storm started up the steps. So, this was it. He was just going to leave things be the way they were at present—ignore his feelings for her. The jealous look in his eyes when she kissed Spencer spoke volumes but he was choosing to chuck those feelings aside.
"Storm."
He froze in place but didn't turn to face her.
"Look at me."
His broad shoulders tensed, and he turned slowly.
"Goodnight, Peyton."
Her heart plummeted. This was not happening. She refused to let this happen. She raced up the steps and slipped between him and his bedroom doorway. "Dammit, Storm, you know I didn't want to kiss him."
He just looked at her.
She reached up and placed her hand on his flaming cheek.
His gaze softened. "I know, and I'm sorry you're in a position where you think you had to."
He reached up, gripped her hand, and pulled it away. Her heart stilled at the thought he was going to simply let go and move past her. But instead, he placed her palm to his lips and kissed it softly as if she were a fragile, porcelain doll.
His lips found her mouth. Ever so lightly, he brushed them over hers as his hands softly cupped her cheeks. The sweet sensations drifting through her warmed every cell of her being. He lingered, making slow, magic love to her mouth. Their tongues caressed, soothed one another's. Heat rose in her body, and she slowly melted to him. His tongue dove deeper. Though she wanted him in bed, she fought not to rush him, knowing that with his reservations he needed to come around on his own slow terms or she might frighten him off.
It was working.
The front door opened then shut. Storm pulled his lips from hers. Damn Coach's bad timing. Storm looked down the hall and then past her into his room. Peyton put on her best bedroom eyes, hoping to capture Storm at this weak moment. His step forward had her stepping back into his room. He pushed the door shut, then found her lips again.
His large, warm hands slipped around her waist, and he pulled her to him. His erection pressed against her belly. She wanted it pressing somewhere else but was determined to let him set the pace.
When he pulled his tongue from her mouth, it took a great deal of strength not to grab hold of it and suck it back in. His lips moved across her jawline, to the sensitive skin below her ear. The sensations ripping through her when he nibbled on her earlobe weakened her knees. One of his arms tightened around her waist while the other slid fluidly over her back. He gripped the zipper, allowing his fingers to skim a blazing path along her skin as he slid it down.
Storm stepped back and peeled her dress from her. It pooled at her feet. His gaze raked over her. "You're so beautiful."
Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest.
His gaze lowered to her breasts and he licked his lips. She wanted that tongue on her, on her breasts, flicking over her nipples. They tightened at the thought.
Reaching forward, Storm touched his fingertip lightly to the lace rim of her bra; then he traced it across both her breasts. Moisture pooled in her panties. With his thumb and forefinger, he undid the clasp between her breasts and they sprung free of the garment. In an instant, his hands cupped them, then kneaded. Electricity sparked through her veins. He backed her up until her calves touched the bed. He released her breasts and yanked his shirt over his head, as she worked the button and zipper to his jeans.
In the next breath, they were lying in his bed. Exactly where she wanted to be. His slow hands moved over her, lighting up every cell in her body. With one hand, he kneaded a breast as his mouth tortured—teased—the other. When his tongue circled and flicked over her nipple, she moaned in pleasure.
He pulled his hot mouth from her breast, and his other hand stilled. His dark gaze met hers. "You're so receptive."
Yeah, she was, because he was that damn good. Not that she'd been with many men, only three before Storm. Two college boyfriends, her ex-husband, and now Storm—her soul mate. None of the three caused her to react, need, or desire on this level. The passion flowing through her veins was thrilling, invigorating, unmeasurable.
Storm moved his hand lower and splayed it over her stomach only briefly before lowering it even farther. He cupped her wet mound then dipped a finger into her. She arched when the second finger entered. Her breath held when he pressed his thumb against her already sensitive bundle of nerves. She let it out as he circled the nub. Her body heated, blood nearly boiling in her veins. Her breaths came quicker. His unwavering gaze darkening as he held hers. She'd never looked a man in the eyes this way while being pleasured. It was intense, breathtaking, almost unbearable, yet she couldn't look away if she tried.
Raw need spurted through her. "Storm, I need you in me."
He reached over her and pulled a condom from the nightstand and sheathed himself, then he positioned his large frame over her. The depth of his gaze intensified as he slid himself into her. Long, slow strokes filled her. Her hands explored his hard muscles and soft skin. How could he be so hard and soft at the same time? Each deep stroke brought her closer to paradise. The sensations ripping through her heightened. Loving the feel of them, she tried to hold back, wanting to prolong them for as long as possible even with the knowledge that the peak would be sensational. She was selfish that way. She wanted it all.
His long strokes were coming quicker. Her hips met his every thrust. Her mind spun out of control. Her vision blurred. Intense, pleasurable vibrations ripped through her, leaving her breathless. Storm drove into her again, his body tensed. He groaned with his release and collapsed onto her molten body.
Still shocked by the potency of her orgasm, she lay still, trying to catch her breath.
Storm's rapid breathing caressed her ear. The beat of his heart thudded pleasantly against her chest. She wondered if he could feel hers, too.
He rolled off her, pulling her along with him and she tucked herself in the curve of his arm. Though unspoken, his love surrounded her, comforted her, had her for life.