We fit perfectly together, a lock and a key—and I love putting my key in her lock, goddammit. Fuck, my dick twitches, still trapped inside her, and she moans.

I’d better get up, clean up, get rid of the condom, but I can’t move, and not because she’s lying on top of me. Fuck, no. I love having her like that. Plus she weighs almost nothing. Girl needs to eat more.

I’ll feed her.

The image makes me groan again. If it was up to me, I’d never leave the bed. I’d fuck her all day and night long, only stopping long enough to eat something and catch a few winks.

Come to think of it, isn’t that what we’ve been doing since she moved here?

Grinning, I throw an arm over my eyes to block the light from the TV. Spiderman is still playing, the images flitting by, going fuzzy.

Why can’t we stay longer here? It’s not like anyone knows where she is. She’s not in danger, and neither am I. There’s food in the freezer. We could last for another couple of weeks.

The guys will be worried if I don’t report in soon, I think fuzzily, my eyes closing. Hawk will probably punch me when he sees me, and Rook will sit back and laugh, enjoying the show. Should I call them? Should I take the risk?

Paranoid, my brain informs me. You’re paranoid. That’s what everyone thinks. Just turn on your damn phone. Do it.

But Raylin believes me. Right? She’s seen her fair deal of violence and bad people, and she thinks you’re on to something. It’s okay to be careful. Your whole family is gone because they thought themselves invincible.

It was no accident. I had been there, with them, in the car, but I can’t… I frown, clutching at the girl in my arms. I can’t remember.

Bottom-line is… Be careful. Death comes for everyone, sooner or later—sooner for those who don’t believe in his scythe.

I doze for a while. I must have, because when I come awake, my head throbbing and my dick still wearing a condom full of cold cum, my arms are empty.

Chapter Ten

RAYLIN

My throat aches and is dry like the Mojave, so I unglue myself from Storm’s chest and go in search of water. Probably from taking his cock in so deep, I think, and I almost fall over my feet as the image slams into my brain and rocks me.

Storm guiding his cock to my lips, his face twisted with pleasure, his strong hand holding me in place as he fucks my mouth. Then lying on his back, beckoning.

Ride me, Ray.

Shit. Rubbing at my mouth, I head to the kitchen and drink straight from the tap. My thirst slaked, I decide I should shower and put some clothes on me. I’m back down in record time, wearing the last of my clean clothes, a short denim skirt and a striped tank top. There has to be a washing machine somewhere in the house, right? A laundry room.

Making a mental note to ask Storm when he wakes up, I wander to the sunken living room, but I don’t sit long. The breeze wafting through the windows lures me outside, to the patio. The lit-up pool is beautiful. I sit on the edge and dip my feet in the water, drawing a deep breath of night air.

Cool water from the pool. Some exotic flower from the garden. The sea. A warm note of rotten leaves and earth.

Peaceful. Quiet.

I wonder if he played on a beach like this one when he was little. If he swam and played in the sand and rolled on the lawns.

Probably. I try to imagine him when he was a kid, and I bet he must have been way too cute. Hell, he’s cute now, only in a badass, sexy way.

If that makes any sense.

Nope. No sense whatsoever, and who cares? I swing my feet in and out of the water, splashing softly, and grin.

That’s it, I’m fallen head over heels for this guy. The damage is done.

A flash from my right catches my attention. Is it lightning? My heart booms at the thought of thunder, and I wish for Storm’s arms around me.

I hastily get up and glance at the ocean. It’s dark, the sky overcast. No moon. Could be a storm in the making. I walk to the gate, rubbing my hands over the goosebumps on my arms.

Leaves crunch a few feet away. As I turn around, I think I see someone walking by, a barely-there shape behind the fence stretching along the gate.

Or maybe it’s an animal? What animals do they have here, in Florida? They have coyotes, don’t they?

Calm down, Ray. Even if it’s a person, so what? People live here. It’s not a deserted beach.

My pulse pounding in my ears, I turn back toward the house just in time to see Storm standing at the door, one arm braced on the frame. He’s wearing a pair of surf shorts that reach his knees and hang low on his narrow hips.

“May I interest you in a midnight swim?” He winks, giving me a crooked grin that settles my heart.

Everything’s fine. Relax. Nobody knows you’re here.

“I think I’d rather go to bed. It’s getting chilly.”

“Bed sounds good to me.” If possible, his grin turns more wicked.

I shake my head, laughing. “You’re insatiable.”

“What can I say? You make my hungry.” He waits until I reach him, then takes my hand in his. “Dammit, Ray, you…” He frowns. “You make me want. Things. More. More from life.”

I stare up at him, my pulse skyrocketing again, and wonder what exactly he’s trying to tell me. “That’s good, right?”

“It’s good.” He sighs, rubs his thumb over my knuckles and tugs me inside, closing the door behind us. “It’s new for me, that’s all. I’m trying to figure it out.”

I bite my lip. “Need help with that?”

“I need all the help you can give me,” he says, wagging his brows, and yeah, we aren’t talking about figuring this out anymore—this thing between us, which has my mind in twists, too.

But I guess we won’t be getting much sleep again tonight. And that’s totally fine by me.

***

When I roll out of bed the next morning, the other side of the bed is cold. Storm isn’t there.

We need to synchronize more. I wouldn’t mind waking up in his arms. Maybe we can negotiate something. Cuddling in the morning in exchange for… Well, I can think of a few things we could do.

Face heating as memories flood my brain, I pull on my skirt and tank top and head down to find Storm.

Laundry. Can’t forget laundry. And breakfast. My stomach rumbles. I’m foregoing any underwear today, since I don’t have any clean ones left. Feels kinda weird, but the thought of putting back on the dirty ones makes me shudder.

He’s in the kitchen, pushing a roast into the oven. He closes the oven door and turns to me, his gaze gliding over me, from head to bare toes. I wiggle them on the tiles and smile.

He pushes me back against the fridge, his hands on my cheeks, and kisses me thoroughly, with lips and teeth and tongue until I’m flustered and panting.

“Morning,” he says against my lips, then grabs me, lifts me and settles me on the counter before I can draw enough breath. He stands between my legs and wraps his arms around my back. “Sleep well?”

I hum in response. There’s a pleasant ache between my legs, which reminds me everything we did yesterday. My body wakes up, and I suck a sharp breath between my teeth when my nipples perk up.

“I think you need coffee and sex,” he says, running his lips over my cheekbone. “Not necessarily in that order.”

“Actually, I think I need a shower first.” I sniff at myself and make a face. “And laundry.”

“Bath,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

“You need a bath. I know just the thing.”

I let Storm steer me back upstairs. A long, warm soak sounds good, and I’m dying of curiosity to see where he’s taking me. I follow him into a wing of the mansion where I’ve never been.

No idea why he’s so silent, though. His teasing mood seems to have evaporated, leaving behind grimness.

We enter a square, tall-ceilinged room, one side ending in a balcony overlooking the sea. There is an enormous sunken tub, set in a floor made of polished wood. Blue tiles surround it.