The Grumpy Storm Chaser - Page 5

The woman’s naked body trembles beneath mine. Whether she’s still coming down from her orgasm or quaking with terror, I’m not sure. Maybe both?

People always describe the sound as being like a freight train, but it’s not. It’s louder. Like the roar of a dozen freight trains. A hundred freight trains. A thousand.

The music fades away, along with the rest of the world, as the tornado shrieks and howls around us.

“It’ll be over soon,” I yell into the woman’s ear, but the wind steals my voice, sucking it up, up, and away.

The shower curtain whips and slaps against my back, but I don’t let go. It’s the only thing protecting us from the shrapnel of tree bark, obliterated buildings, and broken homes. I can’t bear the thought of this angel’s perfect flesh being shredded by splinters of wood and steel. Something slams between my shoulder blades. The ceiling? The roof? The sky itself? It’s crushing me. Crushing us. Fear clutches at my heart, but not for me; for her.

It’ll be over soon. Whether we live through it or not is another question. But either way, the roaring will stop. The tornado will move on. It will be over.

The object on my back is carried away, and I breathe a sigh of relief. The woman wraps her arms around me, holding on tight, and my heart nearly explodes with delight. Amid this terror, she gives me something to long for—to live for. She’s a shiny sunburst in the eye of the storm.

I make a vow to myself and the heavens above. Come hell or high water, she will be mine.

Chapter 4

Petra

I’m in the middle of my climax, crying out with pleasure, when my ears pop. My eyes fly open, and I see the sexy stranger standing over me. Watching me. The expression on his face is lust personified, and my inner walls involuntarily contract, sending me crashing over the precipice once again.

I’m still coming when he yanks the shower rod down like a Neanderthal and climbs into the tub with me. When he lowers his body over mine, wrapping his enormous hands around my waist and clutching me to his chest, I’m still shaking with the aftershocks of my orgasm.

Is this a dream? It has to be, right? I’m a jumbled mess of confusion, desire, and terror. Beneath the strong stranger and wrapped in the shower curtain, I can’t see anything. I feel the man’s mouth move against my ear. Is he trying to tell me something? Panic floods my system as I realize that it’s not just the man’s words that I can’t hear. The music is gone, too. I scream, and I can’t hear that, either.

Then I realize that my hearing is fine. The howling wind is drowning out all other noises.

It’s a tornado. A shiver rolls down my spine. Cressida was right. Is this how I’ll die? I warp my arms around the man, clutching him tightly against my naked body, somehow knowing, deep in my soul, that he doesn’t wish me harm. He’s here to protect me.

After what feels like hours but is probably no more than a minute, the roaring stops as quickly as it began. Silence falls over us, except for a buzzing sound that I can’t immediately place. With horror, I realize that it’s the vibrator. It’s shifted and is now resting between my hip and the stranger’s leg. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I reach down to turn it off. Now the room is silent, except for the beating of our hearts and our mingled breath. He shifts his weight slightly, making the water in the bathtub slosh, but he doesn’t move away from me.

And I don’t mind.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“I think so.”

“What’s your name?”

“Petra.”

“I’m Colby.”

“Um, hi?”

“Hi,” he says, chuckling softly. “I’m going to move the curtain now, Petra. Some dust and debris may fall on us, so shield your eyes, okay?”

“O-okay,” I stammer, raising my hands to cover my face.

He throws off the curtain and I squint against the sunlight flooding the bathroom. For a moment, I’m disoriented and confused. This room doesn’t have any windows. Looking up, I see that a chunk of the ceiling and roof are missing, allowing the light to spill inside.

Colby stands up and looks down at me. I slowly pull my knees to my chest, trying to cover my nakedness while I regain my bearings. The bathroom looks completely different. The floor is littered with ceiling tiles, pink insulation, and drywall. Water is spraying into the bathroom from a broken pipe where the toilet used to be, and the mist creates a miniature rainbow.

“You don’t see that every day,” I murmur.

“You sure don’t,” Colby says. His eyes bore into mine, and I don’t think he’s talking about the rainbow.

He clears his throat and pulls his gaze from mine. “I think you’d better stay here while I check out the rest of the house. If your shoes and clothes are still where they’re supposed to be, where would I find them?”