Taming the Storm (The Storm #3)(50)
Author: Samantha Towle

In seconds, I’m sheathed and fucking her again.

She’s sleeping now. Worn out from the four orgasms I gave her.

And she’s wearing the damn T-shirt.

I caved after she got all cute on me. I’m not happy about it. I don’t see the reason for covering up her gorgeous body. But she wanted to wear it, and I gave in.

Definitely something I need to work on. Giving in is not something I’m used to doing.

She pulled that shirt on, lay down in my arms, her head on my chest, and was out in minutes.

She’s not used to all the sex. Well, she’ll have to learn and fast, because my sex drive is really high. We’re going to be screwing like this the whole time we’re on tour.

I stare down at her. She looks even more beautiful in sleep.

Then, I look at the T-shirt and smile. I don’t why, but I get a ridiculously happy feeling from knowing she’s wearing the shirt I bought her.

But, that smile disappears quickly when my mind reminds me that shit is still here, sitting out there in the goddamn minibar.

I specifically requested no Segal in the minibar, like I do at every hotel I stay in. Stupid fuckers here obviously don’t give a shit about their guests’ requests. Yeah, well, tomorrow, they’re going to get a taste of pissed off Tom Carter.

Knowing I won’t sleep with that shit in here, I ease my arm out from underneath Lyla, and quietly slip out of bed and go through to the living room.

I open the door to the minibar and grab all the bottles of Segal. I can’t even stand to have that shit in my hands, so I quickly dump them in the wastebasket. Walking over to the door, I open it and leave the wastebasket out in the hall for the cleaners to take away.

The minute I shut the door, all the tension I was feeling leaves my body.

I go back to the bedroom and climb into bed. Lyla has turned over in her sleep, so I move up behind her and wrap my arm over her waist, feeling strangely soothed by the warmth of her body.

I’ve never slept with a chick like this before. Usually, we fuck, and then I go home.

I thought it would be weird, sleeping here with her, but it’s not. I really like it.

“Where did you go?” she asks in a sleepy voice.

She’s awake. I press a kiss to her neck. “Just to get a drink,” I lie.

“Are you going back to sleep?” She yawns.

I smile against her skin. Then, I lift her shirt and smooth my hand down her side and over her ass.

“No, I was thinking I might give you another orgasm, if you’re not too tired that is.”

I slip my hand between her legs. She parts them for me. I run my finger between her lips, finding her wet and so very ready for me.

God, she’s so fucking hot.

She shrugs, trying to feign nonchalance. “I’m not tired anymore. Sure, I guess I could go for another orgasm. I mean, you do give them so very well.”

Grinning, I reach over and grab a condom from the bedside table. Only two left. Looks like I’ll have to stock up on these babies. Not that I’m complaining.

I have that condom on in seconds. Gripping her thigh with my hand, I lift her leg higher and push inside her.

“Christ, Lyla. You’re so tight, so fucking hot.”

“Oh God,” she moans.

I start fucking her, sliding my cock in and out of her slick hole.

Having sex with Lyla is like finding my nirvana.

And I suddenly realize that this is all I want. To keep doing this with her. I can’t imagine ever stopping.

No.

I will stop. The tour will end, and so will this thing I have with her.

Instantly, I’m hit with a barrage of feelings.

A part of me—the part that is with her right now, inside her, feeling her all around me—is exhilarated and light in a way that I never have before.

But the other part of me, the part that knows I have to let this go—let her go—well, that part feels very fucking dark indeed.

The Next Morning—Tom’s Suite, Fairmont Hotel, Pittsburgh

I awake with a heavy arm resting over my stomach, hairy long legs tangled up in mine, and that sated feeling a woman can only get from having amazing sex.

Oh my God. I had sex with Tom.

Lots and lots of mind-blowing hot sex and some serious out-of-body orgasms.

So, I guess, bang goes my sex ban…with an actual bang.

Having a total girl moment, I slap my hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle.

Tom and I had sex four times. I’ve never had so much sex in such a short amount of time. Our last sex session was only three hours ago.

And I say session because sex with Tom is not a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am affair. No, siree. He’s the kind of guy who believes in oral and more oral, and sex and more sex, until I think I might die from orgasming too much.

I wonder if you can die from too many orgasms.

If you can, then…what a way to go. I’d definitely want to die from a Tom Carter orgasm.

The things that man can do with his tongue and fingers…magic.

Turning my head, I look at him sleeping beside me.

Hair falling softly across his forehead, long dark lashes fanning his cheekbones, lips slightly apart with his warm breath brushing my own.

He looks so much younger in slumber. Softer. Not the badass I know he is.

The man is a machine in bed. I didn’t know a guy could go so much and so hard and come so many times in one night.

Tom proved to me that it’s possible.

The guys I’ve slept with have all been one-timers and then lights out.

But not Tom. He just goes and goes, like the Energizer Bunny. Except, Tom is no bunny.

He’s pure primal male. The man is a beast. A very hot beast.

I should feel totally exhausted, but I don’t. My body feels worn but in the best kind of way.

I feel alive.

I haven’t felt alive in a really long time. And now, I do…because of him.

Because of him.

Oh God.

Shit! No!

I can’t have these sort of feelings for anyone, especially not Tom. Definitely not Tom.

I can’t feel anything but horny because of him.

What am I thinking? Saying I feel alive because of Tom is not good. It’s so far from good that it crossed the finish line to bad, and it’s heading for fucking insanity.

Feeling anything for him, attaching emotions to the sex we just had, is a slippery slope to a path I don’t want to end up on.

Panic grips me. I feel suffocated. I can’t breathe.

I have to get out of here.

Carefully, I lift his arm and slide out of bed.

I tiptoe around the bed, collecting my dress, panties, and boots on the way.

Heart pounding, I dress quickly in the living room and smooth my just-fucked hair down with my hand.