When the Storm Ends

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When the Storm Ends Page 16

by Jillian Anselmi

“Dinner’s ready y’all,” Shelby hollers from the kitchen.

  As we sit around the dinner table and eat, I watch how much fun everyone is having. Shelby is cracking jokes at Brody, who’s taking them like a champ. I catch loving glances across the table between his parents, and it’s heartwarming. Someday, I want to have what they have—someone to love and a family of my own. Looking at Brody laughing and carefree, hope blossoms in my chest. I’m beginning to love all this southern hospitality, and everyone who goes along with it.

  THE DRIVE BACK from his parents seemed shorter than the trip there. Brody has on a contemporary country station, and I’m enjoying the music. This country stuff is starting to grow on me and one of the songs catches me as I tap my foot to the beat. The lyrics call to me on a deeper level, like the musician’s speaking to me. She’s singing about the beginning of a relationship, how he takes her hand and drags her head first, fearless. That’s what Brody’s been doing to me since we met.

  I look over at Brody singing the tune to himself and smile. He’s real. He’s not some guy saying shit he doesn’t mean. Living in New York, you see all sorts of fake people, people who feed you nothing but lines and bullshit, but the more time I spend with Brody, the more I know he’s different. I’ve never had a reason to doubt anything he’s said, regardless, but watching him with his family today, seeing how close they are . . . it just drove everything home a lot harder.

  I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m with him. I’m fearless when he’s with me. I’m on a cliff looking down. Do I turn around and walk back, or do I jump, taking the head first plunge into the unknown? I’m on a precipice. The touch of his hand, his breath on the back of my neck, will send me over the edge.

  Pulling into the driveway, Brody cuts the engine and gets out. Opening my door, he extends his hand. His touch ignites my libido, causing my breath to hitch. Slipping his hand into mine, we walk the short distance to his front door. Once it’s opened, I can’t help myself.

  Pushing him in, I spin him against the wall. Reaching up, I grab his face and kiss him. He doesn’t move at first, but once he realizes my intentions, a low growl comes from his throat.

  “Baby,” he mutters in between kisses, “are you sure?”

  I take a few steps back, leaving him pressed against the wall and breathless. Stripping down to my bra and panties, I crook my finger. “This way,” I purr, motioning for him to follow me.

  Looking me up and down, he whistles as he shakes his head. “I’ll go anywhere you tell me to,” he says, his voice low but losing control.

  Turning, I prance into the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed. Brody stands in front of me, but doesn’t touch me. I reach out and stroke the bulge in his jeans with the tips of my fingers. Gazing upward, I ask, “Are you ready for what I have planned?” Tracing my finger down the line of his zipper, I wait for a response. He stares down at me in awe, but doesn’t say a word, the cat appearing to have his tongue.

  Growing impatient, I unbutton his pants and yank down his zipper. Grabbing his jeans by the belt loops, I pull them down so they’re around his ankles. He kicks off his boots, the jeans going with them. Kneeling, I pull down his boxer briefs, exposing his massive hard on. “Baby, you don’t—”

  His cock is in my mouth before he can finish, a gasp replacing the words. I flicker my tongue across the head, tasting the salty pre-cum leaking out. His velvet skin is so hard, yet soft. Glancing up through my lashes, I witness him coming undone. His eyes are closed and his face is scrunched up, trying to hold on to any self-control he may have left. Palming his ass, I take him deeper so he’s touching the back of my throat, triggering my gag reflex. The fact that I’m giving him this much pleasure drives me to keep going and I swallow through it.

  Wanting to see his reaction, I peek up, taking him in slow. He gasps as he watches his cock go in and out of my mouth. His hips begin to roll as my lips glide up and down his length. “Fuck, Lani,” he moans in between sharp breaths. His fists clench as he spreads his legs wider. Moving my head up and down, I inch him in farther with each stroke, humming as I indulge myself in his thickness.

  Giving him permission, I take his hand and place it on the side of my head. Not wasting any time, his other hand finds my face and he guides me in and out. He’s slow at first, but as he picks up the pace, his legs twitch and toes curl. “Lani, I’m gonna come,” he rasps, all self-control now gone. Instead of stopping, I twirl my tongue around his tip and send him over the edge. Crying out, Brody pours himself into me, shuddering as he finishes.

  Glancing up again, I lick the tip of his cock, ensuring I get it all. His hands are still on my head, using them to keep himself upright. “Lani, that was fuckin’ amazin’,” he pants.

  Standing upright in front of him, I reach behind me and unsnap my bra. “Now that you’re taken care of, it’s my turn,” I breathe, skimming the straps down my arms. Hooking my fingers in my panties, I pull them down so I’m standing naked in front of him. “I want you to fuck me. Hard,” I murmur as I bend down to stroke his semi-hard cock.

  Grabbing his shirt by the bottom hem, he rips it over his head, tosses it on the floor, then lunges at me. Threading his fingers through my hair, he holds me steady as his mouth captures mine, unleashing the passion hiding behind his eyes. This is what I’ve been craving. He’s taken all of my fears and made me believe I can be myself again. This is what I need.

  His tongue possesses my mouth, demanding we tango. Curling an arm around my lower back, he holds me flush against his glistening body. I place a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat furiously against his ribcage. Brody takes my lower lip in between his teeth and tugs, moaning low in his throat. I shudder, the noise making my already swollen breasts throb with need.

  Brody hooks his hands under my arms and throws me on the bed. “You have the most amazin’ body,” he growls, standing above me, his eyes drifting over me in appreciation. His semi-erect cock twitches as he crawls up the bed and my body quivers in anticipation. His tongue traces circles around each nipple, making them harder than I thought possible. Threading my fingers through his hair, I tug and a flash of pleasure and pain shoots through my nipple as Brody places it between his teeth, mimicking what I’m doing with his hair. My back arches as I moan, needing more.

  His tongue runs down the center of my body, his soft lips caressing my skin. The trail burns a liquid hot fire, then numbs like pins and needles from a Novocain injection as he moves across my skin.

  As his lips inch closer to mine, his hard cock grazes my thigh, inching closer to my dripping pussy. Leaning on his elbows, his hands caress my head and his lips once again possess mine. His cock throbs against my clit and desire uncoils in the pit of my stomach. Unable to wait any longer, I twist, reaching for his erection. Brody catches me by the wrist and pins it to the bed. Making a tsk, tsk sound, he murmurs, “Lookin’ for somethin’?”

  “Stop teasing me. I need you inside me,” I cry out in desperate need.

  Nipping my bottom lip, he says, “All good things . . .” Shifting, his cock rubs against my clit and I see stars. He moves his hips slow, back and forth, rubbing me. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he rasps as he grinds his cock against me. “You sure you’re ready for this?” he asks, looking down at me, panting.

  “God, yes!” I moan, clawing at the sheets. I ache for him, my pussy throbbing, begging to be impaled. If he keeps moving the way he is, I’ll come just from the friction. He reaches behind him, unwrapping then rolling on a condom. Grabbing his cock, he guides himself to my entrance and slides it in. I’m so wet, it glides in and he rests on top of me for a moment, groaning as my inner muscles clench his shaft, needing more.

  Rearing back, he comes down hard and fast. The sensation rips through me and I scream. Stopping, he asks, “Did I hurt you?”

  “Fuck no! Don’t stop,” I cry, moving my pelvis against him. Picking up speed, his hips rotate as he manhandles me. “Oh God!” I scream, arching my back. Scraping my nails across his back, I
grip his forearms.

  Brody rears up, lifting my ass off the bed. My legs spread wide as he continues his punishing rhythm. He grips my hips, pulling me toward him as he pummels me. Gritting his teeth, he groans with each thrust. My pussy pulsates, so close to release. “This rough enough for you, Lani?” Brody grunts.

  “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” I whimper. “I’m gonna come.” Shifting slightly, Brody’s face scrunches and my body tenses as I scream out, “Oh, fuck!” My orgasm rips through me, my body shuddering as it consumes me. Two thrusts and Brody groans as he goes stiff, pouring himself into me. A few light thrusts and he collapses on top of me.

  We both lay silent and breathless for a minute, our bodies still in tune with each other. Once our breathing has slowed, he slides out and lays on his side. Brushing the hair out of my eyes, he asks, “Are you okay?”

  “That was amazing,” I whisper, still winded.

  Picking up my hand, he kisses the inside of my wrist. “No, you’re amazin’,” he murmurs, kissing my palm. “I was afraid I would hurt you.”

  Looking into his blissful gaze, I say, “You could never hurt me.” The smile that I’m awarded with is better than anything I could’ve asked for.

  THE NEXT MORNING as Brody and I are heading to the supermarket, his cell phone rings. “This is Russell.” I watch as his light expression turns grim. “I’ve got Lani with me,” he mutters low. Turning to look at me, I know something’s wrong. There’s a sadness hiding behind his eyes that wasn’t there a minute ago. “We’ll be right there,” he utters, then hits end. His face sags like an old pillow being propped up against a headboard. “We need to make a pit stop,” he says, his voice low.

  “We?”

  “I’ll explain when we get there,” he answers, his jaw ticking as he turns the wheel so hard, I would have slammed into the door had the seatbelt not saved me. I grab onto the holy shit bar above the window for dear life as Brody does a one-eighty and takes off in the direction we were just coming from.

  Neither of us say a word. Brody focuses on the road ahead and I focus on the look he gave me after his call. Something’s not right. I can feel it. The tension is so thick, you can slice it with a knife. His features are clouded; he’s trying to hide his emotions. There’s something he’s not telling me and I don’t like being kept in the dark. “Brody—”

  “We’re almost there.”

  “I’m not a mushroom,” I snap.

  “What?” he asks, glancing in my direction.

  “A mushroom,” I repeat. “You know, they’re fed shit and kept in the dark. Sound familiar?”

  Grimacing, he runs his hand through his hair. “You’ll understand in a minute.”

  After a few quick turns, we pull up to a mass of police lights. Crime scene tape separates us from the officers on the other side and a white sheet in the center of the road. “Stay here until I call you.” His voice is low and stern, so I do as I’m told. Brody jumps out of the truck, ducks under the yellow tape, and finds Travis.

  After a few long minutes, I can’t wait any longer and jump out of the truck, making a beeline straight for Brody. He’s talking with Travis and catches me out the corner of his eye. “Delani, wait,” he warns, placing his hands up.

  “Why am I here? What aren’t you telling me?” I ask both of them, still moving forward.

  “Delani, I asked Brody to bring you here,” Travis says, walking toward me.

  “Why?” I stop, waiting for an explanation.

  “Give me a second and I’ll tell you.” Placing my hands on my hips, I glare at Travis, then Brody. Brody looks down, shuffling from foot to foot.

  “Before I show you, I need to tell you something.” Travis’s voice is serene, like he’s talking to a wounded animal.

  “Okay,” I agree. The hairs on my body stand on end. I don’t like his tone.

  “I need you to be calm and not do anything crazy,” he continues.

  Narrowing my eyes, I blurt, “Spill it, Travis.”

  Taking a breath, he says, “There’s been a shooting. A man was killed earlier this morning. I’m not totally sure . . . but I need you to look at the body.”

  “Why me?” I demand, but the ghost of a thought pops into my head.

  “Lani, darlin’,” Brody says, slow and controlled, “Travis thinks it might be Cole.” Everything stops. Brody’s mouth is moving, but I don’t hear anything. Cole? Dead? I look at Travis’s face. His jaw is clenched, but it’s his eyes that tell me what I need to know. They’re apologetic. I need to see for myself. I need to see if it’s really true.

  “Is that him, under that sheet?” I whisper. Travis nods. Spinning, I make a mad dash toward the white piece of plastic covering what could be Cole.

  “Lani, please,” Brody calls after me, but I don’t stop. As I get closer, two officers block my path and I glare at them before trying to get around them.

  “Ma’am, this is—”

  “Let me through!” I shout, cutting them off and shoving at their arms.

  “Let her through,” Travis sighs from behind me. “Just, don’t touch anything, okay?”

  I push my way past the officers, sprinting toward the lifeless body in the middle of the street. Standing over what could be Cole, I close my eyes and pray it’s someone who looks like Cole—pray he’s not lying here at my feet, but somewhere far away. As angry as I am at him, I would never wish him dead. A gloved officer pulls back the sheet and my hand flies to my mouth, trying to quiet my scream. Pain lacerates through my chest, my heart shattering into tiny little pieces. It’s him. It’s Cole.

  Breathing hard, I huddle over Cole’s cold body. His dark brown hair is matted and stuck to his cheek and forehead. His eyes, those beautiful golden brown eyes, are dull and lifeless. His tan skin is pale and glossy, his body resting in a pool of blood coming from the holes in his chest. I count six and the sheet wasn’t pulled past his waist.

  All I can do is stare. I can’t move. I can’t think. Who would do this? I reach out to touch his face. “Lani?” Brody asks from behind me, halting my arm.

  “It’s him,” I say, my voice hoarse from unshed tears. My heart is cracking in pain and agony.

  “Lani—”

  “What?”

  “I’m so sorry.” My head snaps up. The desolate look on Brody’s face says it all. Looking back at Cole, I murmur, “The last thing I said to him was cold and heartless. I didn’t think . . .” My voice begins to crack and I can’t finish my thought. I’m pulled to my feet and spun around. Brody wraps his arms around me, and I let him.

  “I’m really sorry.”

  I should be crying, a real hot mess, but I can’t. I’m frozen. Brody strokes my hair as I concentrate on the sound of his heart . . . which is beating steadily—unlike Cole’s. “Who did this?” I ask, not moving my cheek from his chest.

  “I don’t know, but I promise I’ll find out.”

  Travis walks over with something in his hand. “There’s something I think you both need to see.” Releasing me, Brody turns to Travis, who hands him a pair of gloves. “I think I know who did this,” Travis says. Once his gloves are on, Brody takes a piece of folded paper from Travis’s grasp.

  Unfolding the paper carefully, Brody appears to be reading, then frowns. Growling under his breath, Brody closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “What does it say?” I ask.

  His jaw ticks as he looks back down, staring at the sheet. Inhaling deep through his nose, Brody looks up. “Where did you find this?” he asks Travis.

  “It was shoved in Cole’s hand, post mortem.”

  A trickle of fear runs down my neck. Furrowing my brow, I ask again, firmer, “Brody, what does it say?”

  Brody sighs, looking down at the crinkled paper in his grasp. “It says, ‘You can run, Delani, but you can’t hide. You’ll never escape me. Look what happens when you try’.” Brody glances up, his face twisted with rage. Continuing, he says, “‘You will pay for Cole’s sins. No one can protect you forever’.


  All the blood drains from my face. “It’s Armond, isn’t it?” I ask, my squeaky voice slicing through the thick Texan air.

  “That’s what we think, yes,” Travis answers.

  Handing the letter back to Travis, Brody rips off his gloves and grabs my face. “No one, and I mean no one, will ever hurt you. Do you understand? I won’t allow it.”

  “Brody, I—”

  “No, Lani. He’ll never get near you. I promise.” The threat of Armond coming after me terrifies me—but worse, he may hurt Brody. Knots form in my stomach and my head pounds with an impending migraine. Pulling me close, he wraps his arms around me once again.

  “Why don’t you get her out of here,” Travis says to Brody. “You’ve given me everything I need.”

  With his arm around me tight, Brody walks me to the truck. Opening the passenger door, he helps me up. “I need to make some phone calls. Can we go back to my place?” I mutter, almost incoherent.

  “Of course, anythin’. Stay here for a minute, I just need to ask Travis somethin’ real quick.” Closing my door, he jogs over to Travis, leaving me alone in my thoughts. Shit, there are so many people I need to call. Trying to fight back the threatening tears, I squeeze my eyes shut. Why . . . why did they have to kill him? What if they try to kill me?

  As Brody gets in the truck, I say, “I need to go.”

  “Okay, I’ll take you to your place now.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” I say, panic starting to overtake me. “I need to leave. Armond knows I’m here.”

  Brody grabs my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m not lettin’ you out of my sight. I’ll be with you every second of every day until this son of a bitch is caught.”

  “You have to work,” I sniffle. “You can’t protect me.”

  “As of now, you are under twenty-four hour protective custody. Spending time with you is part of my job description.”

  “Whose idea was this?” I ask, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

  “Well, mine,” he says, chuckling. “But Travis agrees. In fact, he’s callin’ the FBI as we speak.”

 

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