by Molly E. Lee
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “Say that last part again.”
Blake squeezed my hand, slightly bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“A new intercept vehicle,” Daniel said, a more than proud of himself smile on his face.
“Hell. Yes!” Paul said, fist bumping John. “Goodbye, Tracker Jacker, hello Batmobile.”
I snapped my fingers at him. “No. We aren’t naming it the Batmobile.”
Paul crossed his arms over his chest. “Then what would you call it?”
I shrugged. “I’ll know it when I get behind the wheel.”
“I bet it’ll be the Batmobile,” Paul mumbled under his breath.
Blake chuckled beside me, smiling at Daniel. “Thank you. We hadn’t thought an intercept vehicle would be possible for a few years.”
“No trouble at all. We want the best for our crew.” Daniel glanced at me. “Want to take me up on celebrating? My treat.”
“How can we say no?” I asked, pulling Blake to my chest in an overly excited hug. “We have a vehicle to get closer to tornadoes,” I whispered in her ear.
“I know,” she whisper-squealed back.
I’d always dreamed of having a car that was fortified to withstand high wind velocities and hardcore debris but didn’t think I’d get the privilege for quite some time. This reality show was opening up doors so much faster than I’d ever imagined.
Blake jolted beside me and raised her hand. “Shotgun!” she yelled, and John and Paul hissed.
“Damn it!” Paul said, glaring at her. “Should’ve known you’d pull something like that.”
I smirked at Blake’s innocent grin.
“What?” she said. “It’s my spot.” She looked at me. “I’m Dash’s right hand.”
“I don’t want to know that shit,” Paul said, and John burst out laughing. Blake turned bright red, and I cut a glare to Paul to quite his taunting. “Fine,” he said, reigning it in. “Well played, Blake. Well played.”
Dinner turned into drinks, which turned into super loose conversation about what direction Daniel would like the show to take.
“Now that we’re all cozy and on board,” he said, tinkling the ice in his fourth glass of scotch, “have you given any more thought to what we discussed, Blake?”
She tilted her head, her finger tracing the edge of her wineglass. She’d decided to go with red tonight, rather than the beer we usually drank, to celebrate the news of all our new gadgets. While I was happy she was happy, I worried over its effects on her—after her second glass, she was well beyond tipsy—the wine hitting her much harder than beer ever did.
“Remind me?” she asked, her long brown hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves. The black, glittering tank top she wore showed off a tease of her skin, and her tight jeans tucked into her boots were enough to make me hard just thinking about her. Not that that was particularly difficult—I always wanted her.
Daniel tilted his glass toward me. “To you and Dash. Letting us film the passion you two clearly have. Viewers will eat it up.”
She rolled her eyes but giggled as she finished what was left in her glass. I eyed the water sitting next to the wine, and she quickly took a drink of that, as if she could tell I wanted her to drink it to avoid a hangover tomorrow. “Oh, right. That.” She shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t become the primary focus of the show, I don’t really care.”
My eyebrows raised as shock filtered through me. I knew we’d discussed playing along with the idea in order to appease the network, even going so far as to cool off on the public stuff, but she really sounded like she didn’t care anymore.
Note to self: no wine for Blake at business dinners.
I smiled, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into me.
“Wonderful!” Daniel raised his glass again and drained it. “Truly, a great night.”
It was hard to comprehend what he was saying after that because Blake stroked my thigh under the table, up and down in a soft tease that made the urge to groan crop up in my chest. After she had barely skimmed the outline of my dick—twice—I pushed back from the table, offering her my hand as I smiled down at Daniel.
“Thanks for dinner,” I said, before glancing at John and Paul. “You two good to make it back on your own?”
Paul had his eyes on the redheaded waitress a few tables over. “Not an issue, man. Go.”
John winked at Blake, who stood quietly at my side, her arms wrapped around one of my biceps.
“Night,” Daniel said.
“Good night,” Blake said over her shoulder as I tugged her out of the restaurant.
We barely made it back to my truck before she assaulted me, crushing her lips on mine so hard she slammed my back against the door. I held her to me, giving her just as much as she dished out, my heart racing with the intense give and take. I relished the level of heat we shared every time we came together—it was like we had lost time to make up for and couldn’t get enough.
“Blake,” I said between her lips.
“Yes?” she asked innocently, sucking my bottom lip into her mouth.
I groaned, digging my fingers into her hips. “Let me take you home.”
“Hurry,” she said, not bothering to walk around the truck to her side. Instead, she opened the door and slowly climbed over my seat, giving me the ultimate view of her ass.
“Good Lord, woman,” I hissed as I got behind the wheel.
She grinned, reaching across the small space between us and returning to her soft, teasing touches as I drove us back to the hotel. I concentrated on the road, knowing I wouldn’t ever risk her getting hurt—no matter how hard she tried to distract me—but warmth pulsed in my core. Anticipation filtered through my veins, and I was beyond happy she was over what had happened at the club last night. Even so, I would be sure to make it up to her tonight.
I barely let her boots touch the pavement before I scooped her off her feet, cradling her to me as I sped us toward our room. Carrying her over the threshold made me think about the ring in my pocket, but now was definitely not the time. I would ask her to marry me when she was clear headed and prepared for it—not wine-lusty with one thing on her mind. Not that it bothered me one bit.
I laid her gently on the bed, slowly pulling her boots off one at a time. She sat up straighter, reaching to unbutton my shirt, smoothing her hands over my skin as she peeled the shirt off and let it fall to the floor. Her lips were warm against the skin over my abdomen, and I arched my head back, hissing from the rush of heat that swarmed me wherever her mouth traveled.
Tucking my fingers beneath the hem of her tank top, I gently slid it over her head and popped the clasp on her bra on the way back down. I kissed her neck, her collarbone, and down to her perfect breasts, smoothing my tongue over her nipple before lightly biting it. She pressed upward, giving me full access as she moaned, and I pushed her farther up the bed, settling myself between her thighs.
“You’re stunning,” I said, trailing my tongue over her breasts and down her stomach before slowly tugging off her jeans. I sat up, admiring the way she looked in black lace panties. “Mouthwatering.”
She grinned, a devious smirk as she eyed my pants. “Your turn.”
I quickly rid myself of the pants, tossing them to the side. Running my hands over her smooth legs, I rubbed her thighs until I reached her hot center, my dick jumping when I found her panties wet where I touched.
“Fuck, Blake. You’re killing me.”
She arched her hips upward, sighing when I pressed my fingers on her clit over the lacy fabric. Quickly, I shed her of the flimsy separation between us and lowered my head, setting my mouth against her wetness.
It didn’t matter how many times I’d tasted her; it would never be enough. She was delicious, and her moans at each flick of my tongue made me harder than I thought possible. I took my time winding her up with soft, lingering laps. There was little I loved more than focusing solely on Blake, as she deserved every bit of my
attention. Knowing what I did of her last relationship . . . no amount of time would be enough to make up for all that he’d taken from her. I wanted to give Blake everything back she’d lost every chance I got.
“Dash,” she whispered my name, her breath ragged as she nearly bucked into my face.
I slipped a finger inside, stretching out her tight walls, pressing the way I knew would push her over the edge.
“Oh, God.” She clenched around my fingers, fisting my hair as I set my mouth over her clit. The bite of pain made me want to sink into her that much more. “Dash!”
My heart swelled as I brought her down from her orgasm, grinning at her as she caught her breath. “Think you can handle more?” I asked as I yanked off my briefs.
Her eyes flashed to mine before she grabbed my neck and pulled me down on top of her. “Always,” she said, teasing the tip of my dick with her warmth.
I growled, slipping my tongue between her lips, a trail of fire licking every inch of my skin as it touched hers. We’d made love countless times since that first night in my truck a year ago, but it never got old, never got routine. The heat inside me amplified, the intensity revving up another degree every time we came together.
She broke our kiss, her eyes never leaving mine as she slowly moved her hand downward between us until she gripped me. Her eyes lit up like she’d found a present, and my heart raced as she guided me inside her. With every inch my muscles coiled, the slick entry twisting me into pleasurable knots.
Wrapping her legs around me, she breathed to adjust to me inside her—something that I never took for granted every time we made love—and the minute I felt her relax around me, I thrust against her. She gasped and dug her nails into my back with each pump I gave her. The motion fueled the pulsing need inside of me, the fire roaring with every flick of her tongue against my mouth, with every touch of her delicate fingers, with every bite of her nails.
“I love you,” I said, snaking an arm underneath her, hefting her to me to bring us as close together as any two humans could be. “God, Blake, I love you so much.”
She gripped me with her thighs, her arms around my neck as she held on, taking each one of my thrusts and meeting me with her own buck of her hips. “Dash. Love . . . Oh, God!” She gasped, her words broken as I felt her tighten around me, her muscles trembling as I pinned her to me.
The wild abandon of her orgasm triggered my own, and a rush of electricity bolted through every inch of my body, releasing after several more moves until I collapsed on top of her, my head against her breasts. Our breaths matched in a ragged pattern, and I growled slightly as she scraped her fingers over my scalp.
“What I meant to say,” she said after several minutes when our breathing had evened out. “Was, Dash, I love you, too.”
I kissed her breasts softly as I looked up at her. “I figured that was what you were trying to articulate.”
She shook her head, dropping her arms to the bed as if they were simply too heavy to hold up anymore. “I may never leave this bed.”
“Then I won’t, either.” I kissed her again, unable to keep my lips off her salty-sweet skin. Moments like this were why I wanted to marry her—moments where she held me in the palm of her hand, owned me like nothing else in the world did, but at the same time she gave herself to me completely and without hesitation.
She was mine, and damn if I didn’t want to show the world who she belonged to.
Blake
SOUTH DAKOTA OFFERED more than the prospect of a supercell, though that was the reason why Dash, me, and Daniel, plus one extra camera man named Travis, were all crammed into Dash’s truck, our two extras who insisted on tagging along stuck in the too-small extended cab seats.
The scenery was vastly different than the Oklahoma and Texas settings I was used to—the stunning colors, somehow sharper in greens, blues, and oranges, taking my breath away. If we weren’t currently tracking one hell of a supercell, I would’ve asked Dash to slow down and let me enjoy the views as he wound around curvy roads bordered with wind-cut rock that looked like solid flame in color.
“Paul, how far out are we?” Dash said into the upgraded version of our old-school walkies—this one a bluetooth capable earpiece that connected to the hotspot installed in all the chase vehicles. The network had provided enough earpieces for everyone, and while I was stoked to not have to tote around a walkie talkie anymore, pushing a button on my ear was so much easier, I wasn’t psyched everyone now had access to speak to us at any given moment. Daniel had already asked John and Paul about a million questions, and having to hear the back and forth was distracting when I was trying to interpret the storm’s progression.
“Five miles,” Paul said, his voice ringing crystal clear in my right ear.
“Good,” Dash said. “When we’re a mile out, hang back.”
“Copy that,” Paul said, and the noise in my head went silent for a moment. As appreciative as I may be of the awesome new gear, it was going to take some getting used to.
Dash went heavier on the gas, which mimicked the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I could see it in the sky—the shift between clear and slightly cloudy—and the faster he went, the darker the sky grew.
“Does he always drive this fast?” the cameraman asked from the back, his production-sized camera hoisted on his shoulder, already switched on and rolling.
I spared him a glance. “Only when there is a chance for rotation.”
Dash winked at me but kept his primary focus on the road. The breakneck speeds at which he chased barely phased me anymore, not like it had in the beginning when I’d clung to the handle over the window, fearing for both our lives. The man simply had a way with setting me at ease even in the most dangerous of situations. I knew it wasn’t a good idea, to feel safe while chasing tornadoes, but I couldn’t help Dash’s effect on me.
My breath caught in my throat when I laid eyes on the supercell in the distance as we rapidly approached it. “Dash,” I gasped, unable to articulate another word.
The cell was huge, with dark gray clouds layered on top of each other, almost like a giant cake. Striking blue illuminated slivers that wrapped between the layers of cloud, the sky behind it trying to hold on to the oncoming darkness with which the storm threatened. Flecks of orange, red, and even purple brushed the cell’s smooth curves, and buckets of rain hung from the cloud’s end, soaking the road and lush green grass beneath it.
A light laugh escaped Dash’s lips, and I tore my eyes away from the cell to tilt my head at him. “What’s funny?” I asked, smiling, the prospect of the storm ahead of us making me downright giddy.
“Wedding cake supercell.” Dash leaned farther over the steering wheel, his eyes lighting up the way they only did around a storm.
“Huh,” I said, not understanding why that was funny. “I haven’t heard that term before.”
“We’ve never caught one this distinct before,” he said.
I returned my focus to the storm, the sheer beauty of it stunning me the closer we got. “The southwest portion,” I said, pointing out the window. “You see that?”
Dash nodded, slowing his truck as we approached the five hundred yard out mark.
“See what?” Daniel shoved his head between us, gripping onto the back of my seat to propel himself half-way between us.
“Slight rotation,” I said, trying to circle the area with my finger so he could see it.
He shook his head as he squinted his eyes. “I don’t see anything.”
Dash laughed again. “She does,” he said. “That’s all that matters.” He scanned the roads around us, coming to a stop just before a dirt road that would lead us in the perfect direction to get closer.
“Why are you stopping then?” Daniel asked, content to not sit back down.
Dash sighed, his eyes looking up and out of the windshield, silently cursing the rain that pelted the truck with an intense ferocity. “It’s a risk,” he said, and I could tell by his tone he was battling inside him
self on whether it was worth it to try.
I glanced from him, to the dirt side road, to the supercell before us. It filled the entire windshield and then some. “We’re close enough,” I said softly.
Dash and I both knew all too well what happened when you got stuck in the rain-soaked dirt next to a monster storm. Flashes of the tornado that had nearly sucked up Dash’s truck and claimed both our lives sent waves of dread crashing through my chest. We’d been lucky to make it out of that one alive.
“What?” David snapped.
“She’s right,” Dash said. “We can’t risk getting stranded down the road with no exit. Especially if it drops a tornado on us. And from the look of it,”—his gaze zeroed in on the portion I’d indicated, like a hawk tracking its prey—“it will.”
“Oh, come on,” Daniel said, slumping back in his seat. “How often is the perfect road just sitting there? Look at this thing. Imagine how it will appear on a seventy-inch flat screen in HD. Closer would be better.”
This was the issue with allowing non-chasers to tag along. They hadn’t lived through near-death experiences that made you smarter on the next chase. Plus, in Daniel’s instance, he didn’t know a thing about the science.
“The footage will be incredible from five-hundred yards out. I promise,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. Because it would. “We’ll snag the close shots and Paul and John are a mile back right now capturing the full scale of the cell.”
Daniel huffed in his seat. “I thought you were the all-mighty Dash Lexington,” he said to Dash, ignoring me completely. “Nothing scares you.”
Dash’s eyes cut to me, his grip on the wheel tightening. “I never claimed that about myself.”
“Well let’s make the rumored image true!” Daniel’s voice had reached near yelling levels to be heard over the pounding rain. “You said yourself you’ve never caught one of these before. Make it worth it.”
I turned in my seat to glare at him. “Are you saying this isn’t enough?” I jerked my arm toward the windshield. “Can you not see how incredible this cell is? What more do you want?”
