Taming the Storm

by Samantha Towle

  “I thought you weren’t letting anyone buy you a drink, except for me?” Robbi’s smooth voice comes in my ear.

  I turn to him.

  Jesus, he looks hotter than I remember. At the sight of Robbi, some of the Tom tension in my body starts to head for the door marked Exit.

  I smile at Robbi, my eyes making a quick journey over his body. I might be on a man hiatus, but I’m not blind. Robbi is lean and toned, but he isn’t ripped like Tom.

  I really like the way his torn black jeans hang on his trim hips. The fitted black T-shirt he’s wearing has a skull surrounded by flames on it with Hellraiser written underneath. It shows off his defined chest and arms perfectly.

  I hope Robbi is a hellraiser. That’s exactly what I’m in the mood for tonight—raising some hell.

  I pick the shot up and throw it back, relishing the burn from the alcohol.

  I turn back to Robbi and look at him from under my lashes, giving him a coy smile. “I bought this one myself.”

  His eyes darken on me, and I like the way it makes me feel.

  “A girl like you shouldn’t be buying herself drinks,” he says, leaning a little closer to me.

  “Smooth.”

  He throws his head back and laughs that contagious sound of his.

  I imagine that sound has women dropping their panties left, right, and center.

  “So, can I finally buy you that drink?” He gives me a panty-dropping grin.

  “You can.” I smile.

  Leaning over the bar, he lifts a hand, catching the bartender’s attention.

  “Another shot?” Robbi asks me.

  I shake my head. Probably not a good idea for me to do shots and get shitfaced. “A beer, please.”

  “Two beers,” he says to the bartender.

  I turn and lean against the bar, looking around. I see Van chatting with some girl and Sonny with his tongue down another girl’s throat. Cale is not in sight.

  I scan the crowd for Tom, and I see him across the room. My stomach ties into a thousand knots, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. He’s sitting on the edge of a stool, his long legs spread out, and standing between his legs is Ashlee. She has her hand on his chest, saying something into his ear.

  His eyes meet mine across the room, and the burn I feel is painful.

  Finding it odd that Cale isn’t around and not wanting to watch Tom with Ashlee, I get my cell from my purse, and I check to see if Cale has texted his whereabouts.

  Sure enough he has.

  Taking that chick from earlier back to the hotel. Tom said he’ll make sure you get back safely. I would have come over before I left, but I saw you talking to Robbi. I didn’t want to interrupt. ;) Love ya. x

  We’re staying at a hotel tonight since we have two shows at two different clubs in Pittsburgh. One was tonight’s show, and the next is tomorrow night. So, Tom decided we could do with a night off from sleeping on the bus, and this was the ideal time while we’re not in transit.

  I quickly tap out a reply.

  Have fun. And you wouldn’t have interrupted. I’m just having a drink with Robbi, that’s all. I’ll see you at breakfast. Love ya right back. x

  Robbi holds a beer bottle in front of me. Taking it, I lock the screen on my cell and put it back in my purse.

  “Thanks.” I smile.

  “So…” he says.

  He seems nervous. It’s cute.

  I turn my body toward his. “So?”

  He runs a hand through his hair and shifts on his feet. “Okay, I’m just gonna put this out there. I really like you.”

  “Okay…” I bite my lip, a little unsure how to respond. I wasn’t expecting this.

  “And you make me really nervous.”

  I let out a laugh. “I make you nervous? I highly doubt that.”

  “Seriously.” He moves a little closer to me. “I never get nervous around women, but you…I do.”

  I put the bottle to my lips and take a small sip. “I’m not sure if me making you nervous is a good or bad thing.”

  Lifting a hand to my face, he tucks my hair behind my ear. “Good. Really good. You’re seriously gorgeous, Lyla. It’s a little unnerving.”

  “Unnerving?” I frown.

  “Yeah. You could have any guy you want in this room.”

  His fingers run down my jaw, and he leans in even closer. His bottle clanks against mine.

  “And that unnerves me because I want you to want me, and I want it more than I’ve ever cared for before.”

  He’s looking at me like Tom looks at me.

  Only, his stare isn’t having the same effect on me as Tom’s does. There’s only a warmth in my stomach, not the blazing heat I get from Tom.

  Demi Lovato’s “Heart Attack” starts to play loudly through the speakers.

  With Tom in my mind and being aware of the fact that he is just across the room, I move back a little, leaving Robbi’s hand stranded midair.

  He quickly retracts it, putting it around his bottle before holding it to his chest. A look of distress flickers across his face. “Have I moved too fast and scared you off?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “It’s not that.” My eyes drift, and that’s when I see…Tom kissing Ashlee.

  I feel like I’ve been slapped, punched, and kicked for good measure.

  The music dulls to a painful throb in my head.

  Everything has stopped. Time. My heart. Life. The earth spinning.

  Jesus. This hurts.

  Everything ceases to move, except for what is happening across from me right now.

  He’s kissing her.

  He’s actually kissing her.

  And his hands are on her arms, holding her.

  And he’s…kissing her.

  Jesus.

  I’m going to throw up.

  Tears are burning my eyes, and a pain is scratching its way up my throat.

  I know I have no right to feel this way. I pushed him away.

  But that fact doesn’t make the pain any less.

  “Lyla?” Robbi’s voice pulls me back.

  My eyes meet his. I’m fairly sure he can see something in them.

  Then, he says, “Tom…” He turns his head in the direction of where Tom and Ashlee are. “Are you two—”

  “No.”

  “I saw the video online, and you looked—”

  “We looked nothing. The video was nothing. Just a bet.”

  “Okay.” He smiles. “I’m glad to hear it.” He moves close again. “Really glad.”

  I stare at Robbi. He’s sweet and good-looking, and he smells nice. Clean. Soap and aftershave. Like a man should smell.

  Not as amazing as Tom smells, but that’s a good thing.

  I don’t need anything resembling Tom right now. I need the exact opposite of him. Something to make the knowledge that he’s kissing Ashlee hurt less.

  That’s why I lean into Robbi and tilt my face up to his, offering him my mouth, letting him know exactly what I want.

  He smiles softly, his hands lifting to cup my face.

  I close my eyes as he moves in.

  The moment Robbi’s lips touch mine, I feel a sharp stab of guilt.

  Ridiculous, right?

  I feel guilty for kissing Robbi while Tom has his tongue stuck down Ashlee’s throat.

  Ignoring the guilt, I push myself into the kiss, putting my hand around the back of Robbi’s neck, and I open up my mouth to him.

  He seems to like that. I feel him smile against my lips, and then his tongue slips into my mouth.

  It’s…nice. His kiss is slow, gentle. Nothing like Tom’s kisses. Robbi’s lips are surprisingly soft for a guy. Not like Tom’s lips, which are firm and delicious.

  Stop thinking about Tom.

  Robbi’s fingers thread through my hair, and he deepens the kiss.

  This is a mistake.

  No. This is good. Perfect. Robbi is great.

  I shut my brain off and keep kissing him.

  Then, out of nowh
ere, a prickly sensation creeps up my spine, and my Spidey sense has me suddenly stopping the kiss. I press a hand to Robbi’s chest, pushing him back.

  He stares at me, breathing heavily. His lips are swollen with my red lipstick smeared across them.

  “Wow,” he breathes.

  I see a figure behind him, and suddenly, he’s wrenched away from me. Where Robbi was now stands a seriously pissed off Tom.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Tom growls at me.

  “Excuse me?” I blink.

  His face darkens. “I said, what the fuck are you doing?”

  I narrow my eyes at him, my hands going to my hips. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  He scowls. “Making a fool out of yourself—that’s what this looks like.”

  Well…that hurts.

  Tears sting my eyes. My anger hits, full force.

  “Fuck you!” I spit at him.

  “Am I missing something here?” Robbi’s voice comes from behind Tom.

  Tom’s head swivels around to Robbi. The look Tom gives Robbi would take down any man—quite possibly a polar bear, for that matter. Tom looks that scary.

  “Yeah, your teeth, if you don’t walk the fuck away.”

  Robbi looks past Tom to me, his eyes questioning.

  Tom turns fully to face Robbi. “Don’t look at her. Look at me.” His voice is as hard as stone. “Whatever you thought might happen with Lyla isn’t happening. Ever. Do you read me?”

  Robbi scowls and takes a step toward Tom. “And if I don’t read you? Then, what?”

  Tom lets out a humorless laugh. He moves so close to Robbi that I would definitely call it an invasion of space.

  It causes my heart to ramp up speed.

  Tom leans down into Robbi’s face and says with intention, “You really should learn to close your dressing room door, Kraft. You don’t, and someone passing by could hear all kinds of things.”

  I see something flash over Robbi’s face. Something I don’t like.

  Tom straightens up. “Lyla is a no-go area for you. So, I’ll say it again. Do. You. Fucking. Read. Me?”

  Robbi backs away. “Loud and clear.” He looks at me over Tom’s shoulder, giving me an apologetic face. Then, he turns and disappears into the crowd.

  Tom turns to me and grabs my arm. “We’re leaving.”

  I wrench it free. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you freaking Neanderthal!” After smoothing a hand over my hair, I grab my purse. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure your girlfriend over there is waiting for you to finish what you started, so you’d better get back to it.” I jerk my head in the direction of a stunned-looking Ashlee, who is still standing where he left her.

  His jaw tightens. “Ashlee’s not my girlfriend, and you know it.” Something flickers through his eyes. “That’s why you kissed Robbi, isn’t it? Because you saw Ashlee and me—”

  I hold a hand up, cutting him off. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Casanova. I kissed Robbi because I wanted to. Because he’s hot and a really great kisser. A better kisser than you in fact.”

  I might as well have just stuck my tongue out at him and said, Na-na-nana-na.

  God, I’m pathetic.

  Tom’s eyes narrow to slits. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re acting like a child right now.”

  “Me?” I yell, slapping a hand to my chest. “I’m not the one who just kicked a kid out of the sandbox ’cause I thought he was playing with my toys.”

  His face tightens, his eyes darkening to mega scary. “He was playing with my toy.”

  I hide the shiver I feel at his words. Instead, I scowl up at him. “My God, you are an egotistical bastard!”

  “Yeah, and you’re a crazy bitch. We’re leaving. Now.”

  “Are you deaf? I said, I’m not going anywhere with you!”

  I’m pretty sure the whole club is staring at us right now. But I don’t give a shit.

  The next thing I hear is this caveman growly sound coming from Tom. Then, I’m being lifted off the ground before being thrown over his shoulder.

  “Argh!” I cry out. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” he says, throwing my earlier words back at me. “You won’t come quietly, so I’m carrying your bitchy ass out of here.”

  “Put me down, you lunatic!” I hit his back with my purse.

  Then, I very quickly become aware of how short my dress is. I give the hem a sharp tug, making sure my ass is covered.

  “No,” he grinds out.

  “Psycho!”

  “Drama queen.”

  “Argh!” I scream again. “I hate you!”

  “Yeah, so I keep hearing. Now, shut the hell up because you’re making a scene.” He slaps my ass.

  My mouth drops open.

  Arrogant asshole! I cannot believe he just told me to shut up and then slapped my ass.

  I ignore the fact that in some other scenario—a bedroom one—that would have actually been really hot. I snap out between my gritted teeth, “You’re a fucking mut.” Then, for good measure, I hit his back with my purse again.

  “Yeah, I keep hearing that, too.” He chuckles.

  The vibration of it hits me in all my tingly places.

  In this moment, I’m glad that it’s my ass in his face, so he can’t see the smile forcing its way onto my lips.

  Tom jogs down the club steps before heading for the exit, carrying me like I weigh nothing at all.

  If it wasn’t so embarrassing, it would be majorly hot.

  I know people are staring at us, so I keep my head down and my eyes closed, praying he puts me down soon.

  He whistles for a cab. I see one pull up. Tom opens the door and then dumps me on the backseat.

  My ass hits the seat, my breath whooshing out with an oomph.

  Tom climbs in next to me. “Fairmont,” he tells the driver.

  The cab pulls out into traffic.

  I shift in my seat to face Tom.

  It’s a long moment before he turns his head to look at me. “What?”

  “What!” Giving him an incredulous look, I jerk a hand between us. “Are you gonna explain to me what the hell that was all about?”

  Grabbing my hand, he holds it up, presses his palm flat against mine, and then links our fingers.

  My heart stutters.

  A ghost of a smile touches his lips, making him more handsome, if that were possible. “I know you like public shows, Firecracker, but this isn’t the place. We’ll talk about it when we get to the hotel.”

  Then, he looks ahead. Sitting here, I’m stunned by everything that has just taken place. But mostly, I’m just speechless from the feel of his hand holding mine.

  Knowing I don’t want to give him a reason to let go, I don’t say a word the entire ride back to the hotel.

  Fifteen Minutes Later—Fairmont Hotel, Pittsburgh

  Keeping a firm hold of my hand, Tom leads me through the plush lobby of the Fairmont and straight into a waiting elevator. He presses the button for the twenty-third floor—his floor, I’m guessing. My room is on the fifteenth floor.

  Feeling defiant, I lean over and punch the button marked fifteen.

  The next thing I know, his hard body is pressing into mine, backing me up. I have no other choice but to go where he wants, and I end up against the wall of the elevator.

  I try to steel myself against the mouthwatering scent of him and the erection I can feel pressed into my stomach. But my body is in control, and my body loves Tom Carter.

  Desire explodes in my belly and trembles its way through me.

  Tom’s hands come up to either side of my head, caging me in.

  His lips hover over mine. His eyes darken, becoming pools of lust.

  Holy fuck.

  “You get off on your floor, and you and me are gonna have an even bigger problem than we already have.” He licks his lips.

  I’m distracted by the sight. It only serves to increase the pressure I feel between my thig
hs.

  “We need to talk, and going by our track record, it might get…loud.” His eyes flash another meaning, sending a shiver to race through my body. “Your room is next to Cale’s, but mine is the only one up there, so no one will hear us.”

  He moves away from me with that damn smirk on his face. He leans back against the wall across from me, and he folds his arms over his chest, showing off those amazing biceps of his.

  “Besides, I have something for you in my room.”

  Lifting my eyebrow, I flick my eyes to the very visible erection in his jeans.

  Tom lets out a sexy laugh. “Not that—well, not right off the bat.”

  Ignoring the lusty tingles I’m feeling, I flip him off.

  He laughs again, louder this time. I look to my feet to hide the smile forcing its way onto my lips.

  I hate the way he can get to me like this.

  It’s not long before the elevator comes to a stop at my floor. I watch the doors open, considering my options.

  Tom is stubborn, and I want to get some things off my chest with him, so I swallow my pride and let the doors close. I’m expecting a smart retort from him, but nothing comes.

  When I look at him, he’s smiling softly at me.

  It causes my heart to squeeze.

  Soon enough, the doors are opening on the twenty-third floor. I follow Tom down the hall. He stops outside a door marked Presidential Suite.

  Of course he’s staying in the best suite at the hotel.

  He slides the key card in and opens the door. “After you.”

  I’m surprised at his gentlemanly way, but I don’t let it show. I walk past him and into his suite. It’s gorgeous, and the views of the city are breathtaking.

  “You want something to drink?” he asks.

  Stealing the view from my eyes, I drop my purse onto the coffee table and turn to find Tom already at the minibar. Knowing how extortionately priced minibar drinks are and how mad I am with Tom right now, I decide to order the priciest thing in there.

  I move in beside him, leaving a safe gap between us. I lean down and peer into the fridge. I run my eyes over the price list. Great. The most expensive thing is a miniature bottle of Thomas Segal whiskey.

  I don’t like whiskey, but I still say, “I’ll have the Segal and a carton of pistachios.”