Storm

by Carian Cole

  She leans over to me. “Holy shit, Lukas is a fucking cutie!” she whispers.

  “Try to control yourself,” I whisper back to her, hoping Ivy didn’t hear Amy’s big mouth. Lukas didn’t introduce her as his girlfriend, but he was holding her hand on the table so I assume they must be some sort of together.

  I take a look around the dim room. The stage has a curtain drawn so I can’t see anything up there. The rest of the place is pretty packed with people. Lots of guys with long hair wearing leather surrounded by gorgeous women. Tattoos and tits galore. There’s a bar in the back and a small area selling some band swag—like the sweatshirt Storm gave me while in the truck, which I haven’t washed, by the way, because I’m sick like that, and I like that it still smells like us.

  I can feel him before I see him, and I know that sounds weird but it’s true. An electric, warm, tingly feeling comes over me whenever he is near. I turn to my left and there he is to the side of the stage, handing a guitar to someone, but his eyes are on me. He approaches our table like a panther. Slow, confident, taking in Amy and Michael before his eyes land on me and stay there. He looks fucking amazing in faded blue jeans, black biker boots, a white button-down shirt that is hanging open displaying his drool-worthy abs, and a black leather vest. As he gets closer, I can see he has that damn smoky kohl eyeliner smudged beneath his eyes, making his green eyes appear even greener.

  He greets Lukas first with a fist bump and then kisses Ivy on the cheek. She looks absolutely petrified of him.

  He turns his attention to us.

  “I’m glad you guys could make it. You gonna introduce me to your friends, baby?” He rests his hand on my shoulder as he stands next to our table. Oh, fuck. He’s not going to play nice.

  I force myself to speak as casually as I can. “This is my best friend, Amy, and this is my boyfriend, Michael.” Storm shakes their hands politely, but I catch him eyeing Michael.

  “Hey, man, thanks so much for inviting us. I’ve been a fan since the early days,” Michael says, totally oblivious that Storm’s hand is now on the back of my neck.

  Storm nods. “No problem.”

  Michael continues. “And thanks for taking care of my girl. Sorry if she drove ya crazy.”

  “Yeah, she really did drive me crazy,” Storm answers, giving my neck a gentle squeeze.

  “Can I get your autograph? And a picture?” Amy squeals. I should have known she wouldn’t be able to keep her shit together for long.

  Storm laughs. “Sure thing, honey.” He signs the back of her checkbook and then she thrusts her cell phone at me.

  “Take our picture, Ev.”

  I roll my eyes and snap a few photos with their arms around each other. I try not to seethe. “Happy now?” I ask.

  She grabs the phone. “No. Now you stand next to Storm and I’ll take your picture.”

  Clever girl. Now I will have a picture of Storm and I together.

  Storm pulls me into an embrace and we smile at the camera while Amy taps away at the screen. Michael isn’t even paying attention. He’s now deep in a conversation with Lukas and Ivy.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” I say. Before I can get away, Storm leans down and whispers against my ear, “You look beautiful. I want to drag you backstage.”

  My heart twirls as I break away from him and take my seat, just in time to see Juggsy, the girl with the huge boobs, come up and link her arm in his. She’s wearing a bright pink V-neck sweater that barely covers her girls, and Michael’s eyes immediately leave his convo with Lukas, practically diving into her cleavage.

  She completely ignores us and pulls on Storm’s arm. “Ash wants you backstage.”

  “Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Juggsy isn’t happy. “He said I should come get you. Now.”

  “I’m talking to my friends. Go tell him I’ll be there in a sec.” Juggsy eyes Amy and me like a wicked bitch and then stomps off, boobs bouncing.

  “She’s lovely,” Amy says.

  Storm smirks at her. “Yeah, she kind of helps us stay organized.”

  “They have day planners for that. Cell phone apps, too.” Amy replies, pinning him with her eyes.

  I kick Amy under the table.

  Storm nods, giving her his famous grin. “Yup.” He diverts his eyes to me. “I gotta go... You guys enjoy the show.” He smiles at me and walks away.

  I feel sick. I didn’t know Juggsy was a sort of a permanent fixture. I wonder if he’s sleeping with her. I wonder if the black bra in his truck is hers.

  “Holy shit, Ev, that man is fiiiine. Those fucking eyes,” she whispers loudly at me. “Why are you not letting him jump your ass, like, right now?”

  “Amy, control yourself. Michael is right next to you,” I say through clenched teeth. “And it looks like he already has someone to jump on, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “Come on, Ev, you’re not jealous of that slut, are you? He clearly wasn’t interested. He had his eyes riveted to you the entire time he was here.”

  “Yeah, and what about when I’m not around? She must be around all the time.”

  “Stop it, Ev. Don’t be a jealous freak. You stake your territory and show that bitch he’s yours.”

  “He’s not mine, Amy.”

  She leans closer. “He fucking wants to be! You have to make up your mind, or you’re right, he will go to someone like that. Someone like him isn’t going to wait around forever. Don’t leave him available for Miss Skanks-a-lot!”

  The lights dim, people take their seats, and a few people yell ‘woo!’ and ‘yeah!’ The curtain rises slowly, there’s fog on the stage, and different colored lights suddenly shine down on each band member. The drummer bangs out a quick intro and they go straight into playing. The song is catchy, a mix of rock and blues, and they sound great, in perfect sync. Asher is not one of those hyper lead singers who run all over the stage. He stands at the mic, leaning to the side a bit, swaying. His voice is deep and melodic, hypnotizing. He’s an emotional singer, putting every part of himself into the song. There’s another guitarist, also very good-looking, and a bass player who has a commanding aura about him. He’s tall and muscular—even more so than Storm, with long jet-black hair and dark skin. He looks like he could be Native American. I know Storm said the band members were his brothers and cousins, but this guy looks completely different from the rest of them. He’s dark, unsmiling, and oozing sensuality.

  I finally let my eyes rest on Storm, saving the best for last. Seeing him up on stage, playing his guitar, doing this kind of bounce and stomp with his feet, his hair flying around, grinning out at the audience like a Cheshire cat... There are just no words to describe how I feel. He appears to be the energy of the band. He plays with the audience, walking to the edge of the stage, letting the girls grab his legs. And, boy, were they grabbing. A whole crowd of women had made their way toward the front of the stage to get closer to the band and were screaming. They love the band. They love him.

  I feel proud. Jealous. Excited. Scared. I try to imagine myself right now in a relationship with him. Could I do this? Watch women grope at him? Watch him strut around and put on this show for several months out of the year? And where would I be? Here watching? Or home alone, wondering? Worrying? Driving myself crazy?

  The song ends and Ash throws his hands up. “Thank you all for coming!”

  The crowd screams. Storm meets my eyes. He grins and winks at me. I love when he does that.

  Amy elbows me. “Holy fucking shit, Ev. They are amazing. They are all hot as hell, too. Look at that bass player. What I wouldn’t do to be under that for a while! Hot damn!”

  Lukas leans over. “That’s Vandal. He’s my brother.” He laughs.

  “Is he single?” Amy yells across the table.

  “All the time.”

  “Don’t get any ideas!” I say to her. That’s the last thing I need right now is her getting involved with Storm’s bandmate and cousin.

  The band roars into a second so
ng, this one faster, a little bit of metal. I’ve heard this one on the radio and had no idea who it was. It’s one of those songs I would crank up and drive fast to. At that moment, I realize Storm is something I will never be able to get away from. If I were to ask him to stop contacting me, and boot him from my life, I will still have to hear him on the radio and be reminded of him. Of us. I’d have to wonder what would have happened. Forgetting him would be impossible. Not that I even could, but even attempting to do so. I glance over at the girls at the stage. Any one of those women would want to be with him or any of the guys up there. But they didn’t know these guys. They didn’t know they sat around with their eighty-something-year-old Gram drinking homemade hot cocoa. They didn’t know at home, Asher was quiet and sad. They didn’t know Storm liked to have his hand held. I knew these things.

  Lukas gets up from the table and makes his way over to the side of the stage, talks to Juggsy for a moment, then disappears. I turn to Ivy and smile at her. “How long have you been dating?” I ask her.

  Her eyes get wide and she actually blushes. “Well, we’re not really dating. Not yet really. I’m, uh, a thirty-six-year-old new divorcee. I met with him to get a tattoo done and we sorta hit it off.” Wow, so he’s a tattoo artist. Nice.

  “That’s great!” I say. “He’s really cute.”

  “I guess. I don’t know. He’s much younger than I am. He’s only twenty-four. I have an eighteen-year-old daughter who has a crush on him. She loves this band. This is all really new for me. I think I’m too old for this.”

  “You don’t look thirty-six,” I tell her, and she really doesn’t. She looks about mid-twenties to me. “And who cares about age? If you’re happy, go for it.”

  “Look who’s talking!” Amy pipes up.

  Ivy laughs softly and lowers her voice, leaning closer to me. “I heard about you and Storm. Lukas told me.”

  “Heard what?” I ask her, afraid to even know.

  “About the blizzard, how he fell for you. Don’t worry. I won’t say anything. Lukas told me about it. He wants to see him happy. I think they are kind of close. I’ve only met him one other time. He seems nice.”

  “Yes. He is.”

  The song ends and Ash grabs the mic off its stand and walks a little closer to the end of the stage.

  “So, as you guys know, my brother got stuck in a blizzard a few weeks ago, right? Like trapped in his truck in the woods?”

  Oh. Shit.

  The crowd screams.

  “So this chick he was stuck with had no fucking idea who he was. Can you believe that shit?”

  NO! The crowd yells.

  “Fuckin’ A, right? Anyway, my brother gave her one of our sweatshirts to wear. You know because he steals them all and he had one in his truck.” He looks over at Storm, who’s laughing over on his side of the stage. “And she says, ‘oh, is this one of those bands that just yells and you can’t even hear the fucking lyrics?’”

  The crowd roars and laughs. Ha Ha. Very funny.

  “So we decided to do a song with no fuckin’ yelling, just for Blizzard Chick. And as a special treat, Storm’s gonna sing this one. It’s one of his favorite songs.”

  More roaring and crazy from the crowd. I hope Ash doesn’t announce that I’m sitting here. I will die.

  “Now, you all know he can’t sing as good as me, so let’s go easy on him, okay?”

  The lights dim so far down, we can’t see anything on stage. Michael looks over at me and laughs. “This ought to be good,” he says.

  Crap.

  The sound of a violin comes from the stage, and a blue spotlight shines down on the stage on one member. It’s Lukas, playing the violin, haunting and beautiful.

  “Oh, my God,” Ivy says, grabbing my arm. “I had no idea he played the violin!”

  “They’re full of surprises.”

  Another spotlight shines down and there’s Storm sitting on a stool, center stage, holding his guitar. He looks so hot and so damn sexy. I can’t believe this man has kissed me. Had his arms around me. This same man made me an orange smoothie when I was sick and spent the weekend watching dumb comedies with me. And there he is on stage and singing a song for me.

  All of this would be perfect if I didn’t have a boyfriend.

  The other guys start to play softly, and Storm begins to sing a slow, darker rock version of Knights in White Satin. His voice is unlike Asher’s, but he is still a damn good singer, his raspy voice with a slight lilt belting out the words. The way they’ve arranged the song is awesome, his voice and the violin just haunting. Romantic. All the girls in the crowd are swooning and probably creaming in their pants. Except Juggsy. She’s staring right at me, and she’s not happy.

  I watch Michael for some sort of a reaction to the song, but he shows none. Amy, on the other hand, is practically having a fit.

  At the end of the song, Storm jumps up and takes a bow. “See? We don’t have to fucking yell,” he exclaims. “But we want to!” That starts them off into another hard rock song.

  Amy leans into my ear. “That song was beautiful. That wasn’t easy to sing and he fucking killed it.”

  “I can’t believe he did that,” I reply. “I had no idea. It was awesome.”

  After the show, Amy drags me off to the restroom, leaving Michael at the table. Just as we’re coming out of the ladies' room, Storm grabs us both and pulls us into a storage room.

  “Well, this could be fun,” Amy says, playfully batting her eyelashes. I shoot her a dirty look.

  Storm is all sweaty and smiling. He looks at Amy. “I need five minutes with her. Can you wait outside and make sure Michael doesn’t come looking for her? Please?”

  She smiles ear to ear. “Anything you ask. Behave yourselves,” she says. “You got five minutes. I’ll be right outside the door.”

  I wait until she leaves and turn to him. “Storm, you can’t do this.” Before I can say anything else, he’s got me backed up against the wall, his body pressing up against mine. He buries his face into my neck, his hands on my waist. “Holy shit, I fucking missed you,” he breathes.

  “That song—” I start to say, but his lips capture mine before I can keep talking. He kisses me long and hard, desperately.

  “Did you like it?” He finally breaks away from my lips, leaving me unsteady and reeling.

  “Yes...”

  Grabbing a handful of my hair, he yanks me to his lips. “I want you right now. I can’t fucking stand to see you with him.” He kisses me so hard I can barely stand up. I wrap my arms around his neck and allow myself to return his kiss, my body settling against his. I can feel his cock in his jeans, huge and hard, pressing against me. He lets out a small growl and grinds himself against me. He bends down slightly, and I feel his tongue licking the sides of my breasts in the opening of my sweater. He has never touched me like this before, and I don’t know if it’s from being jealous or if it’s an after effect of being on stage.

  I push on his chest. “Storm... Storm. Storm! Stop!” I shove him off me and he stumbles back a bit.

  “I’m sorry. Fuck” He shakes his head. “I’m fucking crazy tonight, I’m sorry.” He steps closer to me and puts his hands on the sides of my face, leans forward and kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry. It’s just the adrenaline from playing. It’s been a while.”

  “It’s okay...” I stare up into his green eyes, and I see fire. Want. Determination.

  His hands go to my jeans and have them unbuttoned in a second, the zipper dragged down instantly. I feel his hand slide under my panties, his fingers gliding over my clit.

  “Storm—”

  His lips cover mine. “Shh... just let me...” He picks me up effortlessly and plops me down on top of a table a few feet away. Pushing my torso down onto the table with one hand and my pants and panties down with the other, he ducks his head down, putting my legs over his head and onto his shoulders, kneels on the floor and dives between my legs, his tongue ravishing my pussy. My body lurches up from the sheer
unexpected ecstasy. His hands grip my thighs, pushing them apart, spreading me open for his mouth to kiss, lick and suck. His finger slowly slides into me, and I feel myself clenching around him. He groans and moves his mouth up to my clit, sucking, his tongue swirling round and round as he finger fucks me with one, then two fingers. I feel like I’m floating above myself, disconnected from what’s happening. I am trapped in euphoria, unable to move, unable to stop. My entire being is focused on what’s going on between my legs, what Storm is doing to me. The universe has disappeared and all that remains is the incredible feeling of his lips, his fingers, the feeling of his silky hair on my thighs. Each lick, each suck, each thrust, pulls me deeper into everything that is him. My pussy quivers and an ache settles deep inside, wanting him. My breasts swell, nipples harden, jealous for his touch. Every second pulls me further and further away from everything I thought I wanted, everything I was. I’m breaking. I’m falling. I’ve lost my walls. The past few weeks crash together in my head and in my heart, all the feelings I tried to ignore now screaming, tearing their way out, and rushing down to explode against his mouth.

  The orgasm he brings out of me is the most intense I have ever felt in my life, my entire body tightening, shaking, and then releasing, causing me to grip at his head with my hands, pulling his hair. I can’t take another second. I will die. A moment ago, I could not get enough of his mouth, and now I feel like I will shriek and pass out if he laps at me one more time.

  “Stop.” I gasp, pulling his head away. He stands and pulls my body up against him, lifts my face to his and kisses me gently, his tongue slowly caressing mine. His lips and face are wet. With me. I love it, me all over him. Like he is mine.

  “I could lick you all fucking night,” he whispers.

  Orgasmic fog slowly lifts as my mind comes back down to reality. All the wrongs immediately start screaming in my brain. Slut. Liar. He will hurt you. Idiot!