His to Claim

by Opal Carew

  “Yes, the lead singer, Travis, came in about an hour ago. He took Melanie to lunch.”

  Somehow, Rafe maintained his calm smile without even a flinch.

  “Do you know where he took her?”

  He noticed Sue glance nervously at the other woman.

  “There’s a nice café on the corner two blocks east of here called Genaro’s. The staff often go there for meals. The other likely place is Freida’s Diner another block farther.”

  “Thanks.” He turned and headed to the door.

  Why had Travis taken Melanie to lunch? He fumed. As if he didn’t know. Fuck, he needed to tell Travis to lay off. That this woman was off-limits. But knowing Travis, that would only make him pursue her harder.

  Why the hell would Melanie agree to go with Travis after he’d told her Travis would steal her away in a minute? Of course, despite the incredible night of sex they’d shared, there was no promise of anything more. Certainly nothing that said they were exclusive.

  Once on the street, he started east, but his limo pulled up to the curb. The driver got out of the car to open the door.

  * * *

  Melanie shifted in her chair as Travis stared at her with those unnerving blue-green eyes of his, waiting for her answer as to whether she was serious about Storm or not.

  “You’re hesitating.” He reached forward and took her hand, then stroked her wrist. “That makes me think maybe I do have a shot with you.”

  He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm, sending tremors through her.

  She knew she should pull her hand away, but she was mesmerized by his touch.

  “Hell, no!”

  Her head jerked around as she saw Rafe barreling into the restaurant, his nostrils flaring.

  Rock Hard

  Melanie sucked in a breath as Travis glanced around at Rafe marching toward the table. Travis winked at Melanie, then turned back to Rafe again.

  “Hey, man. What’s with the suit?”

  “Screw that. Keep your hands off Melanie.” Rafe now stood beside Travis, glowering down at him.

  Travis shrugged. “I don’t see Melanie complaining.”

  Rafe grabbed a handful of Travis’s shirt and dragged him to his feet, then glared him straight in the eye. “I said … Don’t. Touch. Melanie.” He spoke with clenched teeth, sparks flaring from his eyes.

  Melanie was aghast. She’d never seen Rafe behave this way.

  A waiter hovered in the background, looking uncertain, and the other diners sent nervous glances their way.

  She pushed herself to her feet. “I’m not going to sit here while the two of you act like children.” Then she strode from the restaurant without a backward glance. In her peripheral vision, she saw Rafe release Travis’s shirt, but as she walked along the sidewalk away from the patio, she heard angry male voices. Then she turned the corner and they were lost in the noise of the traffic and passersby.

  It thrilled her that Rafe was so possessive of her. But it also made her angry.

  Storming into the restaurant as if he owned her. Whatever they had between them was tentative at best. He had admitted that he didn’t want a relationship right now, so he had no right to scare men away from her.

  * * *

  The next morning, Rafe raked his fingers through his hair, the newspaper laid out in front of him on his desk. Just his luck that someone had taken pictures of his confrontation with Travis on their cell phone.

  “I thought you could use this.” Jessica walked in the open door of his office with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She set it down beside the paper and smiled. “Really? Fisticuffs?”

  He sipped the hot coffee as he stared at the picture of him slugging Travis in the face. “Who says fisticuffs?”

  She laughed. “Okay. Murderous rampage then.”

  “Jess, if I were in the mood for jokes, I’d laugh, but right now…” He sat back in his chair and groaned.

  She leaned against his desk. “Look, I think it’s sweet that you got jealous and punched my brother out. Having grown up with him, there were many times I wanted to do the same thing.”

  He glanced at her in surprise. “You’re not mad?”

  “No.” She smiled. “But I do think it says you have feelings for Melanie.” She rested her hand on her chest. “Which I think is sweet. Especially since I know she’s sweet on you. Have you told her how you feel?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know how I feel.” Jessica should know more than most. He’d believed he was totally in love with her, and she had felt the same about him, but in the end they both realized it was Dane she was meant to be with.

  She pointed at the paper. “Really? You’re sticking with that?”

  He scowled and pushed the paper aside. “Damn, what a shitstorm.”

  The headline read, SAVAGE, BUT NO KISS, then the article talked about how Rafe Ranier, head of the huge conglomerate Ranier Industries, confronted lead singer of the band Savage Kiss. It went on to reveal the fact that Rafe was also Storm, popular guitarist with the band, though they didn’t have all the facts straight.

  “I hear Dane isn’t too thrilled with you. He’s set up a few meetings with key business partners to discuss the article and ensure they aren’t uncomfortable with a rock musician being one of the executives at Ranier Industries.”

  “Great, so I’ve disappointed my brother, punched your brother—”

  “And given him some great press.”

  “None of that matters.” Rafe rubbed his hands over his face. “Not when I’ve disappointed Melanie. She stormed out of the restaurant and I doubt she’ll even talk to me again.”

  “She might be annoyed,” Jessica said, “but I’m sure she’ll talk to you again. Especially if you tell her how you feel.”

  * * *

  At a knock on her apartment door, Melanie put down her magazine and walked across the room. She peered through the peephole to see Storm standing on the other side of the door. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, but lingering annoyance still remained.

  She pulled open the door. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” he said with a sheepish smile, then held up a bouquet of flowers. White roses and a stem of pink lady slipper orchids.

  She took the flowers and breathed in the delicate scent of the roses. “They’re lovely. Thanks.”

  “May I come in?”

  She nodded and stepped back. He came in and closed the door.

  “I’ll go put these in water.”

  Storm followed her into the kitchen, where he watched as she grabbed a vase from the cupboard over the sink and filled it with water, then cut the ends off the stems before she put the flowers into the vase.

  “Melanie, I want to apologize for yesterday.”

  “Apologize for what exactly?” It was great that he wanted to make amends, but was he just apologizing in general, or did he understand what he’d done wrong?

  “Trick question, right?” He gazed at her, as if seeking a clue to what she was looking for. “I’m sorry I interrupted your lunch with Travis, and that I started a confrontation with him. And I’m sorry I hit him.”

  Surprise rocked through her. “You hit him?”

  “I take it you haven’t seen the newspaper today.”

  “It was in the paper?”

  Storm sighed. “Yeah. It seems someone took pictures on their cell phone. I guess it was a slow news day.”

  “Or they thought their audience would be interested in an executive from a huge company getting in a fight with a rock musician. I bet your brother isn’t too happy with you.”

  “True.”

  “Oh, I guess Jessica isn’t either, since it was her brother you hit.”

  He shrugged. “She seemed to think he probably deserved it.”

  Melanie laughed despite herself. “Is Travis okay?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t mark that pretty face of his.”

  “That’s good.”

  At Storm’s sharp sidelong glance, she could tell his jeal
ousy was as strong as ever.

  “So back to your apology, which wasn’t sufficient.”

  “Why not?”

  At her frown, he said, “Huh.” Then he scratched his head. “Uh … could you help me out here?”

  Damn. Men never got it.

  “You want to apologize for not trusting me.”

  He leaned back against the counter. “That’s the whole thing, isn’t it? It’s not just that I didn’t trust you. It’s that there was no reason for you not to take Travis up on whatever proposition he made, because…” He shrugged. “I told you I wasn’t ready for a relationship right now. And that meant we had no commitment.”

  He pushed away from the counter and stepped toward her. Maybe he wasn’t so clueless after all.

  He stood in front of her and stroked back a strand of hair behind her ear. Her skin tingled at the gentle caress.

  “I was a fool.” He cupped her cheek. “And I don’t want to lose you.”

  She watched, mesmerized, as his face approached hers. His lips brushed hers, lightly at first, then more firmly as he drew her close to his body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and melted against him, his kiss igniting her inner need.

  When he drew back, his sky blue eyes questioning, she smiled.

  “So, Mr. Ranier, are you asking me to go steady?”

  He grinned. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

  * * *

  Melanie finished putting on her mascara and gazed critically at her face in the mirror. The dark kohl around her eyes, along with the muted earth-tone shadows, made her green eyes look bigger, and the blush gave her pale cheeks a soft flush of color.

  She glanced at the clock. It was time to go.

  As much as Melanie had wanted to fall into bed with Storm after his apology last night, she’d had plans with friends she couldn’t change, so he’d promised they’d do something special tonight. He’d offered to take her to a fancy restaurant with dancing and maybe a show, but she’d told him she would rather be with him somewhere they could be alone. He’d smiled and suggested dinner and a movie at his place.

  She ran a brush through her long, dark blonde hair, then walked through the living room, stopping to take a sniff of the lovely roses before grabbing her sweater from the front closet and heading out the door toward the elevator. Moments later, as soon as she pushed open the lobby door, she saw the black limo waiting for her. She stepped outside into the warm evening air.

  “Melanie, hi. I was coming up to get you.” Storm stood a few paces ahead on the sidewalk. He walked alongside her the few steps to the car and the chauffeur opened the back door.

  Storm followed her into the limo and settled in the seat beside her. He wore his jeans this evening, but with a black button-up shirt rather than a T-shirt or tank top like she’d usually seen him in as Storm. It was a nice compromise between Storm, the rock guitarist and Rafe, the businessman.

  Of course, no matter how he was dressed, he still revved her engine. She could lean into his arms right now and ravage those full, sexy lips of his.

  He glanced toward her and smiled. “What are you thinking about?” His eyes glittered. “Me, I hope.”

  She stroked her finger along the placket of his shirt, from the neck to the second button, which was open, revealing a hint of the tattoos on his chest.

  “I’m looking forward to getting to your place.”

  He nuzzled her cheek. “If you were to keep looking at me like that and we had more than just another two blocks to go, I’d say we wouldn’t make it to my place.”

  She laughed and turned her face up, then brushed her lips against his. His arms went around her and she melted against his solid chest as she explored his mouth.

  Then the car slowed down and pulled up in front of a tall building. As the chauffeur got out of the car, Storm eased away, then the back door opened and she climbed out of the car. She walked with Storm toward the glass doors of the building in front of them. A doorman opened the door for them and they stepped into the air-conditioned lobby. It was lovely, with cream marble floors and walls, a sitting area of leather couches and tables, and lots of huge floral arrangements. The ceilings were off-white with crossed beams, and a section of the wall was covered in stacked slate, contrasting nicely with the shiny marble.

  As his secretary, Melanie had arranged for the care of Rafe’s apartment when he was gone, everything from having the place cleaned regularly to someone watering the plants, but she’d never been here. They stepped into the elevator, and Storm pushed the top button, then entered a code on a keypad beside it.

  “Your apartment building is beautiful.”

  He shrugged. “I like it.”

  He slid his arm around her and she smiled as the floor numbers flickered by. The elevator doors opened onto a bright, spacious penthouse apartment. The dark hardwood floors of the entryway gleamed in the light from the setting sun cascading in from the huge windows. In the living room, bright accent cushions in red, orange, and yellow added a nice contrast to the beige leather and dark wood furniture. The bright colors were carried through the artwork and flowering plants, adding a warmth and flair to the space.

  “I didn’t realize it would be this huge.” She pulled off her shoes, then walked across the decadently plush carpet to stare out the window at the stunning view of the city cascaded in the golden light of the sunset.

  He gestured to the couch facing a big fireplace. “Sit down and I’ll get you a drink. Champagne?”

  Her gaze flicked to his. “Really? Are we celebrating something?”

  He smiled. “Just being with you.”

  He took a bottle from an ice bucket on a stand and popped the cork without waiting for her response, then he poured the bubbly liquid into a delicate flute and handed it to her.

  She sipped, the tingly bubbles tickling her nose.

  Her eyes widened. So this is what nirvana tastes like.

  Clearly, she’d never had really good quality champagne before. As wonderful as this was, drinking fantastic champagne while sitting in this luxurious penthouse, having ridden here in a chauffeur-driven limo, it left her feeling unsettled. Rafe was totally used to this lifestyle. He’d never had to worry about money, and even though he’d spent a year living out of a backpack, he knew he had money if he ever needed it. Not like her. She had to worry about bringing in enough money to make the next month’s rent.

  As fun as it was being with Rafe, it was startlingly clear that they came from entirely different worlds.

  “What are you thinking about?” Storm asked.

  She smiled. “Oh, nothing important.”

  Her phone buzzed and she pulled it from her pocket to check the incoming text.

  “It’s from my mom. She wants to know if I can make it home for Dad’s birthday next month.”

  “That’s nice. Are you going?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I don’t know if I can justify the cost of the trip.”

  “You’re really on a tighter budget with the new job I take it.”

  She shrugged. “A little.” Actually, a lot, but then freedom had its cost.

  “What does your mother think of you working as a barista?”

  “Are you kidding? She’d freak out if she knew I’d quit my job at your firm. She was so proud of me for being an executive assistant at a big company, with a stable job, regular hours, and with benefits.”

  He smiled. “With benefits?”

  She laughed at the sexy grin on his face.

  “Yes, well, not the kind of benefits you’re thinking of.”

  “It’s too bad we didn’t allow ourselves to explore a relationship back then,” he said.

  She grinned. “Really? You would have wanted that?” She sat forward, then swiveled around onto his lap, her knees hugging his thighs, then flattened her hand on his chest. “Me coming into your office and you knowing you couldn’t touch me.” Her hand slid slowly down his solid chest. She could feel the ridges of his hard muscles
beneath the cotton of his shirt.

  “Wait, that sounds like what we did have.”

  “You wouldn’t really have expected me to have sex with you in the office, would you?” Her hand slid to her own chest and lightly glided over her breast. “You’d just have to bear having me close, knowing what’s under my conservative white blouse.”

  She cupped her breast and caressed it. Heat flared in his blue eyes. She leaned back a little and stroked down her belly with the other hand.

  “And what’s under my linen skirt.” Her fingers glided over the crotch of her jeans. “Knowing I was hot and longing for you, too, but not doing anything about it.”

  She was surprised he wasn’t drooling as he watched her hand caress the denim. Her fingertip strokes were so light she couldn’t feel it through the thick fabric, but her nipples were hard as beads and her insides ached.

  She slid her hand to his thigh, then up. “I bet you would get hard as rock under your expensive, designer business suit.” A tremor rippled through her at the feel of the huge bulge under the denim. She squeezed, eliciting a groan, then wrapped her fingers around it as best she could and rubbed up and down.

  She leaned in close and murmured in his ear, “Then there we’d be, both frustrated and horny.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “And we wouldn’t do anything about it?” he asked doubtfully.

  “No.” She drew her hand from his shaft and pressed her body down on him. Then she pivoted forward, gliding her crotch along his hard bulge.

  Oh God, that feels good.

  She pivoted again and again. His hardness stroking against her, stoking her desire. She wrapped her hands around his shoulders for purchase. His hands gripped her hips and he directed her rocking motion, speeding her up. She had found her rhythm now, electric sensations shimmering through her. One of his hands glided forward, then released the button of her jeans, then drew the zipper down. His fingers slipped inside and found her warmth. Heat flushed through her as he located her clit, then teased it as she glided over him.

  Oh, God.

  Her fingers clamped around him as she felt a tide of pleasure rising in her. She wanted to ride it all the way, but she also wanted to savor the moment.