Chayton's Tempest

by Aliyah Burke

  Native American walked past her and on toward Tempest.

  Stopping behind her, he reached for her shoulder only to

  hesitate at the last second. “I need to talk to you,” he spoke in a

  voice loud enough to reach her over the noise in the bar.

  Wiping out the glass she had in her hand, Tempest

  closed her eyes and fought for sanity. She’d been berating

  herself for the harsh words she’d said to him this morning at

  her house. No matter what had transpired, she had no right to

  say those things; she didn’t know what the circumstances were

  that had kept him out of their lives.

  “Tempest?” his charismatic tone flowed over her body.

  “I heard you. Just give me a second.” She replaced the

  glass, hung the rag on a hook, and shared a glance with Mili as

  she turned around. “I’ll be back,” she muttered as she moved

  past the Latina waitress.

  “Take your time, sweetheart,” Mili chortled after them

  as they walked into her office and shut the door behind them.

  Tempest walked around her desk and sat down in the

  tall-backed black leather chair. She slipped off her sandals and

  allowed her feet to rest on the cool floor as she slid forward and

  placed her elbows on the desktop.

  Maverick looked across the vibrant -colored room at the

  woman who sat assessing him in her chair. With a flick of his

  wrist, he locked the door behind him then walked to a chair at

  the desk.

  Every movement of this man was a work of art. He just

  flowed effortlessly. Tempest was not blind to all he portrayed.

  He sat with a lion-like grace in the chair and stretched his long

  strong legs causally out in front of him.

  “I have to apologize for my harsh words from earlier

  today,” Tempest began only to fall silent at the wave of his

  hand and shake of his head.

  “Don’t apologize, Tempest. You have every right to feel

  how you do. I wasn’t there. And as much as it pains me, I know

  you were the one who went through all the trouble, hard times,

  and I can never make it up to you.”

  “I think if you want to get to know Dakota, then you

  should do just that; but I can’t be involved in it. I can’t get past

  my anger and it isn’t fair for him to see me being hard on you,

  so I would feel better if you just stopped trying to include me

  in the ‘get to know’ phase,” she said.

  His body exploded out of the chair in a lightning-fast

  motion. He spun the chair to the side and stood over her,

  dwarfing her with his size and presence. Leaning down,

  Maverick put his mouth next to her ear and murmured in a

  low, seductive, yet challenging voice, “I’m not going to accept

  that answer, Tempest. Mní kte shni yelo.” His lips teased the

  sensitive skin around her lobe and she shivered in response to

  his touch.

  “What did you just say?” she asked in a breathless voice.

  “I said ‘I will not go.’ You and I need to get this out of

  our system. You need to hear my side and I sure as hell have to

  hear yours. So tonight after you close up the bar, I will be

  waiting for you at your home. We get this done tonight. I will

  be waiting for you my little icamna sapa.”

  The second Tempest began to shake her head in the

  negative; Maverick clamped a hold of her chin, holding it

  immobile. His eyes grabbed hers and refused to let go. A

  gravity she’d never seen before from him filled them. “Yes,

  Tempest. Don’t test me; I won’t be very happy if I have to come

  find you.” He tilted his head closer yet as he dropped his tone

  even more. “And I would find you.”

  She swallowed. She didn’t doubt that for a single

  second. “Okay,” she stuttered. “Tonight after work.”

  “Pilámaya ye. Thank you.” His mouth stole down and he

  brushed his lips tenderly over hers. It was a kiss similar to the

  one he gave her over twenty years ago on the night Dakota was

  conceived. Standing, he backed away, still holding eye contact

  until he got to the door. There he turned, unlocked the door,

  and slipped through with one small glance back.

  He left the door ajar behind him and Tempest could hear

  the noise of her bar filtering in through the small opening.

  Every time he opened his mouth and said something to her in

  his native tongue, she got all rubbery and horny. It was

  amazing to hear any words coming from him; but when he

  spoke Lakota, it only affected her more. He’d whispered gently

  to her in Lakota that fateful night and it had turned her to

  mush then. Apparently, the years hadn’t hardened her resolve

  to that language.

  With a sigh, she slipped her sandals back on and walked

  out of her office. Maverick was nowhere in sight. Berating

  herself for looking, she forced herself to focus on her job.

  As she closed up for the night, Mili was the only one left

  with her. They walked out together and as they climbed in

  their respective vehicles, a feeling of anticipation began to fill

  Tempest. Knowing Maverick was waiting for her did strange

  things to her insides.

  With one final wave to Mili, Tempest drove away from

  work. Ten minutes later, she found herself pulling into a small

  park. Suddenly, she was nervous about facing him. “Would

  you really come find me, James?” she asked the interior of her

  Envoy. An image of his stoic face flashed before her and

  Tempest knew without a doubt he would.

  Putting her car back into gear, she drove home. As she

  entered her driveway, she saw a motorcycle parked up by the

  garage in the spot her son normally parked his car. Tempest

  turned off her engine and sat in the dark for a moment as she

  tried to rid her body of the fear, anticipation, and other feelings

  that swamped it.

  Movement by the door caught her attention and she

  looked to see the large frame of James Lonetree unfurling itself

  and gliding over to her car. He would be very formidable if he

  were angry; he was intimidating now.

  He opened the door and leaned over her to undo the belt

  that secured her. As his large body was across her, he turned

  his face and met her gaze squarely. “I’m glad you didn’t decide

  to run.”

  “This is my home, and I don’t run.” Tempest said with

  more bravado than she truly felt.

  Once she was free, he backed out and reached for her to

  assist her out of her vehicle. He stood silently beside her while

  she unlocked the front door of her house and walked in.

  Maverick followed closely and shut the door behind

  him. Unlike at the office, where she knew there were others

  near by, this time the click of the door was much more final.

  Looking around her house, Maverick took in the

  Southwest décor. Her home was relatively sparse, unlike most

  of the woman he’d known. It was like she only had the

  necessities.

  His heart dropped lower in his chest as he realized that

  her frugal living was because he hadn’t been there to su
pport

  her as the father of their child. What did I do to you? “You have a

  lovely home, Tempest.” Maverick took a seat on the couch as

  she moved further into the room, dropping the keys in a dish

  on an end table.

  She sent him a small smile. “Thanks. It was my aunt’s

  house and she left it to me when she died.”

  Standing in another impeccable motion, Maverick

  placed his large body behind her slender and curvaceous one.

  Setting his hands upon her shoulders, he tugged her back until

  she rested upon the solid wall that made up his chest.

  “Don’t struggle,” he ordered softly as his grip tightened,

  holding her in place where he wanted her.

  Tempest let herself sag back against him. For this brief

  moment, she permitted the comfort and security he offered. As

  his hands moved down her arms, she tingled with mixed

  emotions.

  She remained still for about one minute before she

  pulled away. Without looking over her shoulder, she moved

  into the kitchen and began fixing them both drinks. When she

  turned around, her gaze landed on Maverick and where he

  stood—exactly where she’d left him.

  Slowly, she took the glasses and walked back into her

  living room. He never moved until she was about to walk past

  him. Reaching out his hand, he took the glasses from her and

  carried them himself.

  Standing and waiting, Maverick watched her sit in a

  chair that gave him no opportunity to sit next to her. So he sat

  on the couch after placing the drinks on a sandstone coaster

  that depicted old cowboy boots.

  She’d fixed him ice-cold lemonade and it felt wonderful

  sliding down his throat, which seemed unusually dry. “Why

  don’t you go first,” he suggested gently as she tucked her now

  bare feet up under her in the chair.

  Tempest took a long drink herself and then sighed. “To

  tell you the truth, I’m not sure where to begin.” Her brown

  fingers curled around the bluish-tinted glass. “I went to tell

  you, but your parents refused to let me in. Your father

  demanded I tell them and they would tell you my news if they

  believed it was important.”

  Tempest shivered. “Jesus, your father scared the hell out

  of me, not that your mother was any better. My parents…well,

  my mother, had already beaten me for being a slut and banned

  me from the family. My father had arranged for my aunt to

  take me. I was eventually officially adopted by my aunt.”

  Maverick swallowed and shoved down his anger. He

  wanted to reach out with one hand and hold Tempest while the

  other wrapped around her mother’s throat and squeezed. How

  the hell could this have happened to his beautiful, innocent

  little Sarah?

  “I confronted your parents the very day I was leaving

  the state. I tried to get you to talk to me but every time I saw

  you, you went the other way. So they were my last resort.”

  Maverick didn’t bother masking the raw pain that crossed his

  face as she pressed on. “Anyway, after your parents screamed

  and berated me, telling me they had plans for you, I walked

  down the drive and climbed into my aunt’s beat-up old car,

  and she drove me away.”

  Tempest ran her finger along the rim of her glass as she

  looked everywhere but at the man in her house. No doubt it

  was hard for her to talk about this. “So I got enrolled in school

  down here and spent my afternoons and evenings in the back

  of B’s doing homework and inventory.”

  She shifted on the chair. “After Dakota was born, he

  went with me. We always stayed in the back and I did college

  work while he did school work. It wasn’t always easy, but we

  managed.”

  Tempest drained the rest of her drink. “He was a

  wonderful child.” She rose and went to a bookcase where she

  took a book off the shelf. This time when she sat down, it was

  beside the large Sioux in her living room. She placed the book

  on his lap and opened it; it was a photo album full of pictures

  of Dakota’s birth.

  “Dakota was very happy; just look at these pictures.”

  Her polish-free fingers pointed to each photo as she moved

  down the pages. Under each snapshot was scrolled writing that

  told the age and circumstance shown.

  Tears began to well up in Maverick’s eyes as he walked

  down memory lane and was introduced to the little boy who’d

  been yanked from his life. “Tell me about the birth,” his voice

  implored.

  “What’s to tell?” She gave a harsh bark of laughter. “It

  was painful; excruciating, actually.”

  Maverick left the photo album alone for a moment and

  turned his attention to the woman beside him. “But you had

  someone there?” He could hear the desperation in his tone as

  he hoped her answer would be positive.

  Tempest shook her head, her dark hair flowing about

  her face. “Nope. Aunt B had to work that night so she called

  the ambulance and had them take me into the hospital while

  she stayed at her job. She showed up near the end, after he’d

  been taken out of me.” There was no hostility in her voice, just

  acceptance.

  “Your son was very big. I did my best not to cry and

  throughout the whole thing I hoped beyond all hope you’d

  show up and hold my hand. I didn’t want to cry because I

  didn’t want you to see me with tears. I didn’t want you to see

  me as a little kid.” Tempest sat beside him, her eyes closed as

  she recounted her memory.

  Maverick shook with shame, anger, and disgust at the

  events that had led up to this. His eyes glowed with a feral fire

  that would have scared anyone looking at him. There were

  people who had to pay for this transgression. At the top of the

  list was his family.

  “I wish I had been there, Tempest. Oh, God, I wish I had

  known. I’m the worst man in the world.”

  The torment he must have been feeling was obvious to

  the woman beside him. She tried to ignore the feelings his

  words sent through her, but it was difficult. His admission felt

  honest right through to her soul, but she continued with the

  recitation. “Money was tight, but we managed. The bar is very

  profitable and Dakota got a scholarship for college. He is

  extremely smart.” Tempest opened her eyes and waved a hand

  toward the bookcase. “I have a few albums there that are filled

  with awards and accommodations he’d gotten in school and in

  college.”

  Abruptly, she stood and left, desperately needing to be

  away from the feeling she got from being that close to

  Maverick. It was like what she’d always wished for as a child,

  him and her in a house together waiting for their son to get

  home. But they weren’t a couple, Dakota wasn’t coming home

  tonight, and James wasn’t hers.

  Eleven

  Maverick didn’t stop Tempest from walking away. He

  knew she needed some time and space. The version she gave

&n
bsp; him was definitely the shortened one, but at least it was a start.

  He remained silent as she pulled more photo albums off the

  shelf and dropped them beside him on the couch.

  She sat back in the lone chair when she was done.

  Suddenly, Maverick was at a severe loss of what to do next. His

  instincts clamored for revenge on her behalf, but he knew that

  wouldn’t get it done.

  How the hell do I make something like this up to someone? To

  give his hands something to do, he began flipping through the

  albums. Soon he was totally engrossed in the pictures that

  depicted the young life of his son.

  Tempest got up again, unable to sit still. Leaning against

  the doorjamb that separated the kitchen from the living room,

  Tempest watched James peruse the albums. His hair shone in

  the gentle light of the lamp beside him that also cast a glow on

  his coppered skin.

  Biting her lower lip, she continued to stare at him. The

  years had been wonderful to him. Damn, when she’d known

  him in South Dakota, she’d had no idea he would turn out like

  this.

  He was lean and coiled like a snake waiting to strike.

  His eyes pierced right through the soul, like he could see way

  more than one wished.

  As if he sensed her gaze upon him, he met her eyes.

  Tempest tried to look away from his intense stare, but he

  wouldn’t let her. A single fluid motion had the photo album

  beside him on the couch and him up and coming toward her.

  Maverick had tried to ignore the feel of her eyes on his

  body; but when he finally looked up and saw the desire she

  couldn’t hide from him, he reacted. At that second, there was

  nothing but the deep need to feel her form pressed up against

  his.

  Moving across the room, he watched her eyes grow

  wide, but she didn’t back away. Stopping before her lush

  physique, Maverick reached out with one hand placed it on the

  back of her neck.

  His fingers sought out the thick, satiny hair and wound

  into it. With a little pressure, he brought her closer. Maverick

  settled his left hand at the small of her back, allowing those

  fingers to graze the top of her bubble butt.

  “I’m going to kiss you, Tempest,” he told her a mere

  second before his lips covered her mouth.

  It was gentle. It was tender. It was explosive as all hell.

  He nibbled on her lower lip before his tongue swept