Storm Warning

by Sydney Somers

  It had been one of the most erotic dreams of his life, and stroking himself to climax had only taken the edge off the need he could still feel churning inside him.

  And three feet away stood one hell of a reason to stop torturing himself with his runaway thoughts. Braxton.

  Drew ducked his head. He needed to get a grip, or leave. Probably both.

  Gage strolled over to Drew. “So how’s vacation going?”

  “Sucks.” He finished off his beer, eager for a distraction.

  “Rae had been planning to pull me off the roster until Jordan and I ran into each other again.”

  Drew snorted. “She’d so kick your ass to hear you call it that.”

  Gage gave him a blank look.

  “You and Jordan were hardly high school sweethearts who lost touch after heading to different colleges. You let her think you were dead. For five years.”

  “Is anyone going to ever let me forget that?”

  Drew smiled. Out of everyone, he enjoyed getting a rise out of Gage the most. “You still don’t deserve her.”

  Blair laughed, and Drew glanced in her direction.

  “Now if Jordan and I weren’t together…” Gage trailed off meaningfully, his eyes locked on Blair.

  Drew damn near snarled at him.

  Gage laughed. “I knew there was a reason she was pumping me for information. Even I didn’t think you worked that fast.”

  He opened another beer instead of responding.

  “Just don’t let Brax catch you gawking at her. He’s worse than a pack of vicious pit bulls when it comes to his sisters.”

  As if he needed another reminder of that.

  “You are gawking,” Gage pointed out, and laughing, he walked away.

  He was so not gawking. He was merely appreciating the snug-fitting jean shorts that molded perfectly to Blair’s ass. Even from across the yard, the enticing scent of her shampoo and the perfume on the inside of her wrist was slowly driving him out of his mind.

  “Give me a hand,” Quinn called to him before disappearing into the house.

  Needing an excuse to put some distance between him and Blair, he followed, not surprised when she filled his arms with food to be taken back outside. When he reemerged in the backyard, it was to see Braxton being tossed over Blair’s shoulder.

  He came to a standstill, letting out a tense breath as he heard the two of them laugh.

  Braxton looked up at his sister. “You almost had me that time.”

  “Almost?” She stuck out her hand, and waited as he showed her the move again to make sure she could duplicate her first effort.

  “He’s taught them all how to defend themselves,” Quinn said next to him, following Drew’s gaze. “They might not know what’s out there, but he makes damn sure they won’t be an easy target for any of the bastards. Human or demon.”

  “Smart man.”

  “I used to hate lying to my sister about what I did, but knew I had to follow protocol. But for Brax, it’s more than just following the rules. It’s the only way he knows to keep them safe, even if it forces him to keep his distance more than he wants to.”

  They all had been taught the price that came with knowing about the evil that crossed into their realm. Even those whose genes had been mutated after an encounter with a Shadow Demon struggled to live with the truth. Few were cut out to be Destroyers. Many that the network briefed on what had happened to them became afraid to leave the house, their growing paranoia turning their minds against them in the most severe cases. It didn’t matter that the majority of people never crossed paths with a demon. Knowing they were out there took getting used to.

  Especially when you saw one nearly kill your son in front of you.

  Unlike most families of Destroyers, Drew’s parents knew what he could do. The three of them had been together, on their way home from a late dinner, when a stealth demon had cornered them. They’d seen the demon vanquished by a pair of Destroyers that had been tracking it, arriving in time to save them, but not before the hostile had attacked Drew.

  “I forgot the chips,” Quinn said, moving to the barbeque to check on the food.

  “I’ll get them,” Drew offered and disappeared back inside.

  His hand closed around the bag on the counter when he heard someone coming down the hall.

  Blair.

  She stopped in the doorway when she spotted him. Surprise crossed her face, followed quickly by suspicion when she noticed what he held in his hand. “I guess Quinn forgot she already sent someone back inside for them.” She turned to leave.

  “Wait.” He put the chips down and took a tentative step in her direction. “I’m sorry.”

  The tense line of her shoulders gave just a bit. “For?”

  “For letting you think I wanted you to leave. I had a lot on my mind, but I should never have let you walk out that door.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.”

  He took another step closer, ignoring the warning his brain shouted that only trouble lay ahead. Trouble that started with a capital B. “I should have asked you to stay.”

  “Begged,” she corrected.

  “Demanded.” He was within an inch of reaching for her.

  “And you’re not seeing anyone?”

  “Not yet,” he foolishly ventured, catching her cheek against his palm. Her skin was warm to the touch, and his gut tightened with the fierce need to pull her into his arms.

  “Sounds like you have someone in mind.” Her lips parted, indecision lurking in her eyes before she closed them for just a second and leaned into his palm.

  His hand trembled, and he gave up fighting himself and crushed his mouth down on hers. The smooth taste of her lips and silky glide of her tongue streamed across his senses. Blair fisted her hand in his shirt, dragging him closer. He locked his other arm around her waist, moving lower to the curve of her ass.

  “We should stop,” he managed after drinking in as much of her as he could without coming up for air. His body seemed convinced the only thing it needed to survive right now was her.

  “In a minute,” she mumbled, rocking up on her toes to sink deep into another kiss.

  One that snared him and pulled him so far under a demon could have drag raced through the kitchen and he wouldn’t have heard a damn thing. He groaned into her mouth, devouring her soft lips with a single-minded intensity. To take everything this woman would give him—and do whatever it took to get more.

  He took three steps, pressing her up against the wall. Already hard for her, he ached to rub his shaft against her. God, he wanted to be anywhere but here. Like his own kitchen where he could strip her down and wrap her legs around his waist and find the same intensity he had in his dream. The same they’d shared last weekend.

  Drew sensed someone to his left and opened his eyes to see Gage standing in the kitchen doorway, a you-are-so-busted grin painted from ear to ear.

  Chapter Five

  “And then what happened?” Whitney asked, staring off into space.Blair frowned at her friend. Whitney had to be coming off back-to-back deadlines if she’d overlooked the dark circles under her eyes before coming over. Whitney was the type who routinely took trips to the ladies room to actually powder her nose.

  Blair took a long drink of her wine, indulging in the slow buzz working through her bloodstream. By the time she finished her glass she’d be ready for bed. She’d planned on heading to work early tomorrow, but hadn’t been able to resist Whitney’s suggestion of dropping by for a nightcap. Which had turned into two.

  She stared suspiciously at her glass. Or was it four?

  “We did it in my brother’s bathroom,” she said, completely deadpan.

  “Really?” Whitney asked with all the interest of a retiring carpet salesman who’d already filled his final weekly quota.

  “Yeah, we went at it hard and busted his vanity. Broke a few pipes and damn near flooded the place.”

  “Flood?” Whitney’s fingers curled over the stem of her glas
s and she frowned. “What?”

  Blair rolled her eyes. “Too much caffeine today or not enough sleep? I’d say it was the wine, but unlike me, you’re still on your first glass.”

  Whitney rubbed at her eyes. “Probably both.” She stood. “I should call it a night. Why don’t we have lunch tomorrow?”

  Seeing as Whitney had only been half listening tonight, she’d likely want to hear the details all over again tomorrow.

  “Sure.”

  Whitney slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up her keys. “You sure this guy’s not playing you?”

  “Yeah.” As certain as she could be after chatting with both Gage and Quinn, on top of Drew’s insistence. While she hadn’t forgotten about the mysterious Molly, she wasn’t going to fixate on it. For now.

  Her friend headed for the door. “So is he going to call you or what?”

  “Assuming my brother doesn’t kill him first?” She’d half expected Gage to out them to Braxton at some point during the barbeque. Instead, he’d acted like he hadn’t walked in on them at all, even when her brother wasn’t within earshot.

  That hadn’t stopped Braxton from calling her later that night. The habit of making sure she got home okay had stuck with him over the years, but she knew the second he’d asked if she had a good time, he had a reason for calling. It took less than a minute for him to get to it.

  “About Drew,” he’d begun.

  “The guy you work with?” Having interviewed dozens of people, she’d gotten rather good at imitating the perfect balance of truth and deniability. “What about him?”

  “He didn’t come on too strong today? I noticed you two didn’t have much to say to each other.”

  “Maybe because I was too busy grilling Quinn. Or maybe you missed that?” He hadn’t of course, and interceded more than once when Blair got carried away with getting to know Quinn better. Usually whenever she directed the subject back to Brax and Quinn working together.

  “I really like her,” she added. “And she seems to bring out the best in you.” Blair had lost track of how often she’d heard her brother laugh and joke over the course of the afternoon and evening. His serious side tended to run deeper than most and she hadn’t realized how infrequently she saw him kick back and just relax until then.

  “Did he…uh…ask for your number?” Brax slipped in before Blair could let him go.

  Feeling stupid for assuming she was in the clear on the subject, she tensed up. “Drew? Why, does he think I’m hot?” she teased, hoping the comment didn’t sound half as forced as it felt.

  “Just a vibe I got.”

  “Should I be disappointed that he didn’t?” she asked, deciding to see what Brax would volunteer about Drew.

  “Don’t get me wrong. He’s a great guy and I would trust him with my life, just not with my sister.”

  “So he’s a player?” she guessed, tapping away on her laptop as though the subject wasn’t all that interesting.

  “I’ve known the guy for a couple of years and haven’t seen him with the same woman more than once.”

  “I could say the same about you, you know, before Quinn anyway.” She wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to point that out.

  “I just don’t think you’d be happy being involved with anyone…in my line of work. Our schedules are unpredictable and we travel more than we’re home. I’d hate to see you sitting at home waiting around all the time. You deserve better than that.”

  “I love you even when you’re being overprotective,” she’d said, then managed to get off the phone without giving anything away.

  Whitney said something on her way out the door, drawing Blair back to the present.

  “Sorry?”

  “I was just saying that given the hours you’ve been putting in lately, especially since Jonas Holson showed up on your radar, you could use some quality one-on-one with someone, even if he works with your brother.”

  At the mention of Holson, Blair sighed. She still hadn’t heard from Kenny, and her stand-in editor was pressuring her to come up with something solid or let it drop. She hadn’t realized that Greer had such an ear to the ground to know she wasn’t making a lot of progress. She’d lost track of the number of times he’d stopped by her desk today to follow up.

  And she’d been more than ready to call him on it when she thought she saw him hanging around in the parking garage when she’d left work. Whoever she’d thought was Greer had turned away the minute she called out, but for a full minute afterward, it felt like someone continued to watch her.

  Once Whitney left, Blair finished off her wine and checked her messages. After fumbling the phone for the third time, giggling hysterically at the last attempt, she shoved it out of sight. Way too much alcohol in her system to think about deadlines, missing sources, or men too damn hot for their own good.

  A knock at the door brought her head up, and stumbling over the shoes she’d kicked off earlier, she went to answer it. She was grinning over a near collision with the wall when she pulled open the door, expecting to find Whitney.

  “Hey.”

  Her hand slipped off the doorknob, but she covered the clumsy motion with a wave of her hand. “Just in the neighborhood?”

  Drew smiled, the slow curve of his mouth making her stomach backflip. “I was hoping you were still awake.”

  “How did you find out where I lived? I doubt you asked Brax.”

  His wolfish grin only dimmed a fraction, and he shrugged. “There are certain perks that come with working in my field.”

  “Ah.” She didn’t step back to let him in. She might be feeling pretty damn good at the moment, but she hadn’t forgotten how quickly he’d jumped away from her when Gage interrupted them, and she sure as hell hadn’t forgotten the excuses he made before taking off almost immediately afterward.

  One minute he’d agreed to forget about their weekend at the resort, and the next he’d kissed her senseless. Blair couldn’t remember a man sending her mixed signals the way Drew did.

  She also couldn’t remember thinking anyone had ever looked so good standing in her doorway. She knew she was staring and didn’t care, sweeping her gaze up one side of him and down the other. Her attention lingered on the front of his pants and the telltale bulge that made her achy and hot.

  Blair pressed her legs closer together.

  He took a step in her direction, erasing the small space between them. “Mind if I come in so we can talk?”

  “Talk?”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

  “About?” Not that she cared at this point. The longer he stood there, the less she wondered about what he’d come to say. Already her hands tingled with the need to reacquaint herself with his body. Not even her brother’s warnings about getting involved with Drew could stem the urge to pull him close, an urge undoubtedly heightened by the alcohol buzzing through her.

  “Us.”

  The serious tone penetrated her thoughts, and she gestured for him to come in. She got the door shut and managed to get herself settled on the couch next to him without looking like she was half a glass short of being completely intoxicated.

  His mouth twitched. Okay, maybe she hadn’t been as smooth as she thought. It wasn’t her fault the carpet was…uneven.

  Drew drummed his thumb on the inside of his thigh. “I shouldn’t be here.” He caught the ends of her hair that had fallen from the two pencils she’d stabbed through the bun at the back of her head.

  She studied the curl trapped between his fingers, then slowly raised her head to meet his gaze. “Because of my brother?”

  He shook his head. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “And that’s a bad thing because…”

  Drew glanced away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Then don’t.” Right now only one thing might hurt her—not kissing him.

  He wrapped the strand of her hair tighter around his finger, tugging her closer. “It�
�s never that simple for us.”

  She would have to ask him what us he was referring to later. Later when she wasn’t preoccupied with contemplating the best way to keep him from leaving. It hadn’t escaped her attention that his gaze had darted more than once to the door.

  Blair eased closer. “Can’t stop thinking about me, huh? How exactly have you been thinking about me?”

  The teasing question should have been his first cue to haul his ass out of there. No, his first should have been when she hadn’t slammed the door in his face.

  Drew didn’t move, not even when she drew her finger down the front of his shirt and every warning in his mind sounded that this was the last place he should be. Her palm drifted down over his stomach. He shifted on the cushion, all but reaching between his legs to adjust the seam of his pants where it strained across his hard-on. Since Blair had opened the door, he’d been too aware of her—was too aware of her now. Aware of the wicked glint in her eyes, the few buttons undone that gave him an enticing view of her breasts, the ultra short skirt he wanted to shove to her waist.

  He hadn’t planned on coming here, but recognized the street name when he’d left his parents’ to drive around aimlessly. A smart man, who had no plans to get involved with a fellow agent’s sister, had no business using the network’s resources to find out things about her, like where she lived. No business knocking on her door or taking one step past the threshold.

  Kissing her, much less getting her naked, was the very last way to simplify his life, and still he couldn’t bring himself to get up. Aside from being incredibly turned on by the slow trail of her hand across his abdomen, something about this woman unfurled the tension tangled around his ribs.

  “Tell me,” she pleaded, “tell me what I’m doing when you think about me.” She cupped the base of his cock through his pants, closing her hand around him.

  Drew bit down, sinking his fingers into the cushion. She watched him closely and unsnapped his pants, tugging at the waistband of his boxers until she’d pulled them down. His arousal sprang upwards as though seeking the wet heat of her mouth.