The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  Did she ski to keep those happy memories of her mother alive? I wondered. “After you win the World Cup a couple of times, what do you want to do next?”

  “I dunno.” Her lids drooped with weariness. I curled my finger under her chin and tipped her face so I could look at her. I wanted every minute of her attention before she fell asleep. Once the morning came I would have to leave. She pried her eyes open and focused on me. Maybe she wanted the same thing. “What do you want to do after winning a couple of Grammys?”

  “Something with my art. Design album covers. Have my own studio. Something along those lines.”

  “I can see that for you,” she decided, and I smiled thinking it would freak her out how much of my work was centered on her now.

  “So no second career in modeling or music then,” I continued, pressing her for more information.

  She shook her head.

  “So you’re sticking with the skiing completely. Would you ever want to be a coach?” I wanted to be able to envision a life together for her and me away from the craziness of the careers that currently consumed us both.

  “Maybe. Definitely no modeling.” She wrinkled her nose. “I do like singing and performing at the Mine. And I like working in the studio. But I can’t ever imagine being on the road all the time like my dad was, like you are.” Her expression darkened. She glanced away. “Would you make love to me one more time?” she whispered. “If you’re not too tired…”

  I lifted her, flipped her onto her back in the middle of the bed and balanced on my arms above her. “I’m never too tired for you, Blue.” I skimmed a line along her bountiful breasts, across her tantalizing hips, down her athletically toned legs flicking the sheet aside to unveil her. I took my time staring at her, a long leisurely stroll over her naked form, and she let me. She didn’t feign modesty. She didn’t mind me the way she did the mirror, though her cheeks were flushed when my gaze returned to her eyes.

  “I love the way you look at me,” she confessed.

  “I love that you let me.” I lowered my face toward hers. “And I would love for you to sit for me sometime. I’ve done tons of drawings from my memory but to be able to actually have you in front of me would be a real treat.”

  “You’ve drawn me?” Her voice rose. “Tons?”

  Oops. I froze before nodding.

  “I don’t know how I feel about that.” She started to turn her head away from me, but I captured her chin.

  “You’ve been on my mind a lot. I sketch what I’m thinking about. You know that about me. Why does that bother you?”

  “The same reason I don’t like modeling, only there’s no airbrushing all the flaws out with your drawings. I’ve seen them. They’re very realistic.”

  Fuck. So this is why she avoided the mirror. The real reason why she probably thinks she needs to diet so much. I hated that she couldn’t see how fantastic her body was, hated that she thought she had any flaws to airbrush. Hated her fucked up childhood more than my own because at least I could lock away mine behind a door in my mind nearly as impenetrable as the steel one in the old apartment. Mostly. Except for once a year when I went to check up on Jude. Her shit I could tell was continually clawing away at her self-esteem, eroding her confidence piece by precious piece.

  “You don’t need airbrushing, Melinda.” I wanted her to see herself the way I did. The way she really was, but it had obviously taken years for her to develop such a faulty self-image. It might take years of praising her to restore it. So be it. I wouldn’t mind. I would be patient and dedicate myself to the task. “If I had my sketchpad with me right now I would prove it to you, but I can do that another time. I would rather make love to you once more instead.”

  Moving my weight to one arm, I captured her hand and brought it to my cock encouraging her to explore, stroking our intertwined fingers along my length for a bit and telling her how fucking amazing that felt before I left her on her own because I needed to kiss her. Bringing both hands back to the mattress, I lowered my head capturing her plump lower lip between my teeth and tugging on it to regain her attention.

  “Mmm,” she sighed, her grip tightening on my cock.

  I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, swiped my tongue over it, then latched onto her mouth and feasted. Her sweet cherry taste exploded on my tongue. I pumped my cock into her hand and she adjusted her legs, lifting her pelvis and sliding her wet pussy along my thigh.

  I wanted to take it slow, to make this moment last, to savor it. But I was barreling toward the edge as fast as she skied down the mountain. Her broken whimpers let me know that she was close, too.

  I ripped my mouth from hers, gliding it along her jaw and down her neck nipping her skin along the way. “I want you on top, babe,” I breathed into that sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder.

  “Oh, ok. Sure.”

  I dove to my back, sheathed myself quickly and she adjusted her position to straddle me. Lining me up at her entrance, she lowered herself inch by slick inch until she had all of my cock.

  “Fuck, you feel fantastic. I wanna suck on your tits while you ride me.” Keeping us joined, I moved us backward so I could lean against the upholstered headboard. She pressed her palms into my shoulders for leverage, sliding her perfectly tight cunt along my length while I played with her tits. Rolling. Plucking. Sucking. And licking the hardened tips that felt like textured pearls against my greedy tongue.

  “Oh, Sager.” Her breaths started getting choppier. “Don’t stop. That feels so good.”

  “You feel so good.” I lifted my hips to deepen the penetration on her next downward plunge.

  Her eyes squeezed shut. Her fingers gripping my shoulders tightened. I could feel the rhythmic tremors of her release as she started coming apart, and it catapulted me into my own release. Sinking my fingers deeper into the flesh at her hips, I took charge, topping from the bottom, jackhammering my cock into her and bringing her cunt down hard to meet my desperate thrusts.

  She screamed her pleasure. I groaned my own, emptying myself inside of her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Melinda

  I woke before Sager. It was still dark outside, but I knew he had to leave soon. I stroked my fingers softly over his brow. The thoughtful crease between them disappeared when he was asleep. I could see within the relaxed planes of his face the cute little boy he must have been at one time. My heart ached for him, for the awful things he had endured, at the same time that it swelled with pride for the admirable man he had become. The musician, the artist, the careful lover, the loyal friend. Those qualities I don’t think he recognized himself because he was too focused on the past and his perceived flaws.

  Pressing a soft kiss to his parted lips, I scooted carefully out of the bed. I tagged my Tempest shirt from the floor and hugged it to my chest before putting it on. My body was deliciously sore, but inside I was all jittery and didn’t know what to do with all the tangled emotions. The desire. The despair his imminent departure brought on. And that sharp pain that pierced through the center of my heart. I felt sublimely full and yet achingly hollow at the same time.

  I padded into the kitchen, grateful Sager had somehow convinced my roommate to spend the night elsewhere. I got out a carton of eggs and put a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. As I was just finishing scrambling the eggs, he emerged from the bedroom, hair mussed, rosary hanging in the center of his chest, jeans low on his hips, zipped but unbuttoned, belt unfastened. When I returned my gaze to his face, he was grinning at me. My eyes stalled on his brown and gold glittering ones. He wasn’t just handsome. He was something much more. That full feeling inside my chest expanded. My emotions went completely haywire. My inner voice hissed at me what this was, what I was feeling, but I tuned her out. My cheeks flushed when Sager cocked his head to the side. I realized that an inordinate amount of time must have passed without a word being said. Suddenly feeling awkward, I glanced away and saw that I had scorched the eggs. I yanked the pan off of the burner at the s
ame time that Sager moved behind me wrapping his strong warm arms around me.

  “Morning,” he rumbled, lowering his head and pressing his whisker roughened cheek to mine. The awkward feeling went completely away. Poof, just like that, the moment he had me in his arms. “You made us breakfast.” He turned me around staring down at me with gentle affection in his eyes. He brushed a strand of my hair back over my shoulder. “You should have slept in.” His dark brows came together to form a disapproving v. “You need your rest.”

  He seemed distracted. Maybe he hadn’t enjoyed last night as much as I thought he had. Maybe he had wanted to slip out of bed before I awakened. Maybe I had misread everything. Had I made things awkward cooking breakfast when he was ready to go? Was the end already here? Was it already over between us? That thought ripped through me with the force of a hurricane.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to say goodbye. The food doesn’t mean anything. You don’t have to stay to eat it. I burned it anyway.” I ran out of words as his face came closer. My eyes fluttered closed of their own volition, and I sighed like an uncertain teenager as he pressed his warm lips to my trembling ones.

  “You don’t need to apologize, Blue.” He searched my eyes after he lifted his head. “It does mean something for you to cook for me, to want to take care of me. It means a lot. I just don’t want you getting hurt because you’re not getting enough rest. It was selfish of me to come here, to keep you up again all night. I could never live with myself if you got injured because you were too tired to pay attention the way you need to when you’re out there on that mountain.”

  “I’ll be ok.” My lips framed a tentative smile. He was only worried about me. He wasn’t leaving. It wasn’t over. I spun around and filled a plate with for him with a portion of eggs that wasn’t ruined. I tossed on a couple of pieces of toast. When I turned around again he was still right behind me. His gaze dipped to the plate. He gave me a funny look when I tried to pass it to him. “You take it, Blue.” He pressed it back toward me. “I never see you eat and you must burn a million calories training.” His tone lowered. “We certainly burned up quite a few last night. I’ll grab something on the road later.”

  I shook my head “I can’t eat the toast, and there’s too many eggs for me.”

  “We’ll share it then.” He covered my hand on the plate with his own.

  “Ok. But you sit.” I gestured toward the table. “I’ll get the coffee.”

  “Let me get it. You have a seat. I wanna see you eating something.”

  I nodded, and he went to kitchen while I started to rearrange the eggs with a fork. When he came to the table he placed a mug of coffee next to the plate and took a seat beside me. I turned my gaze to him, thanked him and slid the plate toward him.

  “Did you even eat anything?” He frowned.

  “I’m not real hungry.”

  “Babe...” he began.

  “Really,” I insisted. “I made this for you. I should get something healthier. I’ll get a protein bar later.”

  He studied me a moment, then squeezed my hand and dug in. It gave me a rush of satisfaction to see him eat the food I had prepared.

  “What are your plans for the day?” he inquired between hearty bites.

  “The usual. Only Katherine’s added in swimming at the end of the day.”

  “Ah,” he said. “I thought I smelled chlorine in your hair.” He gave me a lopsided smile that made my toes curl. “I love your hair, babe. Blue was striking for sure, but you are stunning with the natural color.”

  “Thanks.” My cheeks warmed.

  “You’re welcome.” He took a sip of coffee. “It’s the usual for me, too. I want to get this album done so I will be able to spend as much time as I can with you. How about the weekend? I wanna see you. Timmons is letting us out of jail for Justin and Bridget’s wedding reception.”

  “I had to decline my invitation. I have too much to do. I won’t be free until later that day.”

  He sighed. “Later King and I have this commitment.” He looked sheepish. “Tempting Men of Tempest has a gig judging a mud wrestling contest at the Mine. It’s for charity.”

  “Sure it is.” I tried and failed not to smile. “I could meet you there, I guess. Only April...”

  “She’s not working. She’s taking the night off to go to the reception.”

  “Ok. Then I’ll see you there.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” He stared at me for a long moment. It almost seemed like he wanted to say something more but thought better of it. “I need to leave,” he explained. “I’ll never be able to sneak back in if I get stuck in Vancouver rush hour traffic. I just don’t want to go. I’m going to miss you, Blue. Miss sleeping with you in my arms.”

  “Miss the sex you mean,” I teased, trying to lighten the heavy sentiments that alarmingly aligned with my own. It was only a couple of days of separation. I would be busy. Surely time would pass quickly.

  “Miss everything,” he clarified, pushing back his chair. He took his plate to the kitchen, and I stood and watched him like someone entranced.

  He grabbed me by the waist when he returned pulling me into him, his hands balling up the material at the back of the Tempest tee. “Kiss me hard and like you mean it, Blue. I can’t let my brothers down. But I want you to know I’m sorely tempted to.”

  I hopped up, and he caught me. Legs wrapped around his waist, arms twined around his neck, I drew his face down to mine and smashed my mouth to his. All the jangled emotion settled again, but three dangerous words coalesced into a sentence dangling in brightly lit neon letters at the front of my mind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Sager

  “Stop smiling, man. You’re the brooding bassist. I don’t know this new guy. I’m afraid the body snatchers switched you with someone else since you got back from Whistler. You’re weirding me out.”

  I gave Dizzy the finger and finished tuning my Fender. We were nearing the end of our week of exile and getting ready to finalize “Beauty” the last song we needed to complete the album. Mary had approved all the previous ones we had sent over. Dalton was mixing the final version of “Liquor and Lies” for early release prior to launching the album. All of that was fantastic, but that wasn’t why I was walking on air. It was because of Melinda, hearing her sweet voice each night before I went to sleep, and thinking about her all the minutes in between. Any time I even started to get frustrated with the way that time seemed to move too slow since I had seen her, I remembered that last enthusiastic kiss and how she had stood in the condo doorway in her Tempest tee watching me as I walked away backwards to keep her in view as long as I could.

  “Is Bluebelle coming to the thing at VJ’s tomorrow?” Dizzy asked, tossing his guitar cable to the side as he stepped closer.

  “No. She’s got a shit ton of stuff to do for the Black Cat sponsorship.” I could feel King’s intense gaze sharpening on my shoulder blades as I answered. I hadn’t talked much about Melinda with him. He seemed to want to go on pretending that she was a phase that I would soon get over. Much like Melinda’s dad did with her skiing.

  “That’s too bad. April’s coming with me. It being a wedding, good vibes and all, I was hoping maybe she and Bluebelle would be able to find a way back to being friends.”

  “I don’t see that happening.” Melinda was stubborn and sensitive, and April had cut her deeply when she had snubbed her at her mother’s party. My pixie had a way of withdrawing and throwing sass to protect herself whenever she got her feelings hurt. It wasn’t really an effective strategy. It tended to isolate her. She had no close friends on the team from what I could tell, except maybe a prick named Parker that she and I both knew only wanted to get in her pants again.

  “That’s a shame, especially since I’m guessing the pixie’s gonna be around a lot from now on.”

  “Definitely.” I nodded.

  “Ok, losers.” War slid to the front edge of the piano bench and tapped his finger to the
mic. “Let’s run through this one again. But I want you to take over on lead vocals, Sage. I’ll do the backup on the chorus.”

  “No way, man.” I shook my head. Sometimes I helped out with the harmonies. My voice wasn’t bad, but being out in front wasn’t my role.

  “I’m gonna have to insist. This is your baby. The lyrics are all yours. The melody, too.” He ran a hand through his loose hair and his silver rings captured and reflected the overhead lights. “You’re passionate about the subject matter. It wouldn’t be right for anyone else to do it.” He glanced at our lead guitarist looking for his support when I gave him the look showing that I remained unconvinced.

  “It’ll be the difference between the song getting buried or it being a top 100 hit,” Bryan added. “And we need as many of those as we can get for the band to get back to where it should be, yeah?”

  Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Dizzy nodding.

  “Do it, mi hermano.” I pivoted around to look at King. “It’s a song, but it’s the passion in it that chicks are gonna dig. War’s got the rage part down. It’s already good, but it needs a softer tone, or it’s not going to come across as authentic, comprende?”

  “Ok.”

  “Excellent, I...” War trailed off as someone knocked on the door. Dizzy unplugged his SG and crossed to answer it.

  “Gentlemen.” The Queen swept inside the room. “I have excellent news.”

  Five sets of expectant eyes including my own turned to regard her. “Beth has booked Tempest an appearance with Carter Besille in New York this coming Friday.” I immediately came to attention. Melinda was in Maine for her event that same weekend. New York wasn’t that far from Maine. It was too far to drive, but it wouldn’t be to fly. Being on the popular late night talk show would be great, but I was equally as stoked to see her race.