Page 18 of Stormy Knight

Waking alone in the suite Stormy sat up looking around the bedroom she let her eyes sweep across the room, expecting something—anything—to break the stillness. Bundling the sheet around herself, she climbed from the bed. Gathering up the sheet where she wouldn’t get tangled in it, she padded across the room towards the sitting room. Standing in the doorway, the soft cotton sheet clung to her skin, her breath a little shallow in the quiet. Her fingers traced the doorframe, hoping to find Reeves working, enjoying a bourbon, even sleeping in one of the leather chairs. But there was nothing. No sign of him.

The suite, with its elegant and welcoming surroundings, felt more like a place of loneliness than a place of enjoyment. Moving farther into the sitting area, her bare feet silent on the large cowhide rug. The room was dim, the only light filtering through the large room came from the windows, she could imagine the warm breeze of a late spring night outside, the sound of crickets calling out for rain and the sounds of cattle calling to one another off in the fields. Yet, in there, all she heard was the quiet hum of the air conditioner.

Her heart skipped as she glanced at the room. The emptiness wasn’t just physical; it felt emotional, too. She turned back toward the bedroom, but it seemed just as empty. The bed, rumpled but vacant, offered no answers to where Reeves was or if he’d ever come to check on her.

As she stood there in the center of the room, wrapped in the sheet, the silence deepened. With a final, lingering glance around, she a decision. She couldn’t stay in there, not like this. She would ask Whiskey in the morning for a different room. She wouldn’t keep Reeves from his suite.

The mattress dipped softly under her weight as Stormy pulled the covers back around herself. Her body felt heavy with disappointment, the kind that sank into her bones and twisted in her chest. She had let herself believe, if only for a brief moment, that maybe… just maybe, Reeves would be different. But deep down, she knew better. She always knew better.

Reeves Salvador had been a mystery from the moment he’d stepped into her life, a smooth talker with eyes that held secrets. He’d swept her into his arms. His life. And then let her go as easily as rain falling on the dry Texas prairies.

He hadn’t even checked on her, had he? Even once. She’d been alone for hours, left to wake up in his bed, in his room, with no word from him. The sting of it cut deeper than she wanted to admit. And if she thought back on the last two years, he’d never once reached out.

Stormy swallowed back tears; the frustration was overwhelming. She didn’t want to admit it, but part of her had hoped he would’ve been different. Not perfect. Not a prince charming. But maybe a little more... present. More invested.

She let out a slow breath, willing the thoughts to quiet. Rolling over onto her side, she stared at the far wall, her mind going back over everything that had led her there.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen the signs. She had been in situations like this before—where a man would come in and promise the world, only to vanish when it counted.That was why she built walls to keep men out. But her walls had crumbled with Reeves.Don’t let him do this to you again.

But the emptiness and quiet of the room gnawed at her, and for a moment, she allowed herself to wonder: What if she had stayed open to the possibility of more? What if Reeves actually cared? What if he was just distracted or busy?

The longer she lay there, the heavier the weight of the silence pressed down on her chest. There was no sound from the hallway. No footsteps. No laughter or voices from outside the windows. The more time passed, the silence threatened to smother her. There was nothing but the rhythmic ticking of the clock. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to think clearer.Don’t give in to the loneliness,she thought.You’re stronger than this.But the ache in her chest was hard to shake.

It was then, in the quiet of the room, the truth started to sink in: she wasn’t just disappointed by him. She was disappointed in herself for still wanting something from him she knew he wasn’t offering. Still hoping for a connection she wasn’t sure was ever there. But she’d felt the connection back at the rental. The warmth of his embrace. The tenderness of his kiss. The reassurance in the way he smiled at her.

As she lay there, her mind replayed every moment she’d shared with Reeves—those intimate moments felt so real, so promising. His touch had always been gentle, like he was trying to make up for some unspoken mistake. The way he held her, his hand brushing against her cheek as though he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her skin. The kisses—God, the kisses—slow, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor each one, as if he wanted to leave a mark on her that went deeper than just flesh.

Was any of it real?Stormy wondered, her fingers curling into the sheets as she thought of their time together.Had he meant any of it?The tenderness. The whispered words in the dark. The way he’d looked at her like he might actually see her for who she was—not just the woman in his bed, not just another notch on his belt.

Stormy’s heart jolted as she felt the sudden pressure against her back. The heat of a body she hadn’t expected so close, and then a strong arm, firm but gentle, wrapping around her waist, pulling her back into the warmth of a strong, hard body.

“Stormy,” Reeves murmured, his voice low and a little rough, as if he’d been awake for hours, or perhaps just returning from some place faraway. His hand, large and warm, smoothed over her waist, urging her to stay. His touch was gentle, but there was no mistaking the quiet authority in the way he held her.

And yet,his body—his warmth, his scent—clung to her in a way that made it hard to think clearly. She could feel the tension in her muscles as he leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against the back of her neck, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around her like a trap.

“Relax,” he murmured, as if it were that simple, as if he hadn’t left her for hours in an unfamiliar bed with nothing but silence and unanswered questions. His hand shifted, sliding up her side as if to reassure her. Still, he felt the tenseness in her body.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone all night. I had some work to finish.” Reeves kissed her bare shoulder, “I’m sorry I startled you.”

Closing her eyes, she loved the sensation of his lips on her skin. “You need to make noise when you approach someone.”

“Especially when I climb into bed with them,” he joked, continuing to pepper kisses along her bare shoulder.

Reeves had thought he had all the answers before, had convinced himself that control and power was all that mattered. But with Stormy, everything had shifted. He had wanted her begging. Wanted to hear the sweet whimper escaping her lips. Then she broke through his walls without even trying, and now all he could think about was her. Not in the way he once had, chasing the high of control, the rush of conquest, but in the quiet, intimate moments where her touch was the only thing that mattered. He missed those moments. Missed kissing her soft lips and drowning in her beautiful eyes.

Her skin was warm against his, her breath soft and steady. With one look, she could change his mood, his world, and make his life one he didn’t regret.

She was everything he hadn’t known he needed, and now that he had her, he didn’t want to let her go. He kissed her again, slower this time, as if he could communicate everything he felt in that one simple gesture.

The world outside faded away, leaving only the connection between them. But he knew, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. His world wasn’t something that could be easily ignored, forgotten, and you couldn’t outrun it. But with her, he wanted to break it all down. To be raw. To be real.

And he hoped, for once, she’d see him for who he truly was. That she’d take the leap and let him in.

Stormy’s heart pounded in her chest. Swallowing hard, she tamped down her nerves. Nuzzling into his neck, she dotted the skin with soft, warm kisses. Her reward was a deep, low moan. If the house hadn’t been so quiet, she would have missed it.

Reeves kept Stormy in his arms as he rolled them over on the bed. Pulling his shirt off, he tossed it aside and began peeling her shirt from her body. He left her arms pinned in it, causing her breasts to push forward. Damn if he didn’t love the sight of the rosy colored nipples.

“I could get lost in your kisses alone,” his voice, low and tender.

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