Page 33 of Delicate Storm

Taking a breath for courage, I slide my shorts down my legs until I’m standing in nothing but my panties. My gaze hardens, a challenge set in my expression because it’s now or never, Window-Seat Guy, and it’s your move.

He closes his eyes and I panic, but instead of turning away like I expect, he releases a guttural groan before stalking toward me, ripping his tank over his head as I gasp.

I wanted this. It was my plan. But now that his wanton gaze is locked on mine, I’m nervous. Because I have no idea what type of guy he is.

What if he wants a girlfriend. I’m not that girl and—

He reaches the changing room and pushes me inside, slamming the door behind him. In two quick strides, he has me locked against the counter, his arms braced on either side of me, his expression feral.

“Is this what you want, or are you a tease?” His raspy words have my core pulsing as I confidently meet his state.

“I’m almost naked. I want this.”

“Well, we better fix that.”

“Fix wha—” He drops to his knees, gliding my panties down my legs so fast, I almost squeal. I had imagined and hoped he’d be the take-charge kind, but I wasn’t convinced of it. And God, am I happy he is.

His eyes lock on mine as he tosses my thong onto the floor beside my clothes, his gaze roaming my body, setting me alight without ever once touching me. My nipples stand to attention,my core throbs between my legs, and I can’t remember a time I have ever been this turned on, this desperate for a man’s touch.

And I’m not above begging. “Please.”

“Jesus. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you were thinking about when you stripped for me.”

“I want you. Anything. Everything.”God, what am I saying?This guy could be a serial killer.

“Fuck,” he groans, and the surprise in his voice suggests that he’s not, though right now, I’m not sure I’d care.

He sets his gaze on my pussy before rising to his feet and spinning me around in one movement, bending me over the counter with my ass in the air.

Our eyes lock in the mirror, and I melt into him.

“I don’t make a habit of bringing protection to the gym.” He pauses, his deep voice and intense stare making my legs jelly. “But if I did, I’d be sinking into this pretty pussy faster than you can say ‘take me.’” He cups my center and rocks into me, letting me feel how much he wants me.

And he’s rock-hard.

Leaning forward, he moves my hair away from my ear and whispers, watching me as he speaks, “I hope you don’t mind settling for my mouth. I’m a little rusty, but something tells me you won’t hesitate to correct me if I get it wrong.”

Oh God.

Arousal pools at my center, and my head spins as he kicks my feet apart, spreading my legs before dropping to his knees again, not wasting any time as he runs his tongue between my folds.

And I buckle.

My legs give way as I fall against the counter, holding on for dear life until two strong hands grip my thighs, holding me upright, while he continues his assault.

The last few days have been hell for me, with friends and my family telling me I’d made a mistake by leaving. That I wasselfish. My uncle even called me a brat, telling me I’d regret it. But if this is what regret feels like, then I’m going to be the biggest brat they’ve ever seen because…

“Oh. My. God.” I jump. “Yes. Oh. Don’t fucking move from that—Jesus.”

Window-Seat Guy’s mouth disappears, and I groan as my angry gaze darts to the mirror. “What the hell?”

“Get out of your head, Paige. Then I might listen.”

“What? How did—” He groans and I quickly shake my head. “Not important.” I can process how he knew that some other time. “As you were. I’m here. I’m ready.”

“Good girl.”

“Thank you.”

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