Page 46 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

I want Shae Rivers.

Fuck, I want her over and over and?—

“I’m sor?—”

The two words cause the last thread of my sanity to snap, and when I inhale, the taste of her lips connects with my breath.

Everything explodes, casting pieces of my focus and priorities and control all over the floor of this goddamn elevator.

“Shae,” I grind out, the sound delivered on a groan. She merges into all of my senses, taking over the place where anxiety—my weaknesses—tried to take over my body.

All there is begins and ends with Shae.

She moans and pulls me closer to her with her fists tangled in my polo.

Stop this. Stop, Sandoval.

I try to pull myself away, to bring space between us so I can fit back into the Storm-sized slot I’ve created for myself in this thing called life, but then, she whimpers.

What must be generations of Sandoval men send commands from the spirit realm directly to my nervous system, because with unfamiliar intensity, I growl, “Fuck it.”

I pull her up in one smooth movement and pin her to the side of the car. Her hands are back on me then, as much the aggressor in this as I am, and I lift her leg around my hip. I want to shout as the feeling of her heat through the layers of her long skirt presses flush against my hard-on.

Fuck.I’m in over my head.

“Sweet. You’re so sweet, Shae,” I grind out, pressing kisses to her neck. I want to suck, to mark her—something I’ve never done before. I’ve never wanted to.

“Fuck, I want this man,” she slurs.

“I want you too, Shae,” I reply. I’m not even sure she knows what she just said.

This. You want this.

My hands go to her hips and then her thigh, bunching at the fabric and pulling it up, up, up when the lights flood the elevator, followed by a loud hum and grinding noise.

We pull back from each other, both blinking rapidly, when the car jolts.

“I…” Shae’s mouth opens and closes once before she swallows, and neither of us moves. Our bottom halves still press together, heat radiating between our bodies.

“Shae,” I say, just as much at a loss for words as she seems to be. But the sound of my voice must shake her because one moment we’re holding each other in our cocoon, and the next I’m on my ass, having tripped over her canvas tote bag.

“Shae?” I ask after the shock wears off, but the doors slide open, and she’s gone before I can even stand.

A small crowd circles the lobby of the econ building, all waiting for the elevator or just being nosey. Kurt, the last person I want to see, is the first face that greets me when my senses return and I finally get up from the floor.

“What happened?” he asks, peering into the cab and taking in my and Shae’s things on the floor. Protectiveness has me gathering her bag and forgotten Nalgene in one arm and my backpack in the other.

“Hell if I know,” I reply to Kurt, pushing past him but unsure where the hell to go.

“Who pissed in your Cheerios?”Riale barks as I deliver one more hit to the side of his jaw. He takes my attacks well, as he usually does, but tonight I’m on edge.

Hell, I might even be careening down the side of the mountain, way past the edge.

“Nothing. No one,” I grind out, my voice hoarse. Riale and I are both shirtless and drenched in sweat. I go to one corner of the ring, and he goes to the opposing side. The sharpripof Velcro as we drop our gloves sounds particularly loud in the dark, isolated, underground gym.

We both guzzle down water and try to breathe past our exertion.

Riale clears his throat and slaps the cap on his bottle.

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