Page 208 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
And not once does he look away.
We stay like that, connected with our gazes locked, for a long minute, maybe more. We would stay like that, if not for the incessant buzzing coming from the nightstand on Storm’s side of the bed.
“Should you get that?” I ask, running my nose back and forth against his. Storm blows out a breath.
“Probably,” he replies. “But I’m literally in the best place inside this entire house, so I’m not hard pressed to do so.”
I squeeze him with my inner muscles.
“Give me a minute. I’m old, baby,” he says, and I chuckle. The mood turns serious as I run my fingertips up and down his back.
“What’s wrong, Storm? Talk to me,” I whisper.
Storm breathes for a few heartbeats, still keeping us close together. I give him time to process. This new phase of us, the one where we’re open and vulnerable and equally carry each other, is new.
We’re figuring it out as we go, and that’s okay.
“I had…a nightmare,” he says. “You’d think it’d be impossible to have a bad dream while falling asleep inside the love of your life, but it is what it is, I guess.”
He gives me a sideways grin, as if trying to deflect the serious moment.
“What was the nightmare about?” I ask, keeping a steady up-down cadence with my hands on his back. He blows out a breath.
“You left me. You and the kids packed up and disappeared. I can’t sort out the specifics, I just knew I’d fucked up, and then you were gone.”
I hum, still rubbing his back, and he sinks into me, relaxing bit by bit.
“Here,” he says, rolling us over so that I sit on top of him. His spend seeps out of me and onto his stomach. After placing my palms on his chest, I run them up and down the broad expanse of skin.
“All right, proceed with your dream analysis, Sweetness.”
I pat his chest, sucking my teeth.
“No analysis,” I say lightly. “Just reality.”
His gaze turns haunted.
“And that is?” he murmurs.
“The reality is, Mr. Sandoval, I’m not going any-damn-where.” I lean down, giving him a deep kiss, a heartfelt kiss.
A kiss that comes from the soul.
A kiss that says, “I’m locked the fuck in, and so are you.”
Storm rips his lips from mine, panting hard as he stares deep into my eyes.
“I’m here ‘til death do us part, baby. You down?” he pants.
“I’m down to the grave and beyond,” I reply. Because I mean that shit. “What’s it ol’ dude said? The only way out is in abox.” Then I throw signs.
Storm lets out a guttural laugh that sends vibrations from my snatch to my gut. I laugh right along with him.
The buzzing starts up again, and I roll off him, glaring at his phone.
“You really should get that,” I say, and Storm sits up, sighing.
The phone rings one more time before Storm answers.
