Back to You: Bad Boys of Red Hook (23 page)

“I don’t know. Everything has changed, but nothing is different. You still live on the other side of the world”—she pointed at Red Hook—“and my life is over there.
People depend on me—Pete, Nicki, my mother. So you tell me, where do we go from here?”

“I work all over the world, Bree. Just because I have to leave doesn’t mean I won’t come back.”

“Really? But when? In another eleven years?” She shook her head and turned away.

His heart pounded out the drum of a dirge. He was going to lose her, and it hurt more than it did the last time. He felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. He spun her around and wrapped his arms around her. He never thought he’d be one to beg. He’d been wrong. “Breezy, please.”

“Why are you doing this, Storm?”

“Because I’ve been away from you for years, and in all that time, I’ve never stopped caring about you, no matter how hard I tried. I care about you because you make me want more, I care about you because you make me feel more, and I care about you because when I’m with you, I am more. All I’m asking for is a chance.”

“A chance for what?”

“Everything. I want a chance to have everything with you.”

“You don’t ask for much, do you?”

“Breezy, with you, I can’t imagine ever not wanting more.”

 * * *

Bree inhaled his scent—sea, soap, Right Guard, and Storm. She sank into the kiss while his words whipped around her like the wind through her hair. He anchored her against him, and she rode the wave of her rioting emotions. It was a good thing Storm was holding her, because if left on her own, she’d probably be kissing the deck.

A horn sounded and he groaned. “The middle of the
harbor is not the place to be doing this. Someone’s gotta sail the damn boat.”

“I guess that’s my cue to leave.” And it was a darn good excuse to get some space and pull herself together. She tried to step away, but his arms tightened around her. He tugged her behind the wheel and pressed his front to her back, sending heat rushing through her that all the wind in the world couldn’t cool.

“Oh no you don’t.” His voice rumbled through his chest and into hers, and his warm breath fanned her ear. “I’m not going to let you go any time soon. Don’t worry. We’ll be back to the marina in no time.” He kicked up the engines, and her pulse increased along with their speed.

“There’s no rush.” Lord knew, she was having a hard enough time coming to grips with what Storm meant when he said everything. She could dissect their conversation for the next year and still have trouble figuring it out. It didn’t help that he held her so close, they were practically shrink-wrapped. There was no hiding her tension or ignoring his erection against her lower back.

“No rush? The hell there’s not. I want to get to the marina where I can focus one hundred percent of my attention on you all night long.”

Storm might as well have zapped her with a stun gun. Everything in Bree’s body perked up. This was so not good.

The trip back to the marina didn’t take nearly long enough. Before she knew it, Storm had the mainsail down, backed the boat into the slip, and tossed ropes to the men on the dock. Storm cut the engine and removed the key.

All Bree heard was water gently lapping against the
side of the boat, a distant clang of metal on metal, and the beat of her heart.

Storm walked past her. “Wait right here. I’m going to grab another bottle of wine.”

“Why?”

“Why not? It’s not as if we’re driving, and I thought we could talk now that we’re done fighting.”

Bree was intoxicated enough just being around Storm; she didn’t need to drink any more, but she couldn’t very well say so.

Luckily he hadn’t waited for a response, disappearing belowdecks and popping back up in no time. He wasn’t gone long enough for her to get her bearings, but the way things were going that could take days, maybe weeks.

Storm handed her a glass of wine and sat beside her on the cushioned bench seat, drawing her close. He clinked his glass to hers. “Your turn. Make a toast.”

She’d prefer wishing on a star—at least then she could keep it to herself. “Here’s to Pete’s health.”

Storm looked disappointed but drank to it. “So, tell me why you got involved in the Revitalization Committee.”

Thank God for safe topics. “My dad.” She looked away from Storm and stared at the lights of the city. “My dad worked so hard to clean up the streets of Red Hook. He always said he did it for me and my mom, but even when I was a little kid, I knew how much he loved the community. He and Pete grew up in Red Hook, and he hated what had happened to his home. He wanted to make it better, and being a good cop was the only way he knew how to do that.”

“So you’re doing this in your dad’s memory?”

She looked at him and thought about it. “Yes, it was
the only way I knew to stay close to him. Does that make sense? It was the reason I got involved, but that’s not the only reason I’ve stayed involved. I got to know the people of Red Hook. I saw how much the committee could help, and I love being a part of something bigger than myself. The committee is making a huge difference in the lives of so many—it’s very gratifying.”

“Your dad would be really proud of all the work you’ve done.” He kissed her temple. “I know Pop is. You really are amazing. You always were.”

“Pete’s easy.”

“Yeah, maybe. After all, he’s proud of me and Slater and Logan too. But you’re his favorite. Plus, after last night, you and I both know I’m not easy, and you’ve impressed the hell out of me.”

She leaned into Storm and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, that means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.” He really did, a fact that scared her but excited her at the same time. She reined in her emotions; it was safer to stay on topic. “I’ll be happy if we can get the Harbor Pier Project off the ground. It would make a huge difference, bring in new businesses, jobs, a park. It will make that section of the waterfront a real destination. It’s going to be great, provided I can get the zoning board to go along with the change.”

“I’m sure you will.”

She sank deeper into the cushion, letting the rocking of the boat and the wine lull her. “I hope so. I’ve worked for three months on the proposal. It’s about as good as it’s gonna get.”

“I have all the confidence in the world in you.”

“What about you? What are you passionate about?”

“Other than you?”

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of wine. “Other than me.”

“My business, and a few years ago I started designing Class 40 racing yachts. It’s a real challenge, and I’m having a good time with it. I have a few contracts, and I’m hoping to expand. Other than that, all I can think about is you.”

Bree wasn’t sure if it was Storm’s kiss, or the way he looked at her as if she were the most precious thing on earth. Maybe it was the way he held her, his heartbeat racing under her palm, or the romantic setting, but it was getting easier and easier to ignore that little voice in her head telling her it was definitely time to cut and run. She put her empty wineglass down on the table and stood.

“I’ll just go down and get my bag. Did you call the driver?” Maybe things would be clearer once she got back on dry land.

Storm followed her below. “I did. He’ll be here first thing in the morning.”

“What?” She spun around, clutching her purse, and ran right into Storm’s chest. “I can’t stay here with you.”

“Sure you can.” He drew her into his arms, ran his hands down her back, and nuzzled her neck. “I’ve got it covered. Rocki’s babysitting; she’ll call if there’s a problem.” His kiss was soft, almost pleading, and so mind-meltingly hypnotic, she couldn’t think. All she could do was feel his fingers sliding over her backside, pressing her against him, his breath flowing into her lungs and filling her with wonder, his tongue teasing, tempting, tormenting. She reached up, encircling his neck, and her feet left the floor. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist.

“God, Breezy, you feel so good.” Storm shifted his
hands, lifting her until his erection nestled between her thighs, and then it was her turn to groan.

Bree opened her eyes and stared into his. She saw so much—lust, hope, fear, and something more. Something she couldn’t label, but whatever it was, it attracted her like nothing she’d ever seen. Storm might as well have been at the helm again—he was strong, certain, driven. His mouth was sure on hers, demanding, overpowering her senses as he carried her out of her safe, stifling existence and threw her right into the center of something so wonderful, terrifying, and all-consuming, she could do nothing but hold on. Her heart battered against her ribs, and nerve endings she didn’t even realize she had came to life.

Storm slid her down his long, hard body until her toes curled into the plush carpet. She opened her eyes, surprised to be in the main stateroom. “What are we doing here?”

“Breezy, if I have to tell you”—he undid the tie at her waist—“I’m definitely losing my touch.”

“I think your touch is working just fine.”

Storm slipped the top button on her bodice through its hole, his knuckles sliding between her breasts and stealing her breath.

“I thought you didn’t want me.”

He closed his eyes as if in pain before resting his forehead against hers. “I didn’t want to be your temporary boy toy, but I want you more than I want my next breath. God help me, I always have.” He opened his eyes, looking straight into hers as he slowly slid the short skirt up her legs, his fingers brushing her thighs. “Let me love you, Breezy.”

God, that was what she’d wanted for most of her life. His fingers slid across her panties, and her hips jerked. “You don’t play fair.” How could she resist him when he looked at her like that? One look at his heat-infused blue-green eyes and she was toast.

“All’s fair in love and war, and with us, it’s both. It probably always will be. I think it’s a redhead thing.”

She started to say something, but his fingers slipped under the elastic of her panties.

 * * *

Storm watched Bree’s face high with color, her eyes glazed and hooded, her lips red and swollen from kissing, and her chest rose and fell with short quick bursts. Visions of that night years ago floated through his mind; tonight seemed the same and different. He didn’t know if they were starting anew or finishing what they’d begun. All he knew was that he had to find out if this connection with Bree was real or imagined. He needed to find out if it was as special as he remembered or if it was something he had built up in his mind all these years. He needed to find out if it would free him or keep him tied up in knots forever. He couldn’t think that far ahead; right now, all he could think about was how much she’d changed and how much she’d stayed the same.

His lips traveled over her neck, zeroing in on the throbbing pulse point and nipping. He skimmed her skirt up to her waist and speared his leg between hers.

Her head fell back in invitation. He slid the dress up and over her head, tossing it on the couch behind him. She stood before him in an emerald green bra and panties.

“What’s wrong with this picture?”

“Not a damn thing.” Storm couldn’t take his eyes off
her. She wasn’t the same girl he dreamed about; she’d matured, and somehow she’d become even more perfect.

“Wrong.” She slid her hands up his chest. “You have way too many clothes on.” She unbuttoned his shirt but got sidelined when she kissed his neck, nipping his earlobe, sliding her tongue over his collarbone, and reaching down to run a hand over his bulge. If she didn’t hurry, there’d be no reason to take his clothes off.

“The hell with it.” He tugged his shirt from his pants, pulled it over his head, and sucked in a breath when she yanked on his belt. Finally.

Bree had no problem getting his pants down in record time, and the moment she slipped her hand in his BVDs, he almost lost it.

Nerves sparred with excitement, and memories collided with reality. A decade of wanting, waiting, wondering, and now they were either going to be amazed or disappointed. He didn’t know which he wanted. Disappointment would be a real letdown, but that would end it. If they were as amazing as he thought they were going to be, it would seriously complicate his life.

His hands shook as they skimmed her sides, relieving her of her thong. Bree stared into his eyes, and it was like déjà vu. He slid her bra straps off her shoulders and, with a flick of his fingers, unhooked it, letting it fall along with his uncertainty, sailing straight into a category-six typhoon named Bree.

Breezy seemed as tentative as she was before, but then what did he expect? He had been down this road twice, only for it to end in disaster.

She looked her fill and then licked her lips. He groaned, and those lips spread into a seriously sexy, seductive smile. “You want me?” She pressed her palm
over the sensitive head of his dick; he sucked in a lungful of air and then let it hiss between clenched teeth.

“God, yes.” He grabbed her around the waist and laid her on the bed. “What do you want, Bree?”

“You.” It sounded as if she forced the word out. She swallowed hard. “Naked. On the bed. Now.”

Shit yeah, he had no problem with that. He ripped off the rest of his clothes, tossed a handful of condoms on the bedside table, and slid over her, feeling as if he were coming back to a home he’d never known but had always dreamed of. He eased onto her, letting her take his weight, seeing how they’d fit, his hands molding her breasts as his mouth ate hers, taking her breath, her taste, her scent, familiar and yet new—just like Breezy. The girl she once was and the woman she was now melded into one in his arms, in his mind, in his heart.

Fear slammed into him. She raised her hips to his and opened her eyes; he saw his fear reflected in hers.

He closed his eyes, kissing her and laving at that spot on her neck where her blood thrummed beneath his lips. His heart hammering against hers, he settled between her legs, his erection pressed against her heat. It took every ounce of self-control to keep from moving. One thrust and he’d be home, deep within her. Home, the one place he’d searched for his entire life. Home with Breezy.

Storm ripped the condom package with his teeth and rolled the rubber on. He kissed her as he’d been dreaming of for years, a full-body kiss, his heart pounding beneath her hands, his tongue stabbing its way into her mouth, hot, hard, demanding, and she gave it back tenfold. Sinking her claws into his shoulders, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he slid into her heat. God, he didn’t think he’d ever been squeezed so tight.