Chayton's Tempest (13 page)

Someone you want to fuck and she’s tossing up roadblocks? Or

what?”

Maverick narrowed his eyes as he growled low in his

throat.
Tempest is deserving of more respect than that.
“Well, she is

tossing up roadblocks, but it’s more complicated than that.” He

snubbed out his cigarette, not having the desire for it.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Hondo asked.

“We have a history,” he admitted.

“Okay, what type? I’m assuming not the best if there are

obstructions,” Hondo perceived.

“You have no idea. She…she’s…she is the mother of my

child,” Maverick blurted out.

Nine

Tempest sighed as she shifted her position. Yoga was so

calming to her; it was the one time her mind could, and did,

remain blissfully blank. No worries about anything penetrated

her aura. It was nothing but calmness and serenity.

Slowly getting out of the lotus position, she spread her

legs wide and placed her body out flat on the ground, turning

her face to the right. Her dark eyes remained closed as she

continued her regulated breathing. Nice and slow. In. out. In.

out. Deep, fulfilling breaths.

As she finished up with her morning routine, she

reluctantly opened her eyes. This was the part she liked the

least; opening her eyes meant the session was done and it was

time to face the rest of the day.

For a quick moment, she just sat cross-legged on the

yoga mat and looked around her backyard. It was a desert yard

for sure, not much green, and she had an irrigation system put

in so certain plants and trees were watered on specific days.

There would be no wasted water in her backyard. There were

apple, pear, and plum trees, as well as some roses and quite a

few cacti like in the front yard.

She looked overhead and smiled at the portcullis that

covered her back porch area. It had a place where she could

have an outdoor fire on cooler nights, or for parties; and vines

covered the thick pillars that held up the portcullis.

“I love my house,” she whispered as she pushed her

body up from the mat. Bending over at the waist, she rolled up

the mat and shook her head as a lone wolf whistle broke the

peace of the morning.

Looking over her shoulder, Tempest smiled as she saw

her son leaning in the open doorway to the house. “You need

to hush with that kind of talk,
young’un
.”

 
“Hey, I can’t help it if my mama’s one hot woman. You

know it’s not fair to the other moms on the block.” Dakota

shoved away from the door and strode over to where his

mother was stashing her yoga mat and handed her the cup of

tea he had in his hand.

“You hush, young man.” Tempest stood up and

accepted the cup. “Thank you for the tea.”

“I was up early since I have to get to campus and hand

over my paper. Saw you out here doing your yoga thing and

figured you could use it.” He leaned down and kissed her on

the cheek. “Love you.” Then his tall frame disappeared back

inside the house. Moments later, she heard his car start and

drive away.

Tempest sank onto a lounge chair and sipped the

peppermint tea. Her son was such a sweetheart. The drink was

perfect and before long, she found her mind was swinging

towards the man she’d gone out on a date with the previous

day.

James
Chayton
Lonetree
, better known as Maverick and

the father of her child.

Setting her drink beside her, she whispered, “I just wish

I knew what you were up to, James.”

“I’m not up to anything except learning about you and

our son, Tempest.” Maverick’s sensual voice was low as it

crossed her backyard.

Her dark eyes flew wide as she tried not to scream.

Leaning against one of the pillars was none other than the man

she’d just been thinking about. The early morning sun gleamed

off his jet black hair, showing her the blue highlights in it.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

His black eyes moved possessively over her lounging

body before he spoke in an unhurried motion. “I came to see

you.” One shoulder lifted laconically as if to say,
duh, isn’t it

obvious?

She allowed herself a moment of observation. He wore a

pair of black jeans that molded to his firm thighs. A stark white

tee shirt offset the glow of his skin. And on his feet were those

heavy black boots.

Maverick kept his gaze upon her face as she stared at

him. He watched her eyes move slowly down and back up his

body. It was a struggle to remain motionless as she did so. He

felt his body respond to her look.

“Why exactly did you come to see me?” she asked,

grateful her voice was steady.
He looks too damn good for his and

my own sakes.

“I don’t know,” he admitted truthfully. “I left my hotel

and ended up here.”

“How long have you been here?” Tempest closed her

eyes to try and regain control of the emotions this man stirred

within her.

“Since before you began doing your yoga, which was so

lovely to watch.”

A whole new wave of trembling found a home in her

body as an image of him watching her with a lust-filled gaze

shimmered into her subconscious. “And the reason you didn’t

let me know you were here…was why?” It was a brave

Tempest that opened her eyes and met the black velvet gaze of

the man who had materialized even closer to her reclining

form.

“I didn’t want to disturb you. And I had a lovely view of

you doing yoga, didn’t want to lose out on the opportunity to

watch that.” He stared down at the temptress

Tempest curled her feet under her body as she sat on the

lounge chair. Taking a deep breath, she allowed the masculine

scent that seemed to permeate the air around the imposing man

before her fill her senses. “I see,” she mumbled. “And now that

you are here, what is your plan?”

“I want a chance to get to know you. I’ve told you

everything, Tempest. I’m not hiding anything; I have no

hidden agenda. I put all my cards out on the table.” He held

her gaze while he fought down the desire to cover her lush

mouth with his own.

Tempest didn’t even bat an eye or hesitate. “I don’t

believe you. I know you are up to something, James. I told you

I wouldn’t keep my son from talking—”

“Our son, Tempest. He’s
our
son.” Maverick interrupted.

“Don’t forget that.”

Fire blazed to life in her eyes. “Forget? Excuse me, who

in the hell do you think you’re talking to here? I was the one

who went to your house to tell you about the pregnancy. Me.

I’ve never forgotten who the father of my son was.” She moved

off the chaise and faced him head on, hands on her hips.

“I say he is mine because I was the one who raised him.

Me! Not you, not your
wonderful
parents, not mine.
Me.
Dakota

is my son. As of right now, you are nothing more than a sperm

donor.” She delivered her words in a low hiss.

Maverick’s black eyes hardened into obsidian the second

the phrase left her mouth. A strong hand callused from years of

rough work clamped down over her upper arm. “I’m not a

goddamn sperm donor. I’m his father,” Maverick growled low

in warning. “I’m his
dad
.”

Jerking away from his touch, Tempest moved to the

door. “A dad isn’t something given to someone just ’cause he

donated his DNA,” she ground out. “To be one is something

earned, and
that, James,
is something you haven’t done.”

Yanking open the door, she stepped inside her house before

glancing back at the man standing there. “Don’t come back

here uninvited again!” Tempest slammed the door shut in his

face.

Maverick took several heaving breaths as he tried to

control his temper. Every single instinct in his body told him to

kick open that door and confront that woman and her ideas.

His heart was in so much pain, he hadn’t realized it would be

so wrenching to hear something like that from her.

Chayton’s
Tempest
85

He moved out of the backyard and climbed on his bike,

driving back to his hotel room. Once there, he lit a cigarette and

smoked it while he leaned on the railing of his balcony.

_

Tempest sat across from Sparky as they sat at an outdoor

diner. The sun bounced off the large umbrella that covered the

table. Sparky wore pressed khaki shorts and a white tee with

sandals. Tempest wore a lilac sundress that complemented her

skin tone beautifully. She had heels on her feet that put her

close in height to the man with whom she was dining.

“It seems to me you still feel something for this man, my

dear.” Sparky took a drink of his tea as he held the skeptical

gaze of his lunch companion.

“I don’t know what I feel anymore, Sparky. I think I still

have crush on him from when we were kids; but at the same

time, I’m so angry he wasn’t there for any of what I went

through.” Tempest stabbed her salad as if she were battling

back bad memories.

“Well, it’s obvious to me there are some feelings

between the two of you. Anyone can tell that. I don’t

understand why you are trying to ignore them, however; it is

clear you want him.” He leaned across the table and tucked a

strand of her hair back behind her ear.

“I don’t
want
him, Sparky,” Tempest insisted.

One brown brow arched as he shook his head at her.

“Who are you trying to lie to here, me…or yourself?”

“I’m not lying to either of us. I don’t want him,” she

maintained.

“If you feel the need to deny it to yourself, than that’s

fine; but do me a favor, honey. We both know I know you well

enough. In the past eighteen years, I’ve seen all types of

reactions from you; but this man is garnering one from you that

my senses tell me is much more than you are willing to let

onto. But keep on pretending I don’t know your emotions.” He

rolled his eyes dramatically and ate a French fry.

“Stop being such a damn drama queen,” she complained

as she reached for one of his hot fries. “Okay, I admit it. I want

him.” Those three words were such a relief to her subconscious

it was amazing.

Sparky sent her a look that said,
No duh!

“I mean, did you see all the muscles in his body? He

looked good younger, but he’s definitely grown up and in all

the right places. I tremble just when his hand is on the small of

my back.”

Swirling his tea around in his glass, Sparky studied his

friend. “But at the same time, the pain and suffering you went