Chayton's Tempest (23 page)

her head to allow for maximum coolness. Reaching out, she

knocked twice swiftly and sharply.

The door swung open and Tempest couldn’t help the

sharp breath she took as the magnificent form of James

Lonetree
filled her sight. The man was just too fine for his own

good.

He had on a white, button-down shirt, which was open.

She ogled his bared, hairless, and bronzed marbled chest. A

pair of those sinfully tight black jeans cuddled his lower half

just so perfectly.

The way his hair hung about his face brought out the

depths of his black eyes. And right then, those eyes were

focused on her. “
Aho
,
” he uttered while he swung the door

open wider to allow her entrance.

Tempest shoved past his hard, lean body, determined

not to let him affect her. “If that means, hello, then hello back.”

Reaching the middle of his hotel room, she turned back and

glared at the man who had shut the door behind her and was

leaning nonchalantly against it.

“It does,” he conceded as he remained relaxed against

the door. His eyes perused over her form as she stood in his

hotel room. She wore a dark-purple spaghetti-strapped tank

top, white
capris
and white sandals on her feet. A dark-purple

ribbon secured the knot of hair on top of her head.

“I can’t accept this,” she blurted out as her hand waved

the cashier’s check in the air. “I
won’t
accept it.”

Crossing strong arms over his chest, Maverick bit back

his initial response of running over to her. “You will,” he stated

calmly.

Her eyes grew large with disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m

standing here having an argument with you. I’m not taking

this, end of discussion.”

With a seamlessly effortless motion, Maverick pushed

off from the door and flowed towards her. His eyes grabbed

onto and held hers tight as he grew closer and closer. Each step

made with pure, jungle-cat ease.

His large presence dwarfed her and she moved

backward until she could go no further because of the wall

behind her. Maverick spread his legs shoulder-width apart and

watched her, chiseled arms still crossed before him.

Tempest held out the slip of paper between them, almost

like a buffer. He ignored it and just stared at her. “Would you

take this?” Her words were sharp and a bit breathless.

“No,” he said as he shook his head.

“Fine! I’ll just leave it on the table.” A solidly structured

bronze arm stopped her.

“No, I don’t think you will. That’s for you.” He shifted,

placing his other arm on the other side of her. Maverick

lowered his face closer to hers. “But you were right about one

thing.”

He saw her swallow hard, as if to regain control of her

body’s response to him, Tempest managed to ask, “What was

that?”

“That it was pointless to stand here and argue about the

money.” His ebony eyes caressed her face. “Especially when

there is something much more exciting I want to do with this

luscious vixen who happens to grace my room.”

Even as tremors rocketed through her body at his words,

Tempest was determined not to give in. “I didn’t come here for

a roll in the sack, James,” she ground out.

“Plans can change,” he taunted.

 
“Not mine.” She pushed against his chest, fighting the

temptation to allow her fingers to dance all over his smooth

chest. “Do you mind moving?”

“
Icamna
sapa
, I’ll move all day and night with you.

Especially if I’m inside you.”

Tempest licked her lips and tried to ignore the dampness

that flooded her body. “Would you stop?” she asked.

Lowering his face even closer, he whispered, “Stop

what?”

“Speaking to me in words I can’t understand.” Tempest

seemed to have forgotten that her hands were plastered against

his rock-hard pectorals.

“Did you want me to translate?” His voice dropped

lower as he moved his head to the side of her neck, inhaling the

scents that made up Tempest. “Or do you just have an aversion

to my native tongue?”

“Don’t be absurd, James, I don’t have a problem with

your tongue.” Tempest’s eyes widened as she realized what

she said.

His lips moved along the soft skin of her neck. “And my

tongue is thrilled to know that. Believe me.” Maverick shifted

his body and diminished the distance between them even

more. “Why does it bother you?”

Tilting her head to the side, to allow his firm lips better

access to her neck, Tempest shivered. “I don’t like not knowing

what people are calling me.”

One hand untied the ribbon holding her hair up and

Maverick groaned as her hair cascaded down over his skin.

Drawing back, he put one hand on each side of her face. “Baby,

nothing bad will ever come out of my mouth when I talk to or

about you.”

Tempest whimpered as his lips caressed her forehead. “I

have to go.”

“Why are you running from me,
mitawin
?”

“What does that mean?”

 
“I’ll tell you when you’re really ready to know.” Each

word he spoke sent twice the shivers down her spine. The feel

of his lips on her skin combined with the rich sexy tone of his

voice was very nearly her undoing.

“I’m ready to know,” Tempest tried to insist.

His chuckle reverberated through her body. “Not yet,

but soon.” He nibbled his was across her forehead and down

the side of her face, stopping once he reached the hollow of her

throat. Maverick swiped his tongue into the small crevice and

reveled in her body’s response.

Cursing herself eight ways to Sunday, Tempest shoved

once again on the chest she seemed unable to stop touching.

“I’m not doing this with you. You want sex, find someone else

to get it from.”

Maverick allowed the distance between them. He

wanted her, that was no secret; and he wasn’t stupid—he was

well aware she wanted him too. But if she were going to ignore

those feelings, there was no way in hell he was going to coerce

her.

When next they made love, they would both be willing

and with no hesitations.
Not to mention a bed.
Maverick berated

himself. He’d slept with her twice and neither time had been in

a bed. First time was outside and the second was in a basement.

“I don’t want anyone else, Tempest. So if you aren’t

ready, then fine. I’ll wait.” Maverick stepped back so her hands

fell away from his body. If she kept touching him, his word

was going to go right out the window.

Determined to ignore the effect of those words, Tempest

shrugged it off. Bending down, she picked up the paper that

had fallen from her fingers at some point and held it back out

to him.

Maverick arched a brow and crossed his arms again.

“I’m not taking it back,” he said.

Clenching her jaw, she walked over to the table and set

it down. “Well, neither am I.” Refusing to look at him again,

she headed for the door.

 
“Tempest,” his low voice reached her.

“What?” She waited by the door with her hand on the

knob. When he didn’t say anything else she glanced behind

her.

Maverick stood by the sliding door to his balcony. His

powerful body leaned against the wall and he lit a cigarette,

watching her. “Take it with you.” He took a long drag of his

smoke.

Opening her mouth to dispute him again, she shut it as

he walked outside and leaned against the railing, his back to

her. His voice reached her easily. “I’m letting you go because

you are still fighting your attraction to me, and that’s okay. Not

taking the money isn’t. You can go but that money
had better
go

with you. Don’t make me put it into your account for you.”

He felt Tempest glare at his back but he never turned

around until he heard the door to his room open and shut.

Even then, Maverick still remained out on the small balcony

until he finished his cigarette. He knew he should have walked

her down; but for the life of him, he had no idea how much

more hold he had on his control.

Sixteen

Tempest fumed as she drove. “How dare he order me

around like that?!” Her hand smacked the steering wheel and

she cussed. “What the hell am I supposed to do?” Pulling into

a gas station, she mulled things over while she pumped gas.

Her eyes fell upon the passenger seat where the money from

Maverick rested.

As she waited for her receipt to print, an idea came to

her. “Well, if he wants to get rid of his money, who am I to stop

him?” Climbing back into her Envoy, Tempest headed for her

bank.

An hour later she walked out in decent spirits.
Good

decision, Temp.
Her mood entirely better as she drove home, she

had a smile on her face as she pulled into the drive. Entering

her house, she realized it was still empty; Dakota was off

somewhere else, so Tempest moved to the kitchen and began to

bake a cake. She needed it after the afternoon she’d just had.

_

The knock on the door startled Maverick.
I was hoping

you’d come back, Tempest.
Setting down his book, he walked over

to the door and opened it.

“Yes?”

Dakota stood on the other side. “Do you have a

minute?”

“Of course, come on in.” Maverick swung the door open

and gestured for his son to enter.
Good thing you kept your mouth

shut, man.
“What can I do for you?”

“Aren’t you going to ask how I knew where you were

staying?”

The attitude wasn’t lost on Maverick. “Should I?”

Shutting the door behind him, he walked back over to his bed

and sat down on it.

Dakota tried to glare at the man but found it was even

harder than staring down his mother. There was a blankness in

these eyes that scared him. “Maybe you should,” Dakota

snapped, even more irritated now that he had to look away

from his father’s stare.

Leaning back against the wall, Maverick reached for and

lit a cigarette. “Okay. How did you know where I was

staying?”

“You smoke?”

Exhaling, he nodded. “You
plannin
’ on answering the

question you wanted me to ask?” While he was ecstatic he had

a son, Maverick was only going to let one person get away with

being short with him, and that was Dakota’s mother. Not him.

“No.” Dakota sat down in a chair and looked around the