His to Claim #5: Breaking Storm (4 page)

The next morning, Storm arranged for room service and they all sat at the dining room table in their boxers, Melanie in a robe, and ate breakfast together. Melanie glanced around at the three handsome men while she sipped her coffee.

Yup. I have a definite addiction to rock musicians.

***

Melanie watched the scenery slip by as the limousine sped along the highway toward the next stop on their tour. The inn had been an hour and a half drive roughly northeast of their route and they would be meeting the bus in a small town on the way to Louisville, Kentucky. Everyone sat quietly, each involved in their own thing. Diego leaned back against the seat listening to music, the cord from his earbuds dangling down his broad chest. Travis tapped away at his phone, probably texting or reading e-mail.

Storm simply stared out the window. Although Diego and Travis seemed quite relaxed, Melanie could sense the tension from Storm.

Did he regret last night? Had seeing her with the other men upset him? He’d seemed to be turned on by the idea originally, but maybe seeing her wantonness as she’d enjoyed the sexual attention of the other men had disgusted him. Maybe in the cold light of day he thought she was a dirty slut.

Her stomach twisted into a knot.

Or maybe … Oh, God, maybe when she’d told him she loved him it had made him feel too pressured. Maybe he’d arranged last night to push her away, hoping she’d want the continued freedom of seeing other men. Then he’d be the good guy by telling her he was fine with her pursuing other men and he would quietly pull away, hoping she wouldn’t notice as she got more involved with Travis, and maybe Diego, too.

But the truth was, no matter how many sexy, virile men wanted her, they could never take Storm’s place. She wanted him. And only him. Last night had been fantastic, but only because she’d shared it with Storm. And because it had turned him on, too.

She gazed at him, wishing he would turn his head and look her way. That he would give her a reassuring smile to set her mind at ease. But he simply kept staring out the window, watching the miles go by.

***

Storm got out of the limo and glanced toward the restaurant where they’d arranged to meet the rest of the band for lunch. He was glad to be out of the car where he could take a deep breath of fresh air. The vehicle, with its air-conditioning and contoured leather seats, had been quite comfortable, but after what the four of them had shared last night, he needed some distance from his friends.

The whole situation with the three of them sharing Melanie last night had been pretty intense. He had enjoyed it—fuck, he’d been so hot he’d thought his cock would explode—but it also left him unsettled.

The whole time they’d been traveling, he couldn’t help thinking about how Travis had dominated Melanie, calling her slave and instructing her to call him Master. Clearly, it had turned her on immensely, and it had him, too, but now … Fuck, why did the women he cared about want a man to sexually control them? First Jessica and now Melanie. And the worst part was that he knew, deep down inside, he wanted it, too.

The limo driver opened the trunk and passed their luggage to the bus driver who stowed it in the storage area.

“Man, I’m starving,” Travis said as he headed toward the restaurant door.

Diego followed him and Melanie glanced at Storm uncertainly. He hadn’t spoken to her the whole trip and he felt a little guilty about that, but he’d had his own thoughts to deal with. He gestured for her to precede him and then once they reached the door, he opened it for her.

Lunch in the small diner was exceptionally good. Simple home-style food with large portions. The guys kidded around and Dan and Jimmy talked about the two women they’d gotten lucky with last night. They kept it marginally clean in deference to Melanie, but she seemed deep in her own thoughts.

Soon they were back on the bus and Storm settled into the seat beside Melanie. She pulled out her pencils and sketchbook and flipped it open to a new page. He watched in amazement as she began to sketch a fantasy creature with wings, a big fluffy tail, and horns. It was dynamic and graceful, with a whimsical appeal. What surprised him the most was the enchanting personality the small creature conveyed. He almost expected it to bound off the page and dance around.

“That’s sensational, Melanie.”

She glanced up at him, startled, as if she’d forgotten he was there, then smiled at him, almost timidly. “Thanks.”

He leaned back in the seat, continuing to gaze at her creation. “You told me about artist trading cards and how you can go to meetings to interact with other artists. Are there other things like that you’re planning to do?”

Her pencil danced over the paper as she continued adding details to the little being on the page. “Well, Diego also told me about an Artist Battle.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?” He stifled a grin as he imagined two people armed with paintbrushes, one lunging forward and the other parrying.

“It sounds fantastic.” She glanced at him, as if checking to see if he was really interested in what she had to say. “Artists have twenty minutes to do a painting. There’s an audience watching the artists as they work, then at the end, they pick a winner and that artist’s painting is auctioned off.”

“Just the winner sells their work?”

Her brow furrowed. “I’m not really sure. Maybe the winner is the one who gets the highest bid.”

Storm couldn’t imagine working under that kind of pressure, but from the glimmer in Melanie’s eyes, he knew it was something she’d like to do. “So when are you going to take part in one?”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready.”

He gazed at her. “Why not? Your work is fantastic, and you just did that incredible drawing in no time.”

She gazed down at her own creation. “Thanks, but the competition is painting and I couldn’t just walk in there and finish a piece in twenty minutes without a lot of practice first.”

“Okay, so what’s stopping you from practicing?”

“Well, I don’t have any paints with me.”

“We can fix that.”

“And it’s cumbersome traveling with an easel. And then there’s the time. You know better than me how hectic it is being on tour.”

“You said you have to finish in twenty minutes. You can plan your project while you’re on the bus, then when we get to the hotel, take some time before the show to do the actual painting. On days we have to start setting up as soon as we arrive, do your painting before you go to sleep.”

She glided the edge of her pencil over the paper, adding more shading. “That will be hard with having to pack up first thing in the morning and all.” She sounded doubtful.

“I’ll help. You paint; I’ll clean up in the morning before you get up.”

She gazed at him, her emerald eyes wide. “You’d do that?”

“Of course.” The fact that she doubted it stung a little.

She nodded. “Okay. Thanks.” She turned back to her drawing and worked a little more.

He watched her a little longer. He didn’t know why she was so subdued today, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it had something to do with last night.

Finally, he settled back in the seat and closed his eyes.

His thoughts turned back to their erotic foursome and how Travis had dominated Melanie.

At least, he had only given her commands. Had her play the sexy, submissive love slave. It had been mild compared to what Jessica had wanted from Dane … and him.

***

Jessica stood before Storm, naked, her gaze cast down.

“Come here, slave,” Storm commanded.

“Yes, Master.”

Jessica stepped toward him and he pulled out his cock.

He flattened his hand on top of her head and pushed her to her knees.

“Suck it.”

Delicately, she wrapped her hands around his cock, then her warm mouth covered him. He trembled with need. He wanted to drive deep into her throat. To fill her with his cock, making her swallow him whole. He drove forward and she gagged, but took him all the same. She sucked and he groaned.

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to her feet, then forced her back against the wall.

He pushed her wrists over her head and crushed his body to hers.

“I’m going to fuck you, slave. Deep and hard until you scream. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

He nipped her earlobe and she yipped. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, Master,” she cried with such need he almost came on the spot. He pressed his cockhead to her slick opening.

“Storm.”

“Call me Master,” he gritted out, slamming himself into her so hard the walls seemed to shake.

“Storm.”

His body jostled and his cock ached.

“Storm, we’re here.” Melanie’s hand was on his shoulder as she shook him gently.

The dream images dissipated and his eyes opened. Ah, fuck. It may have been a dream, but his aching erection was very much a reality.

He shifted in the seat and willed his erection to settle down.

He hated the forceful way he’d taken her in the dream. It was okay when Travis took control over Melanie, but it wasn’t what Storm wanted because he didn’t trust himself not to take it too far. Like in the dream, where he’d taken Jessica too hard. It just wasn’t right.

What if he tried to dominate Melanie and lost control there, too? What if he hurt her?

He’d never forgive himself.

“What were you dreaming of?” Melanie asked.

He just shook his head and stared out the window, watching the scenery pass by.

She placed her hand on his arm. “Is something wrong?”

At the concern in her voice, he forced a smile. “No, of course not. Everything’s fine.”

He just wished he could believe it himself.

***

After the show, Storm felt drained. Usually he was energized and ready to go. Unwinding was usually difficult because adrenaline still pumped through him, but tonight he knew when his head hit the pillow, he’d fall headlong into sleep.

As soon as they got back to the room, he stripped off his clothes, just dropping them on the floor beside the bed and climbed under the sheets. Melanie headed into the bathroom.

But as soon as his head hit the pillow, thoughts of Melanie lying naked beside him sent his cock swelling. Like pinning her hands over her head and driving his hard cock deep into her, while she gasped his name. Or her refusing, then him dragging her over his knee and smacking her ass until it was red with his handprints.

He rolled onto his side and threw his arm over his face. Fuck, he didn’t want to want these things. The door closed and he felt her pull back the covers and slide into bed beside him. Her warm hand stroked over his naked back, then her delicate lips played along his spine, sending more blood pumping to his already aching erection.

He wanted to roll over and hold her down, overpowering her until she submitted to him completely, then drive into her like a piston, deep and hard again and again.

“Storm, are you asleep?”

Her words had to be meant as an icebreaker because she had to feel the tension in his body.

“No,” he said, his voice slurred by his tiredness, “but soon.”

He did not want to have sex with her in the strange mood he was in. With the primal cravings gripping him right now.

Damn, if he fucked her now, he might give in to those desires.

He might hurt her.

“Oh, I … thought maybe we should talk,” she said.

Fuck, he didn’t want to chance fucking her right now, and he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about last night, which was triggering these disturbing desires.

“Pretty tired,” he muttered.

***

Melanie stared at Storm’s big, naked back, feeling very rejected. He’d barely talked to her in the limo this morning, but then on the bus he’d been so sweet, taking an interest in her art. When he’d fallen asleep on the bus, he’d clearly been dreaming about her, or at least about sex, muttering indistinguishable words in his sleep. But when he’d woken up, he’d seemed distant and cold. Then after they’d checked into the room, he’d muttered something about having to prepare for the show, even though there’d been plenty of time. He’d disappeared from the room, leaving her alone and needy.

Now he’d turned his back on her. As if he couldn’t bear to touch her.

As if she disgusted him.

The next morning, when she woke up, Storm was gone. When she went down to breakfast, no one had seen him. She kept glancing at her watch as she ate breakfast with the others, then when she went up to pack, his bag wasn’t in the room. Maybe he’d taken it to reception when he’d left the room earlier.

She dropped her bag with the others by the bus and glanced around, but there was still no sign of him, and they were scheduled to leave in ten minutes.

“Hey, Melanie, where’s Storm?”

She turned at the sound of Travis’ voice. “I don’t know. I still haven’t seen him.”

Travis frowned. “His bike is gone.”

Storm had arranged to bring his bike on the trip. He hardly used it—there was rarely enough time—but it usually remained locked in the rack on the back of the bus. She glanced back and it was gone.

“Have you tried him on his cell?” she asked.

“Sure, but if he’s on the road, he won’t hear it.” Travis glanced at his watch. “Shit, we can’t afford to hang around waiting. We’ve got a tight schedule today.” He sighed. “Let’s get on board so we’re ready to go when he shows up.”

Twenty minutes later, he still hadn’t appeared.

“Okay, well, that’s it. We’ve got to get moving,” Travis declared. He signaled to the bus driver and he started up the vehicle and pulled away from the curb.

Melanie’s heart clenched. When she’d worked for him, as Rafe Ranier, he’d prided himself on never being late, and that was one of the characteristics he’d kept as Storm.

There was only one explanation. He’d decided to walk away.

Even so, she couldn’t believe he wouldn’t have told Travis he was leaving the band. He might be angry and disgusted with her, but she was surprised he’d leave the guys hanging.