11. Storm
Igrab the first box of condoms from the pharmacy up the road. I’m out of breath and half-naked, but I don’t care. I need her. My angel. Something about her has brought me back from this funk. I hated myself. My life. The women I screwed, I kept going back to them, fucking them and telling them sweet nothings. They believed me, of course, they did, I’m the hottest guy in this town. That’s why I’m labeled. Luke, the boy who gives the ladies a raging storm. I did. I do. I hate that I do. I don’t want her to look at me like some cheater, some slut, or a guy that will never make her happy. I’ll make her happy. I’ll keep my angel happy. I’ll be better for her.
“Busy night?” the cashier asks.
I add a couple of bags of chips and candy bars with the condoms on the counter. “I’ve met my match tonight. She’s perfect.”
“Really? A woman taking you off the market?” He widens his eyes. “I find that hard to believe.”
I place a twenty on the counter and grab two bottles of water and two apple juices. “If you ever meet her, you’ll know why.”
He tries to strike up a conversation, but I’m aching to get back to her. “You hear Frank’s kid is in town?”
“Yeah, yeah. He’s happier than a pig in shit.” I scratch the back of my head quickly, wanting nothing more than to buck it out of here and get back in that horrendously colored room with my beauty.
He laughs, sensing my jitteriness, and places everything in a bag. “Go.”
“Cheers.”
I dart out the door, up the street, charging into the BnB only to be met by someone I see once a week for a release. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“Storm? What’re you doing here?” Desire asks, giving me a once-over. Her cheeks redden at the fact that I’m in my boxers.
“I’m with—” I pause, I can’t very well say Auden, so I shrug and chuckle. “I’m with my girl.”
“Seriously?” she scoffs. “You’re bringing your whores here now? What? Your place isn’t good enough?”
“She deserves so much more than my couch,” I tell her and charge up the stairs. I don’t think Desire likes that very much, she growls softly and stomps her feet.
Auden doesn’t know it but she saved me. She made me realize that maybe life can get better. After twenty-four years, Frank finally got to see his daughter again. A sadness he held with him all this time. Maybe I can move on from my sorrows, too.
I’ll write Denny another letter and try to mend things with him before his release. The last thing Auden needs is another excuse to look away at the thought of us. She says she’s bad news, she has yet to tear down my walls and see my inner demons. Demons which I promise to exorcise before I give her my heart.
Auden doesn’t lock the door, but she’s wearing a pair of underwear when I walk in, the type of underwear you see in those Victoria’s Secret ads. I bite my lip, scanning her. She glances at me, rummaging through her luggage for a top. I drop the bag on the decorative chair and kick off my shoes. She’s not getting dressed, I’ll make sure of that.
I move hair off her shoulder, nibbling it softly and she chuckles. She turns and leans on the dresser in front of her luggage. “You didn’t leave.” She licks her lips.
I scan her breasts, letting a smirk spread to my lips before meeting her eyes. “You didn’t lock the door.”
“I almost did.”
“That means I would’ve had to break it down.”
“You break something you’re paying for it,” she says, tilting her head to the side.
I cup her face, staring at those succulent lips. “I don’t plan on breaking anything in this room.”
She chuckles, her dimple popping out. “And here I thought you were going to break my heart.”
“I’ll break your hip before I do that.”
“Mm, what did you buy at the store?” She pushes off me and opens the bag. “Ooh, I love apple juice.”
She makes me laugh a lot. She has this childish quirk and innocence about her, but such a little devil in the bedroom.
My eyes fall on my trench coat draped on the back of the desk chair. “Is that my trench coat?”
She shrugs, opening the container of juice. “Yes. I was cold when I left this morning. Weather is freaking weird here.”
I sit at the end of the bed and lean back on my elbows, staring at her perfect fucking tits as she chugs from the container of apple juice. A drop escapes her mouth and moves down her chin, rolling down her neck. She wipes it away and offers me some juice, but I don’t move. I’m mesmerized by her.
I have a week to ravish her. A week to convince myself not to fall in love with her. A single fucking week to get lost in those blue eyes.
She tosses the empty container into the trash and climbs onto the bed beside me, leaning on one arm to face me. She’s so stunning, I have to keep a piece of her with me. I lean over and grab my phone, opening the camera app.
She rolls her eyes, thinking I’m going on my phone. I’m not. I’m going to take pictures of her. As many as she’ll let me. I’ll frame them. Post them. Make them part of my memory. “Smile.”
I snap a photo of her and she gasps, lunging at me for my phone. “Gimme that.”
I laugh. “Why?”
She laughs. Her laugh makes me laugh. And now, the two of us are in a fit of laughter. “Because you took a picture of me.”
“I need something to remember you by,” I say, ending a string of giggles.
She pokes my shoulder. “You have the sex to remember me by.”
“I wanna remember your face,” I say, kissing her softly.
She chuckles. “And my tits.”
“Especially your tits.”
She laughs again and I kiss her. Fuck, I kiss her. I hold the camera and capture myself kissing her. I’m not a fan of cutesy photographs like this, and neither was my ex. But with Auden, she’s getting all that cheesy crap.
“Can I have your number?” I move away from her lips, licking the taste of her from them.
She takes my phone and plugs in her digits, sending herself the pictures of us as she does. “Happy?”
“You have no idea.”
She tosses my phone aside and tugs at the waistline of my boxers. Aching for more even though she teases me to leave. Yes, my angel. I’ll make you moan as much as you’ll let me. I’ll make you scream. I’m going to better myself for her and prove that I might be just what she’s looking for. This week I’m going to become a changed man.