Read Riding the Storm for Free Online Page B

house.
    "I'm
sorry," Remy said hoarsely, and plunged deep inside her.
    "Don't
be," she returned, her voice barely more than a moan. "This is… mmm,
yes, oh, right there…
    The
remaining windows rattled, and the roof creaked and popped like it was going to
peel away like a can lid. Remy increased his pace, grabbed her head in both
hands and forced her to look into his eyes. His eyes that had gone feral and
luminous in the continuous flashes from the storm.
    "Ground
me."
    It
wasn't his voice. It couldn't be. Not unless he was the storm personified,
because he sounded like the thunder. Only more powerful.
    Goose
bumps pebbled her skin. He'd asked her to ground him… ground him in the here
and now? How odd that he'd used an electrical term.
    But
she did what she could. She locked her gaze on his, watched the lightning
reflect in his eyes, watched it emanate from somewhere deeper as well, from
somewhere inside him.
    "That's
it, Remy," she breathed. "Let go. I've got you."
    The
fierce hunger in his eyes intensified, and he slammed hard, fast strokes into
her. Her skin tingled and heat seared her flesh. Tendons strained in Remy's
neck, his jaw clenched, and then he came, this time in silence, his hot semen
burning her from the inside out like a current from a live wire.
    The
relentless pressure that had been building shattered, and shards of pleasure
ripped through her body. The bone-deep orgasm tore her apart, left her panting,
shaking, feeling at once wrung out and energized.
    She
couldn't recall the last time a man had worked her into more than one orgasm in
a night, but she knew for sure that no man had ever done it so well.
    As a
meteorology geek with a passion for severe weather, she'd always harbored a
secret fantasy, one that took her into the heart of a tempest with a man who
was strong enough to stand up to Mother Nature.
    It
had been a safe fantasy, because no one was that crazy.
    Wrong.
Remy was that crazy. Even if the thing with the weather was a hoax or was all
in his imagination, it didn't matter. Because he'd gotten off on the storms,
and oh, man, so had she.
    Remy
Begnaud Sr. looked out Widow Johnson's window at the pouring rain and backdrop
of lightning. Thunder shook the house. Snarling gusts of wind bent trees until
their branches scratched like fingernails across the old tin roof.
    T had
come home.
    Shit
on a stick. He rubbed his jaw, rough after not shaving for two days. His mind
had been elsewhere, on his newest inventions, on Widow Johnson's talent in bed,
on the fact that he might have made a whopper of a mistake by telling that
pretty little meteorologist about T-Remy's association with Mother Nature.
    He'd
done it for T's own good, and he dared anyone to think otherwise. Sure, Haley
had given him a shitload of money for the info, but that had been gravy. The
important thing had been to make sure T got help for his weather problems and a
steady job outside the Navy so he wouldn't ruin his life the way Remy had. That
Haley girl had promised T would get both if what Remy told her was true.
    He
closed his eyes and listened to the rain pelt the glass. It had seemed like
such a good idea, letting her come to Bayou Blonde to study his son. A good
idea until he helped the sweet young thing unload her equipment. All of a
sudden, his blood had run cold and nothing seemed so good anymore. The way
she'd talked, like T was a specimen in a petri dish and not a person, had
filled him with dread and a sense of foreboding.
    If T
found out what he'd done, he wouldn't give a fig why. Remy could lose his son.
Sort of ironic, he supposed, given that he'd gotten his son out of loss in the
first place.
    Raw
pain welled up in his throat as though his twenty-five-year wound had been
reopened. His lovely Fay Lynne, so supportive and trusting when he'd made the
decision to leave the Navy after his first term was up, when she was six months
pregnant and he didn't have a job to support them. If he'd only stayed in the
military, had