Caught in the Storm by M. Stratton Page B

the cool marble floor was in direct contrast to the heat coming off his body.
    Using his strength, he moved them back onto their makeshift bed and she enjoyed the feeling of being in charge, setting the pace as she straddled him. Her breathing coming faster as his fingers teased her nipples. Leaning down, she took his mouth with hers. She pulled back, but he wouldn’t let go. Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her as they continued to rock with him buried deep inside of her.
    Feeling the orgasm building, she raked her nails down his back not able to control herself. His fingers bit into her ass as his held her close to him. His cock throbbed inside her, wanting its release.
    Running her hands through his hair, she got a handful of it and pulled his head back. Looking into his eyes in the dim light, she knew she’d come home.
    Screaming his name, they toppled over the edge together.

    Kat slowly came awake, feeling a body behind hers. She didn’t even have a second of hesitation; she knew who it was, Jackson. A small smile teased her lips as she remembered why she was naked, pressed against another naked body.
    “Good morning,” he said as he trailed his fingers up her arm.
    “What are you doing up already?”
    “People typically get up in the morning.” He continued to trace patterns across her neck and shoulder.
    “But you were never up first and you’ve never been a morning person.”
    “People change.”
    “Not about being a morning person; you’re either born that way or not. What gives?”
    Jackson shrugged.
    “Tell me. Please.” She turned over so she was on her back looking up into his tired face.
    “I just thought if I stayed up all night, you wouldn’t disappear on me again.
    Kat closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. The pain she’d caused him could never be taken back. She didn’t know how to make it up to him. Maybe if she was there for him and could prove to him that she wasn’t going anywhere this time, maybe time could heal his pain.

    Jeremy sat in the hotel room looking at the costume he had picked out for the night. Somehow he thought the Phantom from Phantom of the Opera was perfect. While the Phantom’s face was disfigured and he hid it from the world, Jeremy felt his soul was disfigured and he hid that from everyone. Plus, he needed to hide his face from the world since the authorities were looking for him.
    Walking over to the dresser, he picked up the invitation he was able to get and tapped it against his mouth. Maybe tonight he’d be able to get his hands on one of those bitches who’d escaped him and changed his luck. Alexia, the one who escaped twice. The whore. He had to get her. He had to kill her. He had to make everything right again. He could feel the desperation building inside him. He didn’t like this and didn’t know what to do. Getting down on his hands and knees, he crawled under the bed, curled into a ball like he used to do when he was young, and hid until the feeling passed.

    She spun around in her pretty light blue gown. She had always loved dressing up, but they never had anything this nice while she was growing up. Crossing to the bed, she looked at her weapons; she knew it was going to be hard to sneak anything into the party tonight, but she had thought ahead and had camouflaged them to look like something a woman would typically have in her purse. They wouldn’t be able to do as much damage as she’d like, but maybe enough to have him worried. She smiled at the thought of making him bleed.
    Looking at herself in the mirror, she wished Mama could see her now. But that bastard had taken her away. He had to pay. She had tried to keep her personal emotions out of this; to just take the facts and let them speak for themselves. But knowing she was this close, she couldn’t keep them buried any longer. She missed her mama so much; things would have been so different if she hadn’t been killed.

    Jeremy walked out of his room and down the hall.