Page 154 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two

So, when I look at Shae and find her completely asleep while we’re still connected, a satisfied smile on her face, I stay right where I am and breathe.

THIRTY-FOUR

SHAE

Idon’t open my eyes because there’s a hell of a lot happening right now.

One, it has to be past seven a.m. if the angle of sunlight coming through the windows and hitting my closed eyelids is an appropriate indication.

Two, I’m not in my bed. The surface beneath me is too lumpy to be anything but a body, and I’m going to have to say words to the owner of said body once it’s discovered that I’m awake.

Three, my position has Storm’s stiff dick right against my pussy lips, and I cradle the organ with my lady bits like we’re holding hands—but with our privates.

I can’t move. I want to move. To be completely honest, I want to ride him, but there are so many more things that need to come first.

I lift off his chest, but Storm’s arms band around my back like a vice.

“Just a minute more,” he murmurs, his lips pressing into my hair.

Well, if that don’t have me wanting to weep.

I don’t move again for a full sixty seconds, expecting his dick to deflate, but of course it doesn’t.

This is dangerous.

“Storm,” I whisper, and I don’t have to say any more. His arms fall away, and I slide off his lap, pulling the tangled sheets up to hide my breasts.

In the golden morning sun, Storm looks magnificent. He slings his arm above his head while the other disappears beneath the sheet. My mouth goes dry as the rays hit his eyes just right to make his irises appear like jade and amber.

We sit in silence, but it’s Storm who breaks it. With a big breath, he says, “Do you regret last night?”

I can tell he’s trying to be casual about everything, but I know him. The way his shoulders tense and his eyebrow quirks signals his discomfort.

I don’t need to think about my response.

“No. Not at all,” I say, trying to smile. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not scared.”

There. That’s a very adult response.

Storm’s muscles seem to unclench at my reply, but his expression turns serious.

“What are you scared of?”

I pull my legs up and regret the action when all my pelvic floor muscles scream at me. Settling into a crossed-leg position, I ignore Storm’s slight knowing grin and look down at my lap to collect my thoughts.

“I’m scared of losing myself again. When we first started dating, I was so immature. I look back at that time and, God, I have no idea how you were so patient with me for so long.”

“I knew you were worth it, even if I turned out to be an idiot,” he replies slowly, his hand landing on my knee, almost as if he can’t stand being apart from me.

“I get that, and when things started to get messy, I found myself seeking you out to settle my emotions. It was like, if you were okay, I could be okay.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” he asks, his brows creasing.

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” I finally say, throwing my hands up. “All I know is that when we broke up, I was practically physically sick from the separation. I would have these moments of stability, where I’d be able to lift my head and hype myself up to face another day. But then, at other times, I’d be so depressed my mom was worried I might hurt myself. I was spiraling with no one to catch me.”

His jaw twitches as he grinds his teeth, but I don’t rush to comfort him or make the words prettier. The past is the past, just as the truth is the truth.

“So, I’m scared. I’m scared to be vulnerable with you and to trust you. I’m afraid that if I go down this path with you, I’ll turn into someone I’ll hate—I’ll lose sight of who I am. I’m scared that starting back up with you means driving myself crazy looking for signs or second-guessing your every word. I’m a mom. Tempest and Raiden need me to be whole and healthy, and yet, Ifeelthis could be….”