Page 47 of Hard Rain Coming

Dallas sat back and stared up at a goddess put on this earth to fuck with him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said slowly, pushing her backward until the sofa blocked their way. She leaned against it, and he spread her legs apart. “You still tired?” he asked roughly, eyes on the prize before him.

“No,” Vivian said softly.

Dallas glanced up at her and grinned. “That’s good, Duchess.” He held her hips in place, then bent forward to taste her. To devour her. To drive her over the edge.

The only problem was, he was along for the ride, and if he’d been thinking straight, he might have realized that following Vivian over the edge wasn’t the smart thing to do.

For a smart man, this could be a problem.

Chapter Fifteen

Vivian woke with a start. It was dark, hard to see. She blinked away sleep and took stock of her surroundings. Scrubbing at her eyes, she glanced around the room, confused because this wasn’t her bedroom. There were no floor-to-ceiling windows or sleek modern furniture. The orca sculpture she’d spent too much money on was nowhere in sight.

She raised herself onto her elbows and glanced to her left.

There was a slumbering man beside her. Her heart squeezed so tight, she could barely catch her breath. Like a memory wheel, the previous night rolled across her mind. Dallas on his knees between her legs, his mouth and fingers relentless. How many orgasms had he pulled from her?

And that was before he’d buried himself inside her and took her to all the places women dream about. Three times. God, he’d been relentless, and she’d been one thousand percent satiated. Vivian blushed and carefully pulled back the covers so that she could slip out of bed. Once she was at a safe distance (because, good Lord, she didn’t trust herself around him) she turned back. Her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, and on the table to her right, the old digital clock glowed green, the time just past three a.m.

Lily was bunched up in a ball at the end of the bed, sound asleep, and Dallas was on his back, his arm flung across his forehead, all that glorious hair a mess on the pillow. He’d gotten a few more tattoos than back in the day, and they only served to enhance his beauty—and give him an edge he so didn’t need.

He was incredibly masculine and rugged and hard, but he was also tender and more than willing to put in the effort it took to make a woman’s body sing. He was that rare breed: hard and soft. An alpha male with a heart.

And God, she’d missed him.

Naked, Vivian shivered in the cold and tiptoed over to the chair where she’d flung her robe the previous morning. She slipped it over her shoulders and quietly made her way downstairs.

Outside, the wind whistled, sharp against the glass panes, which shook from the force. She peered through the large window in the living room and was shocked at the amount of snow and, shit, she got closer and squinted…ice. The pellets hit the glass like small bullets, the pings loud in the early morning quiet.

Where the hell had this storm come from?

She glanced over to the fireplace and was glad her brother had thought to stock up on firewood. She’d noticed a generator the first night she’d stayed here, but that was generally for appliances and lighting. If the power went, the only heat source would be fire.

She crept over to the sofa and sank back into the soft cushions, grabbing up a blanket as she did so. There was something about storms she loved. Some thing that called to the wild part of her. Her favorite was good old thunder, lightning, and rain. But this would do.

The sound of the storm lulled her into some kind of stupor, and after a while, her eyes closed. She dreamt of things longs forgotten. Of summer nights by the river up at Founder’s Cabin. Of moments stolen in the barn with a boy who would grow into an unforgettable man. Of a barbecue with food, family, music, and her mother. When she woke again, her cheeks were wet with tears, and the one man she hated being vulnerable in front of sat on the sofa a few inches from her, his face in shadow.

“Hey,” Dallas said, his voice full of morning gruff.

Vivian sat up straighter and pulled the blanket tighter, a security thing, but it made her feel better. “Hey yourself.” She kept her voice light.

He was in jeans, though they were unzipped, and her eyes traced the thin line of hair down his abdomen to the spot where it disappeared. Her heart had already picked up, the beats coming faster as he moved a bit, allowing her to see him properly.

What was it about eyes that shot feelings straight into a person’s soul?

“You were dreaming.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

Vivian nodded. “I guess.” She sounded small and glanced away, noting that it was now lighter outside. The wind still whistled, the snow still fell, and she turned back to Dallas.

“Looks bad out there.”

He nodded and frowned. “It’s supposed to get worse.”

“I had no idea.” This was good. Polite morning conversation. She could do this. Act like she hadn’t been a sex-starved maniac the night before.

“I knew something was coming. But none of us thought it would be this bad.” He got to his feet and stretched. “I need to head out.”