A storm’s rage. A woman’s desire.
A man with the power to set them both free
He can summon lightning at will. Emerge unscathed from the center of a tornado. Strip a woman down to her barest defenses through the sheer force of his sexuality. He’s gorgeous, dangerous, and the target of parameteorologist Haley Holmes’s latest mission. Haley has been dispatched to the Louisiana bayou to investigate the phenomenon known as Remy Begnaud – man with a gift he never wanted: the ability to control a storm’s fury. But even a woman trained in bizarre weather phenomenon has no defense against the electrifying power of the Ex-Navy SEAL…a power his enemies would kill to control.
With her agency monitoring their every move, Haley’s job is to seduce Remy, gain his trust — and help him harness his extraordinary gift. But who will protect her from this voracious lover who’s introducing her to a new world of erotic thrills – a man who grows increasingly insatiable with each new weather event? Haley knows a big storm is approaching –and with it will come unexpected delights. But, so, too, will the storm unleash her greatest fears: An enemy bent on destroying Remy. And her worst fear of all…falling in love with this magnificent man, then having to betray him…
I’m so pleased! Sydney-Larissa (I can’t think of Sydney Croft as Sydney Croft, LOL) sent one of my favorite scenes for this extract!
Haley shook her head and set the bottle down next to her equipment. “You can’t go out there now. Conditions are going downhill–” The laptop beeped, and she tapped the keys. Frowning, she checked an image on a small-screened portable radar. “I don’t understand this,” she muttered. “This cell isn’t part of a hurricane band…it makes no sense. It’s moving over us from the wrong direction. It’s almost as though it formed on top of us.”
There’s a reason for that.
“I’ll be fine, and so will you, as long as you stay inside the house,” Remy said, his voice rough with a mix of desire and fear and bebe, you have no idea what you’re in for…
She didn’t look up. “Stay inside. It’s too dangerous out there – we’ll figure it all out later.”
He knew he should leave, knew what the hot rush of blood throbbing between his legs meant, but he couldn’t take another step any more than he could look away as she nibbled on her bottom lip. Reaching up, he touched his own lip subconsciously, wondering how she’d taste against his mouth.
A printer on the scarred old dining room table spat out a page, which she tore loose and scanned in the greenish glow from her equipment.
“Hurricane Center update.” Dropping the page to the floor, she turned back to the radar image. “This is way more fascinating. Amazing…”
She was talking more to herself now than to him, lost in the weather. She glanced at her watch and then shook her wrist and frowned down at it, and he looked at the ancient clock that had sat on the mantel for as long as he could remember. The arms had frozen at nine-forty P.M. – the exact time he’d walked into the damned house.
A ragged breath shuddered through his chest. His pull was getting stronger and threatening the entire bayou, and Haley would figure some of it out soon. Sweat broke out on his forehead as nerves and muscles stretched. He had to get out of here, because when lightning struck again, it was going to be too late for him to stop himself.
Another flash, too close, and by the time the boom hit seconds later, his body had been taken over by its ruling member.
And while Haley was bent over, staring at the screen, her concentration on the impending storm outside rather than him, his brain fogged. Led by the heat of her body, he dropped his bag and found himself pressed to her, his thighs to her buttocks, his arousal straining to get out and into her.
She gasped when he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her upright into him. He gathered her shirt in his fist and pushed it up, needing to palm her full breasts as much as he needed air. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he heard thunder, and then the sound of electrical equipment popping.
Next, his hands were moving faster than his brain to unbutton her shorts and shimmy them down. A violent tug and then they cleared her hips, and he barely heard her say, “Remy,” before the windows rattled as the storm surged forward against the house.
With a grunt that came out like a howl, he jerked away from her, left her standing there with her shorts halfway down and, with no explanation, and headed outside into the storm that was getting worse instead of better, a fact that no amount of Haley’s research and equipment could ever explain, to get it all over with. Force Mother Nature to push him to his break point and, finally, let himself break.
It had to hurt less than this did.
Now, the ladies are partying up a storm over at Write Minded, so head on over and join the party!