Tornado (18+)

In The Beginning

A few things for the FTR

If you're expecting a slow burn romance, this book is not for you. Feelings & a shared history are already there in this first chapter!

If you are under 18, again this book isn't for you, it's written for adults not children and is clearly marked 18+

This book isn't for you if you don't understand the difference between exploring a subject and promoting it. My stories are works of fiction with real life elements thrown in. If you can't handle that, then I suggest reading something less complex.

And lastly, If you haven't moved on to another book by now, then maybe this is for you after all.
Enjoy!
XOXO

*

I run my tongue along the seam of her lips. When she parts them, I press firmer and force it into her mouth. She tastes like aniseed and cigarettes and smells like sex and sin.

She reciprocates. My lips move against hers and I press myself against the sensual curves of her body. Her hair tickles my nose as I change the angle to deepen the kiss, my hands cupping either side of her neck. My raw need for this girl escalates when naked images of her lying on my bed filter through my hazy brain. Sexy green eyes entice me to kiss along her flawless skin. Raspy murmurs of her voice moan my name as I sink to my knees between toned thighs.

Yes, Paisley Dean has played the starring role of all of my wildest fantasies for several years and as I fight to contain myself from throwing her against the wall and taking her right here in a dark corner of Bleachers, I realize that this moment surpasses everything I've imagined.

I break away from her and stroke her cheek with the back of my knuckles. "Shall we take this someplace else, Paisley?"

Through the emotive lighting above, I see the desire in her eyes deepen, her chest rises and falls like she's struggling for breath. I know she wants me as much as I want her, but I need her to consent before I touch her again.

Her hesitation to answer doesn't go unnoticed and I think she's about to call it a night when she dazzles me with a sultry smile and says, "Game on, Tez."

My body electrifies. Before she can change her mind, I grab her hand and pull her to the exit of the club to seek a cab. I've barely closed the door and given the driver my address when Paisley bunches up her skirt, flashing me a glimpse of purple lace knickers, and straddles my lap.

Her mouth comes down on mine with frenzy. Fingers grasp and pull at anything they find, my hair, my shirt. She bears her hips down against me, the friction makes my cock hard as steel. Like heat-seeking missiles, my hands find her arse cheeks and grind her back and forth against the bulge desperate to be unleashed from the denim of my jeans.

Shit. Is this finally happening?

Paisley traps my bottom lip between her teeth and sucks. It's the sexiest thing ever. I'm on the brink, struggling to keep myself from coming in my pants when a stern voice from the front of the cab breaks our foreplay bubble.

"Not in my cab, thank you very much!"

Paisley lets go of my lip and climbs from my lap, re-covering her modesty with a yank of her skirt. I already feel bereft of her touch and spend the rest of the journey barely able to breathe through the sexual tension hanging between us.

I throw a bunch of notes on the passenger seat of the cab when we stop and help Paisley out to the street. Her eyes flit up the road to the darkened house opposite mine and we pause. "I don't think your dad is anywhere to be seen," I say. "Not this time."