A few hours have passed as we ate dinner and showered before saying our good-nights.

Antonio’s retired to the couch and I have retired to his bed.

Storms.

My worst nightmare.

Lightning flashes across the sky and seconds later the roar of the thunder makes my skin crawl.

Ashamed of being frightened, I lie here still, aside from my heartbeat that reverberates throughout my entire being.

Go get Antonio. He’ll keep you company. He knows thunderstorms scare you, remember?

Only, I’m too afraid to move. What if he laughs at me? Sends me back in here? I’d much rather hide under the covers all alone than be turned away.

Boom.

Another roar of thunder.

I can hear the howling cry of the wind whip past the window as if it’s running, trying to seek its own shelter from the blooming storm.

And lightning again. This time, three flashes at once.

Crash!

I leap up out of the bed and race for the door that separates Antonio and me.

Fuck!

I’m naked. Ugh.

I’ve gotta consider a nightgown or even a plain T-shirt from now on.

I reach for my robe and slip it on, trying to tie it closed as I swing the bedroom door open.

Antonio flies in, his hand on the knob, at the same time the door opens. Oops. “Oh. I was just coming to check on you. Are you alright?”

“Oh, …” I stammer, not wanting to admit I’m scared. “And I was coming to ask you—well, it’s the window. I think it may be open a little. I can hear the wind howling.”

He walks over to the window. He’s shirtless and, through the flashes of lightning, I can see the tight form of his body.

Ripped everything.

My breathing intensifies, but I’m no longer sure it’s because of the storm.

He walks away from the window and back over to me as I take shelter against the wall by the door. “The window is closed. Are you sure you’re okay? Would you like me—?”

Boom.

The sound makes me bolt into Antonio’s arms and he instinctively wraps them around me. “Daniella, you don’t have to be afraid. I’m here with you.”

I lean into the plane of his chest and I can hear his heart beating just as fast as my own.

He lifts my chin and I meet his gaze, desire looming in his eyes. “Daniella, I—”

Boom.

I scream, and he leans into me as I back up against the wall again. He runs a smooth fingertip along my face and fans his lips close to mine. “Shh. It’s alright.” He murmurs.

The sensation of him so close sends chills down my spine.

Oh God, I don’t want to want him.

But I do.

I can feel the loose tie of my robe come undone, exposing my nakedness.

The flashes of lightning darting through the window are like strobe lights, illuminating the skin on my bare body.

Antonio’s eyes gleam and he leans even closer into me and whispers, “Why. Are. You. Naked?”

I breathe in quicker breaths. “I sleep naked, remember?” I manage to whisper back.

His breathing quickens too as he gives my exposed body a meaningful once-over. “Damn it, Daniella, you’re fucking beautiful. And I must add,” he says as his lips graze over my exposed collar bone, “sleeping naked could be rather convenient.”

“Not really. Not when there’s a fire.” My voice cracks as I try to conceal my nervousness.

His hand makes its way to my breasts and he cups one, running circles around my nipple with his thumb. “True. But it’s certainly convenient for the man lucky enough to share a bed with you.”

“Right. Only, I’ve sworn off men,” I quip, feeling a flirtatious smirk formulate.

“Pity…How will you find pleasure?” His voice is deep and low, and, through the flashing bolts, I see his chest rise up and down as he continues to breathe faster.

“Perhaps I’ll pleasure myself.”

He grabs a hold of my hips, pulling me in, closer to him. “Fuck, that’s hot. Can I watch?” he says, his lips close enough for me to almost taste them.

God, I want to taste them.

“That’s the second F-bomb you’ve dropped. Who’s the Potty Mouth now, Mr. Michaels?”

He lifts me up, grabbing a hold of my exposed bottom, and I wrap my legs around his waist, sinking my nails into his back. He pushes closer into me, and I can feel the length of his manhood trying to escape the confines of his silk pajama pants.

“What can I say, you must bring out the bad boy in me.”

He stares into my eyes, then traces my lips with his tongue, teasing my mouth as my lips part on their own, begging for his tongue to play tango with mine.

The storm outside magnifies, mimicking what is building between us, and when he finally kisses me, I melt into him, internally begging for more. I’m hot all over, every inch of me soaring with need.

He abruptly pulls his lips away. “Daniella, I want you so bad. More than anyone I’ve ever wanted before. Please, baby, let me make love to you.”

Oh. My. God. So much for swearing off men.

“I’ve wanted you since that kiss we shared at the ball.” I confess, almost breathless now.

He carries me over to the bed, the two of us falling into it, and I help him out of his pants, eagerly waiting to expose his pleasure tool.

I need him—this time for real.

No champagne-induced dream. No fantasy.

I welcome him in, between my thighs; they are shaky in anticipation of what’s in store. He drops soft kisses along my belly, up to my breasts, causing me to arch into him. His lips meet mine and, together, our mouths impersonate the same dance of our lower bodies as we grind into each other, preparing for what we both want but are savoring until just the right simmering moment.

As he eases into me, thunder rumbles over us—the storm intensifying just as our lovemaking does.

The faster and more intense we are, the louder the thunder seems to roar.

Faster. Louder. Harder.

Shit, he’s so fucking good.

And when Antonio and I collectively explode in ecstasy, the rain outside finally falls.

* * *

The storm is quiet now as Antonio and I lie flesh-to-flesh, still kissing, nothing but longing passion between us.

It’s the first time I’ve ever been unfazed by an angry storm. The first time anyone has cared enough to comfort and hold me.

My eyes are wet, slightly welled with tears—not because I’m sad. Tears of elation because, for the first time, my heart feels alive.

Antonio’s lips move from mine over to my earlobe that he softly nibbles on as he caresses my breast with one hand and rubs my thigh with his other.

His touch keeps my heart racing.

Soothing. Caring. Affectionate.

He breathes softly in my ear and says, “Daniella, baby, I love you.”