A few minutes and short, lazy thrusts later, he opens his eyes and stares down into mine.

“I love you, Evie. I know since we met it’s been like a crazy train on the loose, but I really love you.” He takes a deep breath. “Love is something I don’t joke about, you know that. It’s also not something I thought I’d have. You’re a surprise to me.”

“Storm...” My throat tightens with emotion. The sincerity of his words shakes me. I’ve been slowly falling for him since the first day, fighting it with everything I have—afraid he will hurt me, afraid I might hurt him.

“I love you, too. It scares me to death, but I do.”

“Then we will be scared together.” He kisses me softly. “I want a partner, Evie. A best friend. I think we’ve got that. I mean, I want to fuck you silly, but at the end of the day, what I really want is someone to come home to that’s just gonna sit with me and hold my hand and love me for me, and let me love them.”

“I want that too, Storm. So much.”

“So... we should give it a try.” He grins and raises his eyebrow at me.

I rub my foot up and down his calf. “I don’t know how to do this.”

He brushes the backs of his fingers across my cheek and contemplates me for a moment. “Evie, I don’t know how to do this either. I haven’t been in a relationship since I was fucking nineteen years old.”

“That really scares me, Storm. What if you can’t stop... with the girls? You’re used to just jumping on anyone, anytime. What if you don’t like being with just me?”

“I can stop. I have stopped. That’s not going to be a problem. I’m not a sex addict, Evie. And ya know what? Half that shit you read about me online isn’t even true. Just because I was with a model or a porn star at some party, doesn’t mean I had sex with her. I told you when we first met that I have a few female friends who I would have sex with on occasion. That’s it. Even I have some standards.”

I sit up. “Storm, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. All the pictures online...”

“It’s okay, I know.” He pulls me closer to him and wraps my legs around him. “I’m going to be honest with you. What I want, what I fantasize about with you... is you being my sweet angel during the day and my whore at night. I want you to always want me. I don’t want you to ever push me away or say no to me. I want to buy you sexy lingerie, and slowly take it off you. If I want to drag you into a back room at a concert and ask you to blow me, I want you to want it. And not because I’m in a fucking band, but because you want me. But on top of all that, I don’t want it to just be sex. I want the trust and the love that’s supposed to come with all that. That’s my fantasy, and it started when I met you. Could I live without that? Of course. Will I love you no matter what? Yes. No doubt. I would never cheat on you, no matter what. Maybe you think I’m a sicko now. If so, then I’ll deal with it. But that’s what I want.”

I stare at him for a long time, trying to wrap my head around everything that is him. Somewhere in him is a huge fear of rejection, of not being loved or wanted for who he really is. He’s lost in his fame, and I think his first wife did a number on his head and heart when he was too young. I want to heal him and give him everything he wants.

“Yes,” I say simply.

“Yes?” He frowns at me, confused.

I wind my arms around his neck. “Yes, I want that. Yes, I can be that. You can trust me, Storm.”

“I know, Evie. It’s what I love about you so much, I know I can trust you. I know this won’t be easy and it’s new for both of us, but I will try like crazy to make you happy.”

“You don’t have to try. You already do.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

I’m sitting on the couch at the cabin, Halo and Niko at my feet and my laptop propped on my legs, chipping away at Aria’s incoming emails. Her latest book made bestseller in under a week and now a movie deal is in the works for a book she published three years ago. I double-check her calendar before booking more meetings as Gram’s ninetieth birthday party is next month and we are planning a big party for her.

While I have my laptop open, I check Storm’s social media sites and post an update on their next show and links to new band merchandise. Over the past few months, I’ve been working closely with a graphic designer to better brand the band with a new logo and adding new items to their swag. The women’s black fitted tee with rhinestone snowflake has been a huge seller. Storm thought it would be fun to take advantage of our blizzard story, and he was right—the female fans all wanted an Ashes and Embers snowflake shirt.

A few weeks after we went public, a female rock journalist interviewed us, wanting to showcase us as a ‘real couple,’ and specifically focusing on the fact that men can and do, love natural, cute women. Since then, most of the hatred for me on social media flipped to admiration, my own inbox flooding with emails from young girls asking for relationship advice. Kind of ironic. Yes, I still have haters, but I ignore all that now.

I shut down my laptop and head out to the garage, barefoot, to find Storm sitting on the ground with a motorcycle in pieces around him. I grab a bottled water from the garage refrigerator and hand it to him.

“Thanks, baby.” He tilts his head up for a kiss. I smile at him, wipe some grease off his cheek, and give him a long slow kiss.

“How’s it going?” The bike he’s working on is his favorite. It’s painted a glossy jet black with wolves airbrushed over the fenders and tank. It’s beautiful.

He nods his head, sipping his water before replying. “Pretty good. Next weekend we’re going for a ride.”

“I can’t wait.” It’ll be my first ride, and I’m looking forward to it.

“Did you call Vandal? I called him earlier, but he’s not answering his phone. Maybe he’ll talk to you.”

I kneel down next to him. “Yes...we talked for a few minutes. He’s all right, just doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now.”

Storm throws his wrench. “He fucking hates me. All of us.”

I rub his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Storm, you guys did what you had to do. He’s too messed up to be in the band right now, you guys know that. He’s pissed, but he understands. He knows once things settle down and he gets better, he can come back.”

“I’m not sure he’s ever gonna be better, Evie,” he mutters.

“He will. It’s just going to take some time.” I try to sound hopeful, even though I know deep down Vandal may not ever come out of the dark place he’s in.

“All the time in the world can’t fix what he’s going through, baby. He’s done.”

The situation with Vandal is devastating. A month ago, he fell asleep at the wheel while driving late at night, killing his five-year-old daughter, a female friend and a driver in another car. Vandal spiraled into a horrific depression, distancing himself even further from the band—his only family. Sometimes, he’ll talk to me, but not often, and he says very little. Once a week, I stop by his house, bringing him groceries and cleaning up the mess he leaves.

I have a soft spot for Vandal. When I first him, he scared the heck out of me with his dark looks, bad moods, and utter silence. He hardly ever spoke. The first time I stopped at his house after the accident, he was a mess, throwing things, screaming, and swearing. I questioned my sanity for showing up at his home alone. Then he just collapsed in front of me, and I sat on the floor with him and just held him. I never said a word, I just held him. From that moment on, we’ve had a quiet friendship. He doesn’t yell anymore. He eats the food I bring him and thanks me for cleaning his house. It’s the least I can do. Storm loves his cousin and family has to take care of each other.

Storm stands up covered in grease from head to toe, but I lean in to hug him anyway.

“I was thinking we’d go out to dinner tonight,” he says, putting his arms around me.

“I’d love that. Our fur children are getting along great. They were sleeping next to each other when I came out here.”

He kisses me on the nose and grabs my ass. “I knew they would. I think we need to take a shower together before dinner. You’ve been hiding from me too long today. I missed you.”

“I know... Your mom’s emails have been insane.”

We walk into the house together and he leads me straight to the bathroom, pulling our clothes off as soon as we get through the door.

“Get in there and turn the water on, and I want you to lather yourself up with that vanilla soap.”

I do as he says, standing in the glass shower while he leans against the sink, naked, watching me as I spread the thick lather all over my body. He slowly crosses the room, his cock hard and jutting out. He presses me up against the tile wall, running his hands up and down my soapy body, and then lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and slowly sliding inside me.

“You’re still dirty,” I tease.

“I know.” His kisses are playful, starting at my lips, and then moving down to my neck, biting my flesh. “You smell like cookies.”

He places me back on my feet. “I want you to wash me,” he says, his voice laced with soft command.

I take the bath sponge, squirt vanilla body wash on it, and slowly run it all over his body, the suds sliding over his hard muscles. The multiple showerheads spray us from every angle, rinsing the creamy soap off us. We shampoo each other’s hair, and then I drop to my knees and take him into my mouth. He leans back against the tile wall, his hand on my head, gently pulling me to him as I suck him.

He locks his eyes onto mine. They are glazed and half closed as he loses himself in me. Nothing turns me on more than watching him when he’s enjoying what I’m doing to him.

“Mmm… I think I need more.” He pulls me up by my hair and spins me around, pressing my front against the glass door. His lips trail all the way down my spine, while his hands slide down my wet sides, and stop at my hips. He squeezes my ass and gives me a small slap before slowly inching his way into me.