She had no idea if Storm could harm someone as powerful as Tristan, but her heart did a silly wiggle at his declaration. To distract him from focusing on Tristan, she asked, “You didn’t call Tzader or Quinn?”
“No, but they’ve been looking for me, which I’m betting has to do with everyone hunting Alterants and trying to find you.”
He had that right. Trey’s telepathic thumping had started against her mental shields as soon as she’d landed on this side of the wall.
“Thanks for waiting.” She lifted up and touched her lips to his and smiled at the shock on his face. “I know we talked about this, and I can’t just kiss you whenever—”
He cut off her words with his mouth. His hand went into her hair, which had fallen loose during the battle. Kissing Storm started healing her aches and pains almost as fast as drawing on her internal powers.
She held his face between her hands and kissed him back, shocking herself at the bold step, but he felt so wonderful . . . so right. She could have died in the maze and still wasn’t free of the Tribunal.
This moment belonged to her.
Storm wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, lifting her off her feet.
Adrenaline had to be behind her next move. She teased her tongue against his. One of his hands slid down, then back up under her shirt, skin to skin. Another hand cupped her bottom, pulling her against him.
Against a very aroused part of him.
Her mind leaped back to the last time an aroused man had touched her . . . driving a stake of pain through her moment of pleasure.
She tensed, then shivered and pulled back, staring into his eyes.
He watched her through eyes smoldering with feral hunger.
“Storm.” Her fingers dug into his shoulders. She loved the feel of being in his arms . . . and hated the fear that flashed to the surface of another hand touching her skin.
He exhaled a ragged breath and dropped his forehead to hers, muttering, “I am six kinds of a fool for letting this happen here.”
“I . . . uh . . .”
He withdrew his hand. “Right idea. Wrong time. My bad, not yours.”
She mumbled, “Umm.” Her body had turned into one twisted and frayed nerve.
He set her away from him gently. “But once this Tribunal job is over and you’re free, we’re going to find somewhere private to finish this conversation. Dinner as a minimum.”
Her brain caught up to her body and jammed the pieces of what he’d said into a cognizant thought. She had never allowed any man to touch her since the attack. Not like that.
But strangely enough, she wanted to know what it would feel like to let Storm.
He had nothing in common with the man who had attacked her, but allowing Storm this intimacy hadn’t been the brightest idea on her part.
He’d think she was leading him on if she kept pushing him away. Could she let this go further now that Tristan had shown her how to tap her Alterant without shifting?
No one could flip a switch to erase a rape, but she was tired of being alone.
What about when she’d thrown him across the subway tracks earlier when he’d pinned her against a wall to protect her? And she’d made him feel bad about kissing her this time when it was her fault for kissing him first.
Any man would take that as an invitation, especially one as virile as Storm. Confusion cluttered her mind. She’d sort through her conflicting emotions later once she had some rest.
“Evalle—”
“Hey, we’re good.” She would not show an emotional vulnerability to anyone, not even Storm.
He wiped a hand over his mouth and shook his head. “Serves me right.”
“What?”
