Stormy Love Read online

  Stormy Love

  A Sweet and Steamy Short Story Romance

  Rosewood Romances Book 1

  by Amelia Star

  Copyright © 2020 by Amelia Star

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any

  manner whatsoever without express written permission of the publisher except for the use of

  brief quotations in a book review.

  Portions of this book are works of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real

  places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the

  author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or

  dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Book Cover by

  Ella Barnard

  Table of Contents

  ONE – SEAN

  TWO – SARAH

  THREE – SEAN

  FOUR – SARAH

  FIVE – SEAN

  SIX – SARAH

  SEVEN – SEAN

  EIGHT – SARAH

  NINE – SEAN

  EPILOGUE – SARAH

  Thank You

  Join Me!

  Also by Amelia Star

  Excerpt from Blossoming Love

  About the Author

  ONE – SEAN

  The music is the only thing keeping me from leaving this filthy place.

  “Go for it, Sean, live a little!” Karl, one of my associates, eggs me on. He watches the woman who dances around on the stage with nothing but a bra and high heels on, undulating, teasing the audience to the sound of powerful drums and resounding chords.

  But I’m not here for the reason my associates are. They corralled me into coming here under the pretense of having a few drinks while closing the deal on their substantial donation to the foundation. I would never have come here, if not for the fact my after-school program would benefit tremendously from their contributions. We just got a new meditation and yoga class funded, and now I’d really like to work on the beautification of the grounds at Rosewood Community Center – but I'm not sure funding the program is worth being stuck in a contract with these a-holes.

  “Oh, Sean, come on – quit trying to save the world for five minutes and just relax,” Steve, one of the out-of-town businessmen in the group shouts.

  “How about if we get back to the reason we’re meeting today,” I suggest, leaning closer in the hopes that this would distract my potential partners from what is going on onstage.

  “Hey, Sean – could you just lean back a bit there – you’re kinda blocking my view, if you don’t mind,” Steve, with his comb-over hairstyle and plump beer-gut, demands.

  There’s a storm outside, raging, and a storm of fury is building inside me, too. This whole meeting is questionable. I’m about to leave when Karl, the leader of this gang of creeps, gets up and follows the dancer around the edge of the stage where she’s currently giving her attention to someone not in our group.

  Up to this point, Karl and his associates have been acting like regular frat boys at a strip joint, ogling the dancers and shouting their approval.

  Now, however, Karl pulls a chair up to the table near the stage where the performer dances for a bald man in a t-shirt and sweats.

  “Looks like Karl’s found himself his own little cutie to pursue,” Steve shouts so that everyone can hear him over the music.

  I assume Steve is referring to the dancer until I notice a woman in workout clothes standing behind the bald man. She’s blonde, fit, and obviously doesn’t want to be here. Her friend, the bald guy, seems to have forgotten she’s even there.

  The shadowy atmosphere lends a hint of mystery to her. She certainly isn’t dressed as enticingly as the woman on the stage – or rather undressed. But she’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in my life. Unexpected desire pulses between my legs. I gaze at her, transfixed.

  The professional dancer, aware that she’s losing attention to the blonde patron, removes her bra and flings it into the crowd.

  To my horror, it lands in the beautiful blonde’s lap.

  The few people in the bar on this Friday afternoon laugh.

  “That’s it.” The woman stands. “I said I’d come in here with you for one drink. If I’d understood this was an actual strip joint, I wouldn’t even have done that. Sorry, lady.” She nods to the dancer. “It’s not that I don't respect what you do. This just isn't where I thought I’d be spending my afternoon."

  She redirects her attention back to her friend. "You've had your drink, so let’s get going. I’m supposed to be at the community center in 15 minutes.”

  The community center? I stop and ask myself. Could it be the same community center I’m heading to after this meeting?

  Baldy turns to the gorgeous blonde and rolls his eyes at her. “Can’t you see I’m busy here,” he shouts. “Get yourself another drink. It’s not hurting anyone to just sit here and enjoy the show.”

  He better watch out. I am ready to get up and knock him across his jaw.

  Karl pulls his chair up to baldy’s table. Then he picks the dancer’s bra up off the floor and throws it back on stage. “Your turn is over. Let the next girl on.”

  The music changes, and the next dancer on cue comes out, but no one pays attention to her. The men have noticed the blonde customer in the crowd, and they’re curious.

  I’m on the edge of my seat, ready to come to the rescue of this extraordinary, solitary woman. Something is going to burst here, it could be the storm or it could be me, depending on how the situation plays out in the next few minutes.

  “Hey, sweetie, how about if I get you another drink?” Karl takes the beautiful blonde’s hand and pats it.

  She pulls it away from him and repeats, “Allen, it’s time to go. Really.”

  So baldy has a name. “Sarah.” He waves a dismissive hand at the woman. “We’ve got plenty of time. Just one more dance here.”

  Sarah. The reverberations of her name roll through my heart, and desire rolls through every limb of my body. Like thunder – again. And again. Either the storm or the music or the madness of this whole afternoon is making me feel consumed by the idea of not just her name, but Sarah’s whole body and soul. I need to make this woman mine.

  Karl, however, is the one making the moves on her with obnoxious pick-up lines.

  Sarah ignores him.

  “Well, Sweetie, I’ve got a better idea. How about if you take a shot at dancing for us.” Karl looks around the bar. “What do you think, gentlemen? Anyone else mind if this lady takes over the show for us here?”

  “Quit calling me sweetie,” Sarah demands. “Just go back to the table with your other buddies, why don’t you.”

  The bartender, who’s been watching carefully what’s going on, picks up a phone and makes a call – either to his boss in the back office, or possibly straight to the police. In this part of town, they don’t mess around. You’ve got to get in line, though. the cops get so many calls, you have to wait for them to respond, if you’re lucky, within that day.

  This situation could turn dangerous fast. That’s why I want to get out of here as soon as possible.

  “Okay, Allen. That’s it. I’ve been patient long enough. I’m supposed to be at the community center in five minutes.” Sarah grabs his arm and pulls. I’m surprised how strong she looks. He actually has to fight against her grip to get away.

  “Let me go, bitch,” baldy shouts.

  Thunder. Anger. Rage – surging in every direction, inside and out. I’m ready to pounce – it’s time to intervene.

  “Come on and dance for us, sweetie,” Karl taunts, and claps to the rhythm of the rock song blaring from the speakers. As he cl
aps, he replaces the words with his own butchered lyrics. He parades through the practically empty place. And he gets the other men to join in, including my creepy associates I’d made the mistake of coming here with. Pretty soon the place is on edge. Something is going to happen.

  Unless someone puts a stop to it, fast.

  Suddenly, Karl reaches over and literally picks up Sarah and stands her on a table.

  That was a big mistake.

  Sarah lets out a kick that sends Karl flailing across the room, knocking over tables and chairs in every direction.

  Then she jumps off the table, half-spinning in the air, and lands like a gymnast.

  “Any more of you wimps ready to take me on?”

  Everyone in the bar stares, mouths agape. I step forward, done with this mess and the men who started it.

  “Karl, you owe the lady an apology.” I speak loudly so they can hear me over the music. “I could pound it out of you, but I know some people – wives, board members, and various other upstanding members of your community – who would be interested in learning about your behavior here. Unless, of course, you want to apologize to her now.”

  The men eye each other and I can see they are realizing the potential long-term repercussions of their actions in this hole-in-the-wall far from their homes. They thought they’d get away for a fun party weekend, and now they could end up wrecking their whole lives. They’re muttering to each other – my foundation has the power to cut them off from any future contacts with the movers and shakers in this area.

  One by one they stand and sheepishly beg her forgiveness. I’m not surprised when she responds with a condescending, “Whatever, you losers.”

  “I couldn’t say it better myself. The deal is off.” I turn to my new acquaintance.

  “Want to get out of here?” I ask.

  Sarah doesn’t even look at Allen as she starts toward the exit. The dancer returns to her performance and thunder peels in the distance. Allen shrugs at me as I leave. “She’s all yours, bud.”

  “I kind of doubt this wild thing belongs to anyone. But I will certainly get her away from this crowd of losers.”

  TWO – SARAH

  Leaving the building, I step out under the portico. Thunder and lightning take over the sky. Desolation surrounds us. The gray highway running to the left, the gray road running in front of us, and the muddy, treeless, grassless fields surrounding the parking lot bejeweled with colorful flashing lights shouting, “Naked Girls, Naked Girls, Naked Girls,” over and over.

  Allen, the dumbass, is fired. I’m not going to have someone like that as my assistant at the yoga studio. Thank goodness I only hired him a couple of weeks ago.

  I knew when I decided to volunteer to teach yoga and meditation at a community center in East St. Louis, I was coming into a warzone. There’s a reason they call it the danger capital of America. I even knew that there might be the possibility of violence. But I did not expect it to come from my yoga teaching partner Allen himself.

  But I’m not giving up at the first sign of resistance. It’s too important. I’ve been studying all forms of dance and acrobatics ever since I can remember. It’s the true focus of my life – yoga, the union of breath and movement. I want to share its power with others. After the end of my marriage, the realization I’d not likely ever have children of my own really motivated me to start working with these children at the community center.

  Because of Allen’s sleazy desires – here I am, walking toward the door of this lousy dive. Still miles away from the community center, and with no easy way to get there.

  “Sarah, is it? I’m Sean. You wouldn’t happen to be heading to the Rosewood Community Center in Hickman Mills, would you?” Apparently, the only decent guy in the club followed me outside. He glides toward me, dark eyes blazing with righteous anger, an ebony black man who’s stepped straight out of my dreams. Even better is his deep, husky voice.

  Still, a moment of decency isn’t enough for me to trust him absolutely. I eye him cautiously.

  “Don't mess with me.”

  “Oh, you can bet I’m not going to try anything with you,” he says. “But I run the Brighten Foundation for Afterschool Enrichment Programs. I was here trying to raise some funds, but you can see how that panned out. I can give you a lift, if you’re willing to accept a ride from a stranger.”

  If I had to pick anyone in this dump to give me a ride, this gorgeous man would be the one. He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s taller than I am, with his hair cut close to his scalp. All of that is the exterior. As a yoga instructor, I have an ingrained habit of paying attention to the way people move. And Sean has a balance to his gait, a certain centeredness to his movements that gives me the sense he is someone in touch with a peaceful inner being.

  I never expected to run into someone like him tonight. Maybe I’m stretching my imagination, hoping for the best in the worst circumstances, but something tells me that if I had to take a ride from a stranger under any circumstances – something I would not normally ever do – Sean would be the man to trust to take me anywhere. Seriously, if those other goons in the bar weren’t around, I’d have gone up onstage and danced for Sean – for free.

  “Okay, thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “We can leave anytime. I don’t know about you, but I want to get out of here.”

  Even though I’m impressed by his actions, I’m still a little skeptical. I’ve been burned by men before, and it’s hard to believe I’d find a good guy in a place like this, where creepy men come to let their most base desires loose. Could this actually be someone who will do the right thing, even in dive like this?

  “I’ll get my car,” Sean says, and pulls his suit coat over his head then runs out into the downpour. The downpour has already molded his clothes to his skin – his black skin shading through his white dress shirt.

  “Wait!” I shout, running after him, handing him my umbrella. I want to pull him under the umbrella and taste his kisses with the power of the storm rushing all around us. But this is neither the time nor the place for that, so I follow him. I have my hooded raincoat to keep me dry as we run across the asphalt lot.

  By the time we’re in his rundown pickup truck, despite the umbrella, he’s drenched. The wind blew the rain straight at Sean’s body and now his clothes are matted to his shape. I restrain from reaching out and just unbuttoning his shirt, which is pretty much useless at hiding the perfection of every muscle in his chest and arms.

  And his pants. They’re soaked. I can tell, he’s not unimpressed by me either. His excitement is apparent in the significant bulge at his crotch, which he tries to hide by taking off his suit coat and laying it over his lap.

  “Thanks for the umbrella,” he says. “But, well, I guess a raincoat would have been wiser.” He laughs, a bit nervously, looking at me.

  Rainwater pools around me, running off my slick coat. Underneath, my clothes are still dry. Well, most of my clothes are still dry. My panties, I can tell, are getting damp, being in such proximity to this man whose muscular shape is clearly delineated before me.

  For some reason, I laugh at the sight of this incredibly sexy yet somehow still calm and cool man, stomping his feet to get the excess water off. He throws his tie in the backseat, then unbuttons his shirt.

  “Life is really crazy, you know.” I talk in an attempt to dissolve the sexual tension between us. “Normally, I’d be sitting in my peaceful studio, on my cushion, meditating at this time of the afternoon. Now here I am, in a parking lot where at any moment shots could ring out. I hear about these stories from East St. Louis every day. Random gunfire. Danger at every turn.”

  “Yes, it’s true,” Sean confirms, starting the engine and turning on the heater. “You’re smart though. I can tell. And that’s half the battle.” The windows fog up. I’m shivering, staring, and wondering what blessed mistake I made that ended me up in the pickup truck of such a sensuous-looking man.

  “Well, I guess i
f we’re going to make it to Rosewood we should get going,” I say, trying to bring myself under control. “It’s just...”

  He looks at me with dark eyes, water dripping off his eyelashes. I didn’t even know I found that sexy until this moment. “Excuse me,” I say, digging in my pocket for a tissue. “Just let me –” I reach out to dab the water dripping from his forehead.

  In the enclosed space, with only the flashing neon lights, it feels like he’s peering into my soul.

  Slowly, my hand stops its dabbing motion.

  Besides the storm, our heavy breathing is the only sound to be heard.

  Kaboom. Lightning strikes. It’s as if some force from beyond impels us forward in a rush of passion. It’s a soul deep attraction that leads to us kissing, devouring each other’s mouths, my damp hands moving over his hard body.

  Sean’s arms wrap around my drenched raincoat. We madly explore each other’s mouths, our tongues tasting, mapping the terrain of the other, learning the deep and satisfying flavor of our passion. How long has it been for me? If it’s been as long for Sean as it’s been for me, that would explain our desperate, overwhelming – even violent need. As if we’re going to devour each other alive.

  Kaboom.

  A powerful boom of thunder sends vibrations through the truck, shocking me out of my lustful frenzy. The reverberations of the storm pulls us apart.

  “Oh, Sean. I—” I glance at him, then look away. “I don’t know what came over me. We don’t know anything about each other. It’s just the craziness of – of this whole situation.”

  Sean watches my hands as I reach in my pocket again for some lip gloss. “Sarah,” he whispers, trying to get my attention. I pretend to ignore him as I stroke the lip gloss over my lips. “Sarah.” He takes my hands again. “It might have something to do with how you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  Kaboom.

  I try to get back to my normal, sassy self. “Well, Mr. Sexy, guess what. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anyone so delicious as you. But –”