Inside the Storm Read online

  I throw myself into Blake’s arms and kiss his cheek. I bite my bottom lip, stopping myself from saying, ‘I love you.’ I am not ready to express my feelings in words, yet. I need to let everything sink in. I have to make sure I don’t ruin this. If I tell him how madly in love with him I am, I can’t take it back. I want no more regrets. If this ends, I’ll regret giving him the words that mean so much to me. Words I have never said to any man before. Hell, I haven’t even had the pleasure of being in love before.

  “Rochelle,” Blake says, “what are you thinking about? You’re a million miles away.”

  “Oh… Umm…” I kiss his cheek again because I am unsure of what to say, “I was thinking of a new name for the club,” I finally blurt out. It’s the best lie I can come up with.

  “And, what did you come up with?”

  “PussyKat.” He coughs and raises a brow. I laugh. “I’m kidding.”

  “Want to go to my booth?”

  “Sure.”

  I get my purse off the bar, and that is when I notice people are giving me a look. I guess PussyKat offended them. Heaven forbid a girl says the word pussy.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how loud I said that,” I say, walking toward the booth. When we are seated, I say, “How about Club Sultry?” I lean my chin on my hand, waiting for his response. “I really have nothing.”

  Now it’s Blake who is miles away. I tilt my head to see what has his attention and notice a group of ladies gathered at the bar. A redhead has her eyes pinned on Blake. They look toward me and I know that glare. She’s pissed I’m with him.

  “I’m not into women,” I say.

  “What?”

  That got his attention. “I haven't eaten all day. Are you going to feed me or should I go home and get another muffin?”

  “I like that you called it home.”

  “Am I as pretty as she is?” I lean over and kiss him. I don’t want to know the answer to that question. “I suddenly want pizza. Can we go home?”

  “Rochelle, she’s nowhere near as beautiful as you are.”

  “I still want pizza. You eat pizza, right?”

  “I do. You do realize I’m American, right? I eat…”

  “Good, let’s go,” I say, cutting him off. “I hope you know a place around here that has greasy pizza. I’m not from this neighborhood, so I’m relying on you.” Ugh - I hate when I babble.

  “I know just the place. Grease dripping down your hand type of pizza.”

  “I have to go to the restroom to get my bags.” Again with the raised eyebrow.

  On my way to the restroom, I might have glared at the redhead. I push the bathroom door open a little harder than needed. I am upset. Upset at myself for not staying when Blake asked me to stay at the bus station. If I had, I would be out with my boyfriend having fun and his one-night stand wouldn’t be staring me down. But no, I had to run away, causing a mess as I always do.

  The bathroom door swings open and in comes the redhead. Fucking great! I got my brown bag from the thrift store that I had stashed under the sink’s counter. She looks at my bag and snickers. She thinks she is better than me.

  “If you think he won’t stray again, you are delusional. Men like Blake get bored. Ask my friends, he’s slept with half of them.”

  “Oh, honey, I know far better than you about how men stray. If you think for one second that Blake is going to bed any other women besides me now, you’re the delusional one. I bet he didn’t even finish when he was with you, did he?”

  “Well… Umm,”

  “What’s the matter?” I ask sarcastically. “You couldn’t bring Blake to climax could you?” It’s my turn to snicker. “Ya, I’m not worried. My pussy is golden.”

  When I exit the restroom, Blake is pacing the floor. He looks at me and I smile, letting him know I’m okay. His eyes then travel to my bag.

  “It’s all I could get with the amount of money I had.”

  “I’m not judging you.”

  “It feels like it.” Blake tries to take the bag from me but I refuse. I’m not ashamed to shop at a thrift store. “Don’t touch,” I say, slapping his hand away, “I bought you something, but it’s not for today.” I bet he’s never had a gift bought for him from the Dollar Tree before.

  We get into his sports car; I swear he breaks the speed limits every time he drives. I don’t even know how to drive, but I wish I had a brake pedal on my side of the car.

  I clean up dinner while Blake goes to change into something more comfortable. I have to admit, he delivered on the pizza. I wasn’t shy about giving him credit with kisses. After all, it was hands down the greasiest pizza I have ever had.

  While I’m in the kitchen, I find a bottle of sweet red wine. In my search for glasses and the bottle opener, I see his cupboards are quite full. I take note of what he has because I love to cook. I want to surprise him and make dinner tomorrow night.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Wine glasses.” I told a fib because I want to keep dinner a surprise.

  He laughs. “They’re right in front of you.” He opens a drawer and takes out the corkscrew, then opens the bottle.

  “Do you have a maid? Everything is so… so neat.”

  “Yes, she comes a few times a week.”

  “Do you sleep with her?”

  He takes his glass of wine with him to the sofa and leaves mine sitting on the counter. “No, Rochelle, I don’t have sex with my maid.”

  I don’t join him on the sofa. Instead, I go to the window. Once again, my own insecurities are causing trouble and I’m ruining a perfect evening.

  “Are you ever going to trust me?”

  “I don’t know.” There, it’s out there. He now knows I have trust issues, if he hadn’t already figured it out on his own. “It’s not that I don’t want to trust you.”

  The silence in the room is deafening. I feel the tears welling up in my eyes. “I’m sorry, I should not have asked you such a question.”

  “Come here.”

  I go to him. He takes my hand and pulls me on top of him. We lay on the sofa together, with his arms embracing me and his heart beating beneath my ear. This is the only place I want to be. I feel safe in his arms. I silently pray he doesn’t get sick of me. I’m not purposely trying to be this difficult. I wasn’t given a handbook on how to love someone. I haven’t even had the privilege of being in love before now.

  “I don’t hide the fact that I’ve been with other women. Hell, I even told you about that redhead the other night, even though I’d rather have left that under a rock. One thing I never do, though, is sleep with my employees.” He laces his fingers with mine. “That’s a lie,” he states. “There is this gorgeous blonde that I recently hired. I may have slept with her a few times. She’s an exception. She’s special and drives me nuts.”

  “Do you think of her while you're climaxing?”

  “Absolutely. She’s the only one I can think of like that anymore. It’s not even fair to the other girls.”

  “Lucky girl.”

  I crawl up his body and kiss him. When I try to get up, he doesn’t want to let me go, but I manage to get away. Picking my phone up off the glass coffee table, I say, “You need to get up.”

  “Now what are you doing?”

  I bite my bottom lip and use my finger to get him to come to me. He shakes his head and smiles. I start the music.

  Hiding My Heart begins to play. “Dance with me, Mr. Hargreaves?”

  Blake puts his hand on my lower back as he steps into my space. I bury my nose in the crook of his neck. I absolutely love the smell of him. We sway to the song that I can only hope he will understand.

  The song ends, and I wish I had put it on repeat. “It’s me, Blake, me that I don’t trust to not fuck this up. Don’t give up on me. I promise, I’ll get there.”

  I melt into his kiss that tells me he’s not going anywhere. I squeeze my thighs together. Even though I’m getting wet between my legs, I just want this man
to hold me. “I want to go to bed and just be in your arms all night.”

  Blake sweeps me off my feet and carries me to his bedroom. Our bedroom. My feet sink into the carpet when he sets me down. I get out of my dress and under the covers while he lights a candle and turns the lights off. I snuggle up to his bare chest and cross one of my legs over his. The silk pajama pants he has on is the only barrier between us. I want him to make love to me, but I need this more.

  Nothing about the relationship had been easy to date, and I suddenly woke with the sensation that it had been nothing more than a dream. The thought that Rochelle might not be next to me caused a panic to rip through my body. I threw myself over and found an empty bed. As the haze of sleep subsided and my mind cleared, I noticed the bedding on her side was tossed aside. She had clearly been there, just as I remembered. I could also see the burned down candle next to the bed. It was real. Breathe Blake!

  A noise from the kitchen further assured me that all was well, and I flopped back down on the bed to catch my breath a moment before swinging my legs out, grabbing a shirt from my dresser and walking out to meet my love in my pajama pants.

  “Good morning, sleepy head,” Rochelle chirped as I came out. She was wearing one of my t-shirts, and from the look of her, nothing more. I admired her beauty as the shirt hung from her body, not stirring sexual feelings, but something more akin to comfort at having someone being so open and relaxed with me.

  “How’d you sleep?” I asked, stepping up behind her and giving her a kiss on the top of her shoulder as my hands went to her hips.

  “Mmmmmm,” she replied to my touch before answering my question. “I slept well, but I woke up thinking about your offer a couple nights ago, and I was so excited that I couldn’t get back to sleep. Do you really want me to run the club?”

  “I do,” I replied. “It’s pretty clear that the egg on legs in charge today shouldn’t be allowed near women, let alone be running that club.”

  Rochelle spit the water she was drinking, thankfully back into the sink where she was standing, and howled with laughter at my comment. “What did you call him?” she asked.

  “An egg on legs. Come on… everyone has to see that!”

  “For sure, but I’ve never thought of it like that. That’s the funniest thing ever! Can I call him that?” she asked, still cackling.

  “It can be our little inside joke. How about that?”

  Rochelle’s laughter stopped and she became more serious, though the corners of her lips were still curled upward at the thought. “After all he’s called us, I think he deserves the name outright, but I suppose I want to be better than him, so that’ll have to do.”

  My hands were still on her hips and I pulled her back into my body, wrapping my arms around her midsection and kissing the side of her neck playfully.

  “Thank you,” I said. “After all - we wouldn’t want to crack the egg.”

  Rochelle laughed again as she spun in my arms to face me. Tilting her head up, she reached around my neck and pulled me down into a kiss. It was both sensual and playful, and I lifted her at the waist. Her lips never left mine, but I could feel her smiling and trying not to laugh as I lumbered into the living room, her body swaying against mine.

  I dropped her onto the couch and stuffed one of the pillows in my shirt. “Don’t lie,” I said, mocking a seductive tone. “You love the egg on legs, don’t you?”

  “EWWWWWW!” Rochelle protested, throwing another pillow at me.

  I waddled toward her, swinging my stuffed belly wildly, saying, “How do you like your eggs in the morning, baby?” which earned me another loud response of, “GROSS!”

  “Over EASY, I bet,” I shouted, thrusting my hips pervertedly.

  Rochelle was rolling in laughter, all while protesting my every disgusting action. It was unlike any other interaction we’d had, and it felt good to just cut loose and be silly. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d acted like this with ANYONE. I was a bit of a goofball at heart, but between my work and the persona that I maintained most of the time, I rarely ever let this part of me out for anyone. As much as I was focused on trying to earn Rochelle’s trust, I was surprised to find that she was helping me to trust in a way I hadn’t realized had been lacking in my life.

  As tears rolled down both our cheeks, I pulled the pillow out of my shirt and leaned over to give her a real kiss.

  “Please, don’t ever do that again!” she protested playfully.

  The mood certainly wasn’t romantic and after a quick tickle of her ribs, we were heading back into the kitchen to get some food.

  Rochelle shared her ideas for the club while I did my best to listen, but it was hard to focus on her words when I was so captivated by the cute way she talked a little more out of one side of her mouth than the other, or how she bit her lower lip when she was especially excited by one of her ideas. It appeared that I’d hit the jackpot with this plan, and she was fired up!

  We finished our food and jumped in the shower, eager to get to the club and share the news with Randy. Part of me felt bad for looking forward to it so much, but the pig had brought this on himself and deserved far more than what we were planning. Rochelle nearly derailed our plans in the shower as I had trouble keeping my hands off of her, but her determination to get to the club kept me at bay, and we were soon dressed and on our way down to my car.

  “How do you think he’ll respond?” Rochelle asked as we both ducked into the car.

  “I imagine he’s going to be EGGceedingly upset,” I said with a snicker.

  “You’re terrible,” Rochelle laughed.

  “Do you think he’ll get mad, or is he too… chicken?”

  That one took a beat before Rochelle groaned and smacked me in the chest.

  I turned on to the street and punched it and Rochelle’s hand shot for the handle over her door in a panic.

  “Do I scare you when I drive?” I asked, having never even thought about that before.

  “A little,” she answered honestly, with a hint of trepidation at letting me know.

  I immediately eased up. “I’m sorry,” I told her. “You can tell me if I’m going too fast. I’m not used to having anyone else in the car. I can definitely understand that my driving may be a little frightening to a passenger. ”

  “Thanks,” she said, not releasing the handle, but reaching over with her left hand and resting it on my leg.

  Driving along - having had a playful morning without any drama - on our way to take care of business together - talking with her hand on my leg... this was perfect. I smiled and slowed the car, quickly finding the more relaxed ride to be enjoyable in a new way. It was nice not to be racing from one place to the next, trying to cram as much into my day as possible, constantly calculating what I could do with a few extra minutes. The entire morning had been a break from my normal routine and I liked it. I wanted every day to be this good. For the first time since I’d met her, I felt like there was a calm between us. The storm that always seemed to be raging within Rochelle seemed to have abated. As she looked at me now, her hand gently resting on my knee, she seemed to glow. I couldn’t wait to get to the club and make the arrangements that would solidify her new position and her new life. We pulled into the club and parked next to Randy’s car in the back. He had custom plates that read RNDYMAN. What a douche. I wanted nothing more than to drag my key along the side of his car, but my better judgement, and the fact that neither my house nor car key were real keys, saved it. I doubted the RFID card that activated my floor on the elevator would do much to the car.

  “BLAKE!” Randy shouted as I walked in, getting no response from the other two employees in the club. They weren’t open yet, but it was nearly time. “Roxy?” he added as more a question than anything.

  “Rochelle,” she corrected him. “I’m not your working girl anymore. Call me Rochelle.”

  It looked like Randy was going to snap something back at her, but he looked at me and thought better of
it. “I’ll try to remember,” he said. “So are you two an item or something?”

  “Yes,” I answered without hesitation, “and Rochelle is also going to help take care of some of my business ventures for me, starting with this club.”

  Randy blinked a few times, and then his eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. “You’re going to have her help me with the club?” he asked, as though that was somehow offensive. I almost pitied the man who had obviously not grasped the true weight of my statement.

  “No,” I said, and paused to let his shoulders relax some before delivering the real blow. “You are going to help Rochelle run the club.”

  Randy’s face lit up like a bright red dodgeball, and I thought steam was actually going to shoot from his ears.

  “That’s ridiculous!” he blubbered, spitting as he shouted, completely losing his cool. “This bitch doesn’t know a thing about business!”

  My left hand had his collar before I’d even thought about reacting. My bicep flexed enough to lift him to his toes, but there was no way I could pick up this lard-ass with one arm, even on my best day.

  “You’d be wise to watch your tone,” I shot back at him. “This incredible woman is going to help me save this club from the pit that you’ve turned it into. I didn’t buy in because I like what you have, but I see what it could be if a perverted, sexless clown wasn’t at the helm. If you have a problem with that, you know where the door is, and you can feel free to let it hit you in the ass on the way out.”

  The color drained from Randy’s face just as quickly as it had come, and he now looked terrified as I held him by the stiff collar of his shirt.

  “Is that going to be a problem?” I pressed.

  He shook his head and I released him.

  “Rochelle will begin working here tomorrow and will need space in the office for another desk. You can help her get up to speed on the business, and then she and I will figure out where to take things. You’ll still get your cut as a part owner, but she has authority to make business decisions on my behalf.”