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Storms of Desire
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by SheridanC


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Storms of Desire
by SheridanC

     
Chapter nine

The dreams she'd often had of Luis -- of his touch, of the hunger he inspired her to feel, of all that was him -- Sheridan soon discovered didn't come close to the real thing. His touch was hot and made butterflies flutter around in her stomach; his kiss caused shivers to run down her spine; Luis himself made her feel a hungry hot desire that she'd never felt before.

She was branded by him the moment he laid her down on the bed, cascading kisses over every inch of her. She reveled in the foreign feeling and returned whatever warmth and desire he'd brought forth in her. They gave and took, and brought one another to a world neither had been to before, only to collapse afterwards and gaze at each other. Luis stroked Sheridan's cheek delicately before laying his palm against her face and letting out a soft sigh. She smiled, and, only moments later, closed her eyes, weary from their lovemaking, and fell asleep in the arms of the only man she'd ever truly loved.



"This is absurd!" Pilar exclaimed, dropping the newspaper with the headlines "BUSINESS TYCOON LUIS LOPEZ-FITZGERALD CALLS OFF WEDDING TO EMILY HANSON AFTER WITNESSING SHE AND A BUSINESS PARTNER IN AN INTIMATE POSITION" to the table. The article went on to explain Emily and Luis's personal life to the whole of Harmony.

"I can't believe he called off the wedding!" Pilar sank back into the couch and sighed.

"And I can't believe you're so upset. Haven't you considered our son's feelings, Pilar?" Martin gave her a stern look and took a seat opposite from her in a plush chair. "Imagine finding the love of your life in the arms of another man, sweetings. What would you do?"

Pilar looked rightly chastised. She lowered her head and sighed. "But what about the merger?"

"Who gives a damn about the merger?" Martin replied. "I don't. And you shouldn't, either. Emily is a slut. I don't want the likes of her in my family."

Pilar lifted a shoulder and dropped it. "I guess we don't have to worry anymore," she muttered, gesturing towards the newspaper. "With news like that spread all over the place, it would be a scandal for Luis to wed her now."

Martin rolled his eyes, shook his head, and sipped his coffee. Why try arguing with Pilar? It wouldn't do any good. She had her mind set on one thing: Money.

She wasn't a bad person, really, she was just...selfish. And Martin did love her.

The front door opened and closed. Pilar looked up just as Luis came into the room. He glanced back and forth between his parents before shaking his head, running his hand through his hair, and hurrying upstairs.

Pilar frowned and said, "What's got him so upset?"

"Dear -- it could be because his wedding was just called off," Martin muttered.

Pilar stared after where Luis had gone. "I have a feeling that it has
nothingto do with that, Martin...nothing at all..."

Martin only groaned and sipped his coffee again.



Sheridan murmured an, "Mmm," and rolled over, reaching out for--who?

Her eyes fluttered open when she remembered what had happened hours earlier, but Luis was nowhere in sight.

Blinking, she sat up, clutching the bedsheets to her bosom. Where had he gone?

Maybe he'd gone to make some coffee.

She glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand and groaned. It was seven o'clock at night. Her mother must be worried about her, since she'd left her at the crafts shop at ten in the morning.

Still, making love with Luis had been a bliss she'd never felt before. One she certainly wouldn't mind experiencing again.

Climbing out of bed, she dressed in the clothes she'd been wearing earlier (a cotton white shirt and blue jeans) and started downstairs.

But the house remained empty. Her heart sank. He must have realized what he'd done and ran, regretting his actions.

She felt the tears springing to her eyes, but refused to let them fall. The man she loved with all her heart was nothing but a jerk. His online attitude had to have been a facade, as well as the way he'd acted when around her. Now he'd shown his true colors.

Why was she so bitter? It wasn't like, when she'd told Luis to have her, she hadn't known what would happen. Luis was rich, and she was poor. They'd never be good for each other. That was just the way things were.

Still, her heart was breaking, and there was nothing she could do about it. She started towards the couch of her empty livingroom and fell to it, clutching a pillow to her bosom and trying to fight back the tears.

In the end, melancholy won out, and muffled sobs broke the deafening silence of Sheridan's house.



The park was cold, the ground covered in sparkly white snow. The swingsets remained empty, swaying slightly in the cold December air.

A pack of carolers could be heard singing in the distance. Luis gazed up at the placid blue skies, blind to anything going on around him.

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining.

It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!

O night divine, the night when Christ was born...


(O Holy Night.)

A frigid breeze rattled a skeletal tree next to the bench. Luis sighed and lowered his head. It had been selfish of him to leave after making love to Sheridan; he knew that. But he had panicked after waking up next to her.

He'd opened his eyes and seen the most beautiful sight: Sheridan asleep in his arms. A foreign warmth had flooded him. His heart had suddenly felt like it was bursting with love. The feeling had scared him, because countless times he'd made love to Emily, and never did he feel anything so...beautiful.

He also regretted taking advantage of Sheridan. He had, after all. In his grief, he'd told her he needed her, and she couldn't refuse him.

She'd only slept with him out of pity, he thought, bitter. And he'd come to realize that he wanted something more of her; something she could never give him. Because they were just friends.

Weren't they? Could you consider someone you'd made love to a friend?

She probably hated him now. Despised him.

He wouldn't blame her.

With a sigh, he rose to his feet and trudged towards his waiting limousine.

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