Page 19 of Sinner's Storm
Holy fuck!
My cock twitched as I continued to thrust deep within her, coming for a second time. Her tight cunt milked every drop from my balls.
Collapsing on top of her, my head spun from the once-in-a-lifetime orgasm.
When I finally untangled myself from her, she was completely asleep.
Sitting on the side of the bed, I looked at the clock on her nightstand and groaned.
It was late. I needed to get back.
Looking over my shoulder, I stared at the sleeping woman and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember her name. Not that it mattered.
I would never see her again.
After removing my handcuffs and getting dressed, I found a small notepad and thought about leaving my name and phone number. A small part of me wanted to see her again.
But in the end, I just wrote a simple note.
‘Thanks for the good time.’
“Let me get this straight,” Montana growled as he slammed me against the wall. “The night this club helped you get rid of one fucking problem, you created another!”
“Jesus, man,” Fury groaned. “Even I’m not that fucking reckless.”
“It wasn’t my finest moment, okay?”
“Not cleaning this up,” Malice snarked, leaning against the wall, munching on a fucking green apple.
“No one asked you to,” I snarled at the crazy son of a bitch.
“Storm,” Vicious, the club’s voice of reason, spoke up. “Have you given any thought to what you are going to do now?”
“No,” I clipped. “I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that I have a kid.”
“If you wrapped something else, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
“Thank you, Happy, for your pearls of wisdom.” I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck as I looked at Montana. “Did you see the way she reacted when she saw me? She hates me.”
“Bitch has reason, brother. You left a shitty note.”
“And she’s raised your kid all alone, with no help from you,” Payne added.
“And from what Shame’s been able to find out, she’s not had it easy, either. Your baby momma can barely feed your kid, let alone herself. Lives in a dump near the Port Authority and works a part-time job. Seriously, dude. She’s hard up,” Mercy muttered, looking at his phone. “The mom, Delany Campbell, is twenty-eight years old. Born in the city, to David and Anna Campbell. Dad was an NYC firefighter who lost half his station in 9/11. Afterwards, Mr. Campbell moved the family to Arizona, where he and his wife died in a house fire some years later. Delany was seventeen at the time. She moved back to the city and lived with her relatives until attending NYU for business. Now, this is interesting. Callaway Investments hired her right out of college. The girl was good, then suddenly she was fired for poor investment performance? What the fuck does that mean?”
“Fuck if I know. Who was her boss?”
“Peter Dowell?”
“Shit,” I cursed, shaking my head. “Peter Dowell is a fucking douche. Bastard has several HR complaints against him, but when investigated, the women either change their mind or quit.”
“So, it’s safe to say this douchebag could be the reason she’s no longer employed by your company?” Fury questioned.
“Yeah.”
“Storm?” Tessa’s voice broke in. Looking up, the Prez’s ol’ lady said, “Delany would like to speak with you.”
Chapter Six