When I got back to my room, I hit the shower. As the cool water pelted my back, I thought about the kiss with Storm. After four years, our chemistry was even stronger, like the adult version of the kids we had once been, if you could call us kids back then. Our hidden affair had started a few months before our seventeenth birthdays and lasted until I left Newport when we were around twenty. Considering everything that had happened to me in my life, I was pretty grown up for my age, even at sixteen.
I recalled the noise of sheer unadulterated pleasure Storm made as I slid my fingers into her panties, as I fisted my cock in the shower. I was rock hard within seconds of that thought. The memory of the way her body responded to my touch forced me to stroke my length, pumping from root to tip. A frenzied excitement pulsed through me as I placed one hand on the tiled wall of the shower and jerked myself off: memories of fucking Storm from behind while she was on all fours, and how she looked when she’d suck me off spurned me on. Fuck, when I’d first pulled into the parking lot at Harbor Heights, I walked by several places where Storm and I had done something sexual together.
Keeping those memories of my girl getting off in numerous positions, I came hard, my balls tightening as ropes of cum hit the tiles.
After cleaning up, I climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. I’d managed to steal Storm’s number from Phoenix’s cell. He’d left it unlocked when he went to take a piss at the Gala. I’d backed the guy up in every school fight and college house party we’d torn up. All of which had been instigated by the big man himself. I’d been there for him during his menace to society years, but he wouldn’t give me Storm’s cell number. Not without asking her first. WTF? Nix had forced me to take it by underhanded means. What? If I needed to stoop, I did. Dude shouldn’t have spent most of that night messaging Harper.
Whoever said ‘crime does not pay’ was wrong. I got that being bad was a recipe for destruction, but it was still as exhilarating as fuck. Bottom line, if Phoenix knew I’d hacked his phone, he’d tear me a new one.
Taking an extra towel from the rack, I dried my hair and then threw it into the hamper. Padding over to the bed, I grabbed my cell. I had a few missed calls and a message from Hudson.
Dinner at Ma’s on Wednesday night. Be there.No, please, or a question asking if I was available, just a straight-to-the-point order. Same old Hud, I thought with a smile. I wondered if both Hudson and Phoenix’s lives were boring now that they had girlfriends; they were more grounded than they used to be.
Turning the news on, another wave of guilt hit me as I saw the reporter standing outside the courthouse: the Palmers’ attorney was attempting to walk through a sea of people who were shouting abuse.
The Horror House was the caption on the screen.
Would coming forward help or hinder the case? I certainly didn’t want to turn something so serious into a media circus by being a high-profile victim.
Shit. I had decided to hold off on doing anything until I spoke to Storm. I was genuinely interested in what she would say. I knew she was an excellent counselor, had heard it from some of the best in the business. I hoped I hadn’t ruined my chances after my big fucking mouth. Once I had squared things with Storm, I’d contact my lawyers.
No longer able to stomach some of the clips they were showing, I turned the news over to a sports channel and fired off a couple of texts. One to the coach about practice, and the other to one of my teammates who had arranged a victory party the following weekend. We were up against The Bears. I chuckled at his positivity, a victory party. We hadn’t even played them this season, and he was already predicting a win.
It would be my first official game with the Patriots, and I wouldn’t let them down. That was my chance, my moment to shine and show them who I was, and would always be, the starting quarterback (minus the temper tantrums). I was a cocky asshole, but I wasn’t blinded by that to not see how getting violent on the field let my team down. Especially when the guy I was fucking up was on the same side.
Sitting down on the mattress, I found Storm’s number and typed in my message.
I’m sorry.
I didn’t know if she’d respond. Fuck me, she could be sitting in bed with that prick as she read it. I did not relish that thought at all. The belief that she wasn’t sleeping with him was shot out of the water with what she’d said that night, but then, after she’d gone off like a firecracker in my arms. I knew she couldn’t be getting any. At least, not like that anyway. That’s what I hoped.
First, how did you get my number, and second, you’re an asshole.Hope snaked up my spine as she replied seconds later.
I quickly messaged a ballsy reply.I stole your number from Nix’s phone.
Really? Well, it’s your funeral.I wondered if she’d rat me out to her brother. They seemed so chummy now, considering they used to be at each other’s throats all the time.
Look. I’m sorry, OK, for what I said. You’re right, I was an asshole.
At least you admit it. It can’t happen again, Reed. I mean it.I felt a surge of annoyance, considering how much she’d enjoyed herself. I’d been the one left hanging due to the fucker who’d decided to sneak out of the Gala for a smoke.
Whatever you say.I responded.Are we on for Monday?
You mean you intend to show up.Tramping down that swell of irritation,I didn’t point out that the coach was the reason I couldn’t attend my last session, as I’d already done that at the Gala. Storm, being Storm, still picked and chose what she listened to.
Giving the message a withering look, I counted to ten and responded.I said I would.
You promise to tell me everything? Don’t hold back.
I took a deep breath before I replied.Yes.
My cell pinged in my hand.Good, talking is the first step.
I got that.
What about our date?
What about it?
