I cried his name, pricking his shoulders with my nails, tightening around him as I launched into oblivion. He followed me off the ledge, groaning my name.
Once we calmed, we were wrapped in each other’s arms, completely sated. I was sure a cosmic event occurred between us.
Storm must’ve felt the monumental moment. “Together, we’re an impenetrable force.”
He was right. Nothing and no one could break us when we were together.
27
Madeline
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The pounding on the door jerked Storm’s body beneath mine. His arms around me squeezed with anaconda strength. My eyes flashed open. His once calm heartbeat under my head leaped into a heart-stopping gallop.
“Storm!” More banging on the door. “It’s The Bullet!” I recognized the voice; it was Track’s.
“Shit,” he hissed. “Baby, I gotta get up.” He released me, and I lifted off his chest so he could get out of bed.
My heart raced, wondering what was going on. I turned toward the digital clock on the nightstand; 1:39 a.m. We’d only been asleep a little more than an hour.
In the nude, he unlocked the door and opened it. “What happened?”
“Hunters, they got two of our servers. Nancy and some new girl, Ava. They’re pretty messed up.” Track sounded furious, talking a mile a minute.
Storm growled, the muscles in his back coiling. “Fuck! Where was Ire?”
I just met Ire yesterday in passing before the party when he was on his way to work. He was the head bouncer at The Bullet. His road name suited him perfectly as he appeared to hate the world.
Sitting up in bed, I pressed my back against the wall and pulled the sheet up to my neck. Track couldn’t see me. The door was only cracked open. Storm’s backside was quite the sight from where I sat—thick thighs, muscular, round ass, trim waist leading up to a broad muscly back.
I wanted him again. God, I never tired of this man.
“They knocked him out with a lead pipe. He was unconscious when Art found him. I called Patch.” Track’s voice faded into a whisper. I strained to hear what he was saying.
“Motherfuckers,” Storm hissed and punched the wall. “Fuck.”
I jerked in the bed, utterly unnerved.
“Boxer went over. He’ll bring the women and Ire here.”
Bring them here? Shouldn’t they go to a hospital?If Ire was unconscious, he needed to go to the ER. He was almost the size of Wolf, the Russian giant. The Hunter must have struck him hard to knock out someone his size.
I cringed at the thought of a pipe hitting Ire’s head. My stomach churned. I needed to stop thinking about the metal hitting his skull.
“Good. I’ll get dressed. Meet you in my office in five.”
“Okay.”
The door closed. Storm turned toward me with a grim expression. I tugged the sheet taut against my breasts as he stalked toward the bed.
“Shouldn’t they go to the hospital? Ire was unconscious. Jesus, Storm, that’s serious.”
He sat next to me and tugged me onto his lap, sheet, and all. He kissed the top of my head and held his lips in place. “No baby. We don’t want the sheriff involved. The hospital would file a report. We have a doctor, Patch. He’ll fix them up here.”
This was insanity. I took Storm’s right hand to examine his knuckles where he’d hit the wall, then kissed them. Thankfully, they were intact.
“Is there anything I can do?” I pressed my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. I had a feeling I wouldn’t see him for a while.