Page 14 of Night Justice

His hips twisted and pushed out of sync with hers as his cock was milked in the most incredible way as if her body never wanted him to leave. His own strength started to waver while pleasure filled every crack of his being.

When the white dots stopped filling his vision, Sam shook his head and loosened his hold. Still deep inside her, he used his hands on her hips to slowly disengage while preventing her from falling face-first on the pavement, helping her lean on the pillar as she regained her breath.

Sam knew loitering would be dangerous, both for them and his identity, so he quickly removed the condom and tied it up before shoving it in his pocket and pulling his pants up. Slight dizziness remained, pleasure still hovering on his skin, but he knew he had to push it away.

With gentle hands, he helped Orla get herself back together. When Sam was certain she was steady enough, he stepped back, but she was quick to grab hold of his sleeve and pull him close for a kiss.

This one was that much sweeter, laced with something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

It was Orla who let him go first. “That was the worst idea ever, wasn’t it?”

He chuckled as he grabbed his discarded gloves and took one last look at Orla, with her satisfied expression as she leaned against the pillar, before silently vanishing in the shadows.

Chapter Seven

Her cell phonebuzzed beside her bed, and Orla resisted the temptation to throw it against the wall. With too few hours of sleep, her body felt like she’d run a marathon, but she knew that going back to sleep wasn’t an option. It wasn’t until she stepped into the shower with the coldest water temperature she could stand, that her brain got into gear, and memories of the previous night came back. The investigation, the bar, the explosion, the sex.

She cringed and turned the water even colder as she remembered the way she’d acted, like a bitch in heat at the hands of a man who was not only a killer but a complete stranger. What had got into her? The cold water stung, but she remained under the spray, part in atonement, part in hope the cold would bring her back to her senses. Arousal heated her skin as she replayed her encounter with the Vigilante in her mind——how hard he was, his taste in her mouth, how he throbbed under her tongue, but especially how he pummeled her as she held on for her life and sanity. She enjoyed sex, but the mix of danger and dominance from this mysterious lover reached another scale.

With her skin tingling and pink, Orla pushed that thought away before leaving the shower, drying herself and dressing quickly. She had a date she didn’t want to miss, and that would no doubt put her straying thoughts back in order.

Luckily, the spot Damon Evans chose wasn’t too far away and despite the morning traffic, she got there in record time. Her new car had more torque than she initially gave it credit for, and was more fun to drive than her old one.

That unexpected gift raised more questions, but the vigilante had destroyed her car after all, so why should she refuse a replacement? She needed a car, and this one was so boring and nondescript, it almost disappeared among the other cars on the road. It was something Orla particularly appreciated. Often she needed to remain unseen and unnoticed in her job.

The sun shining brightly over the city made her head ache, but she believed a strong cup of coffee and food would get her thoughts straight. There wasn’t another choice in the matter as she knew full well she wouldn’t get another chance to talk to the Storm Wayfarers’ president anytime soon if she screwed it up.

At least the restaurant had a parking lot, and from the look of the shiny Harley already parked there, Evans had arrived. When she entered, the place was lively, and the sun streaming through the large windows gave the space a cheery look. The dark wood and pale blue-green walls gave warmth and personality to the place. Orla had almost expected a hole in the wall, but the biker had other tastes. As a matter of fact, the man was already enjoying his morning brew at a small table in the far corner of the restaurant. With his back to the wall, he looked relaxed, but his roaming eyes gave him away. The man was on high alert, and she couldn’t fault him for it.

When he saw her, his smile broadened, and it was impossible not notice him checking out her body, despite not being dressed for seduction. On the contrary, with her muscles aching still, Orla had picked items that were comfortable—an old pair of faded jeans and a dusky pink sweater that was soft as butter. With her usual canvas jacket and her hair down, it wasn’t her best look, but Evans didn’t seem to mind.

He stood when she walked to the table and even pulled out her chair, which was unexpected, and she wasn’t sure how to respond. “I didn’t realize I was late. Have you been waiting long?”

Resuming his seat, he winked. “Not at all. I prefer to arrive early to get the best spot.”

Immediately, the waitress arrived and offered her a coffee and the menu. Before checking what was written, she looked around. “I wouldn’t have pictured you in this kind of place.”

Evans looked up from his menu. “Don’t tell me you’re the kind of woman who judges a book by its cover?”

Instead of immediately answering, she doctored her coffee and took a sip. The initial scald helped her get her thoughts in order. “What I mean is it’s very familiar and charming, in a quaint neighborhood. I expected more of a greasy spoon. Is it for my benefit, or is it your usual spot?”

He put his menu down and leaned forward as if to tell her a secret, but his boyish smile gave everything away. “I come here for one reason, and one reason only. It’s my fix, my high. I can’t go more than a few weeks before I have the craving.”

“What is it?”

“The white chocolate and caramel pretzel pancakes.” The man all but drooled when he said the words reverently as if they were the most sacred things in the world. “I love sweets, and this is over the top, magnificent, delicious... very few things in life top it.”

Highly amused, Orla leaned back in her seat and sipped her coffee. “I don’t know you well, but from the expression on your face, I think you just came in your pants.”

The man blinked a few times before roaring with laughter. She didn’t have to look to guess that most of the customers were looking in their direction, and this man didn’t seem to mind.

“I only do that when I have the first bite but don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you. I’ve learned to orgasm very quietly when I’m in a restaurant, otherwise I would’ve been kicked out for good, and I don’t think I would’ve survived the deprivation.”

Orla shook her head at his antics. Damon Evans was one of the most feared men in the city, but this side of him was charming and amusing.

The waitress came again, refilled their coffees and took their orders. As expected, Evans ordered his pancakes, but she wasn’t sure she’d survive such a sugar rush. Instead, she opted for the strawberry and banana hotcakes. At least they contained fruit in them.

With at least half a cup of caffeine in her system, her brain grounded into gear. “The situation at the bar kept you busy last night?”

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