Cruel: A Max Hamilton Story (Interracial/WMBW) (Book4)

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《Hi!👋 First chapter, hopefully you like it. I would really appreciate it if you guys would comment as we go & drop a vote if you like! Anyways, let's get started. Deuces!✌

P.s. All chapters will be unedited until I finish the book and edit it at a later time. Also there will be a warning '×' for very mature chapters. This will be a mature story, but there will not be a lot of sex scenes. There will mainly be very blunt and vulgar language.》
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Maxim

I groaned leaning against the counter in the restroom while the Spanish beauty I had met in the club at the bar was on her knees before me. My dick was nestled comfortably between her plump red painted lips in her warm wet skilled mouth as she took me down to the hilt down her throat. This woman is beautiful but she is not my usual taste in bed mates. I know that I seem like a total tool but this is just the way that I operate now. I finished cumming in her mouth before tucking my dick back into my boxers and doing back up my pants. She rose to her feet, her arms snaking around my neck as she rose up on her tiptoes to kiss me but I shoved her off of me.

"You are way too drunk, slag to think that I would let you put your filthy lips on me after you have just barely finished swallowing my cum. I do not know you or where your mouth has been", I quipped adjusting my clothes. She stared at me, a look of shock upon her. "Close your mouth, sweetie before another dick goes in there", I said tossing her a smirk before opening the restroom door and taking my leave. I did not care if my appearance made it all of the more obvious about what transpired in the restroom. I look good either way and I was just having a good time, same as everyone else in the club. I made my way over to the bar ordering two shots of Grey Goose, immediately knocking one back then slamming time glass back down onto the bar.

I needed to clear my head. I needed to forget for a little while longer. A son. I have a freaking son that I did not even know existed. That cut betrayal me deeper than when my Beauty left me years ago. You know, everyone paints me as the bad guy. They blame me for her leaving.

How was it to know that she would up and disappear with my unborn son out of my life that night after a petty argument between us? It has nearly been a month since Thanksgiving dinner at Ana's mum's when I found out about my son's existence. My son, he looks so much like me it is almost scary. He is four years, two months, and three days old. Four years I have missed of his life. Christmas is almost here and I want to see him, but I am scared.

What if he does not like me? What if my own son hates me? I did after all make his mum cry and put my hands on her. It was not one of my finest moments nor was it one I would repeat. Four years of missing out on my son's life. I should stop calling him 'my son' and call him by his name, Maxwell. She named him after me.

I picked up my second shot before downing it an slamming the glass onto the bar beside the first one. "Barkeep! Two more, make it a double!", I called to the bartender. He nodded at me before beginning to make my drinks. I turned to face the crowd of grinding bodies on the dance floor to people watch for a bit while I waited for my drinks. It always made me feel good to see people around me having a good time. Out of the corner of my eyes I spotted Ianthe sitting around with a group of her girls in a less crowded area of the club laughing and talking.

We had broken up a few weeks ago after we had an argument about Delilah. She told me that I should reconsider taking my son's mum to court for custody of him and let her keep him. She was supposed to be on my side, yet she chose to side with a woman that she knows jack shit about besides her name and the fact that I share a son with her. I frowned as I took in her attire. She had on black knee high stiletto heeled boot and a short grey dress that could pass for a nighty. She looks as good as she usually does. However, I have come to realize that she just does not do 'it' for me anymore.