Hawk

by Amber Malloy

  “Fufufufuuuck!” Lexi shouted.

  Warm tingles shot through his entire body. Hawk swiveled his hips and sped up his pumps. He didn’t know what to call the strong hold she had over him. Lexi brought a range of emotions into his life—and the highs were never ending.

  As he buried his whole shaft into her pussy, a tight tingle started in his balls, begging him to release his load. He wouldn’t think about a life where he would rely on someone to the point where it hurt—love was off the table—but this whatever it was, he could get used to.

  Fighting off the emotions that wanted to highjack his beautiful XXX orgasm, Hawk focused all his attention on the pleasure her taut body provided him. He thrusted and fucked her hard. Lexi’s tight pussy wrung him dry.

  A wicked dose of adrenaline forced a lightheaded swell in his head to overrun all his senses. Still semi hard inside of the woman who was slowly disintegrating his bachelor life into a pile of ash, he reconsidered his resistance to the girl most successful.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  After Hawk had provided her with great drive-by dicking, Lexi felt she had the presence of mind to handle the wives. They were expected to arrive for a cozy evening cocktail at the cabin. Each girlfriend or wife was scheduled to take a turn throughout the week to host events. Somehow, she must have pulled the short straw, because she was up first.

  Setting out a simple spread, Lexi arranged a cheese tray that she’d paired with wine. If they wanted a more filling meal, they could politely visit one of those swanky restaurants in town.

  Since she didn’t see the point of experiencing fashion death in the high-altitude snow, Lexi wore a black blouse, jeans and boots. The minute the last hockey wife sashayed her ass out of the house, every stitch of her clothing would be on the floor in two seconds flat.

  Someone lightly tapped at the door. Before she could set the party platter down on the coffee table, Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones stuck her head into the cabin.

  “Knock, knock,” she called out, while simultaneously inviting herself into the room. “Oh, hi! We didn’t want to be too early, you know?”

  Sure, Lexi could have picked the obvious choice and went with that nutjob Cersei, but she had a feeling this blonde bitch was a ‘sneak attack’ kind of crazy.

  “No, I don’t know.” Tilting her head to the side, she feigned cluelessness. More often than not, Lexi was one of the few women working with all men in the room, not to mention the only black one. At this point in her life, she held a Ph.D. in microaggressions. Instead of apologizing for her rudeness, Brandi strolled into the cabin with her designer gang hot on her heels.

  “Oh cute,” Brandi commented in the most patronizing manner possible as she wiggled a pointy, jeweled finger at her cheese tray.

  “Did more wives arrive?” The crew of women seemed to grow by leaps and bounds.

  “No, this is all of us.” Brandi beamed. The strange display of friendliness automatically put Lexi on alert.

  “Let me help you in the kitchen?” The sweet chick from earlier, Tanya, hustled up next to her and tugged on her arm.

  “Come, come.” Brandi patted the seat next to her. “We have lots to get into.”

  Tanya closed her big, brown eyes with an audible loud sigh. When she reopened them, they had turned soft and shiny. With her shoulders hunched, she walked over to the brown leather couch and took a seat next to the blonde.

  “So, what is it that you do? Bartender, right?”

  “Yep.” Feeling a setup of the bitch variety was on the horizon, Lexi’s guard went up.

  “And what did you do before that?”

  “A little bit of this, a little bit of that.” She sat down on the oversized leather seat and grabbed the wine bottle off the table to pour a glass. “Anyone?”

  As Tanya raised her hand, Brandi elbowed her in the side. Lexi ignored the exchange and passed over the glass. No one besides a select few made eye contact with her.

  “We were just wondering…like modeling perhaps?”

  A random snigger from one of the women forced Lexi to gnash her teeth together. “Nope.” She poured another drink, fixed her expression, and popped back up with a smile. “Wine?”

  “Sure,” a redhead who hadn’t been at the earlier meeting said. “I’ll take a glass.”

  “Ahem.” Brandi threw them a dazzling predatory leer.

  Waiting for the gotcha moment that Brandi had apparently come for, Lexi handed over the glass of wine.

  “Because this little gem”—Brandi tapped on her cell phone before standing up and turning the screen toward the group—“tells me sooo much.”

  An amazingly clear shot of her getting pounded from behind by a faceless Josh covered the screen. Lexi’s throat instantly felt dry to the point of scratchy hellfire. She wanted to scream but couldn’t breathe. The carnal grunts from her sex video filled the air.

  Nervous chuckles at her expense joined the noises from the floor while the rest of the women turned away from Lexi’s breasts bouncing freely on the screen.

  “Did you really think,” Brandi bubbled out through fits of laughter, “you actually fit in…with us?” Louder giggles came from her minions, which cut through Lexi’s rage to focus her anger. “We don’t care how long Hawk’s been around or who gave that fucker the pity popular vote.” The blonde circled the room, holding up her phone for everyone to witness her unsolicited humiliation.

  Years ago, Lexi had created an app to share videos with the closest phone. Since she couldn’t see any practical use for it, she’d scrapped the idea. Josh, on the other hand, had apparently figured out a great way to utilize her work. When her phone had rang earlier at the meeting, it must have been her ex sending the video from yet another angle.

  Lexi honestly didn’t know what to do. She was frozen.

  “But I got news for you, honey. We don’t need no trash showing up on our playground trying to sell that shit to our kids.”

  “Huh,” the redhead said, while she reached for a grape off the cheese platter. “What are we even talking about here?”

  “That this isn’t basketball. We have a good God-given sport that people like her aren’t going to mess up.”

  “Oh please…” The redhead chomped on the fruit. “Who cares.”

  “We care.” Brandi threw her hand up with a dramatic Southern preacher flair. “Our reputation will not be tarnished by whatever this is, and that’s why you will not come to anymore games, parties or marketing events—”

  The front door swung open, and Lexi jumped from the bang when it hit the wall. Unsure of the dual emotions that coursed through her veins, Lexi cleared her throat. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she held off a heavy attack of laughter or a nervous breakdown.

  “Oh, dear. It seems we’ve not arrived in the nick of time,” Dahl cooed. Bogged down with a big pot, she headed into the cabin.

  “What movie is that from?” Remy walked in behind her with an arm full of bags. “Anyone, anyone?” she asked the hockey wives.

  “Practical Magic,” the redhead answered.

  “Ding, ding, ding,” Dahl said.

  “What the hell? Why’s Hawk’s hag club here?” Brandi nearly shrieked. “Did you take a wrong turn between Tarjay and the g-het-o.” She drew the words out with a shitty French accent, probably expecting a laugh from her audience, yet no one made a single peep.

  As a strong dose of awkward energy strangled the room, the sound of Josh figuratively and literally screwing her played on Brandi’s phone. Shame gobbled up her anger. The mere thought that people she liked would see Josh’s handiwork froze Lexi to her spot.

  “Jesus, for a pregnant chick, you can move…” Lashonda tumbled into the cabin, out of breath. “Did you drop the hammer on these bitches? Because whoo, this thin-ass air has me dizzy. I need a nap.” The sexy vamp kicked the door closed with her heel.

  “We were just getting to that part.”

  “There’s not a damn thing you or any one of these ta
g-alongs can do to me that would matter,” Brandi snapped. “You’re fucking football wives.”

  Remy slipped off her floor-length coat, then placed it on the arm of the nearest chair. “Stupos never like it easy,” she said while shaking her head. “Okay, Brandi Svenson previously Stallworth, one of the many publications I work for decided in the name of female empowerment not to run with a piece on you. This story included video of you giving the second season runner-up on The Bachelor an okay rim job.”

  Gasps of shock and surprise went up in a huge firework bloom around the room.

  “A half-assed one, if you ask me.” Lashonda snorted.

  “Oh, Brandi!” one of the idiots cried.

  “Big damn deal. Whatever advertiser drops Sven we can easily replace”—she snapped her fingers—“like that.”

  “But you told everyone you were a virgin, Brandi.”

  The redhead snorted. “And you bought that shit?”

  “That will be ten dollars, Rem.” Lashonda dropped down hard in the window seat by the door. “I told you the little hypocrite would flip it.”

  “Dammit, I’m hungry so I’m going to cut to the point. Dahl here owns a football team.” Remy gestured toward the kitchen, as the classic beauty poked her head out of the opening and waved.

  “So what?”

  “Dahl here also has every single number to the hockey owners, GMs and managers on her speed dial. Now who wants to get their husband traded to a career-killing team? A show of hands, please.”

  “Shit,” someone hissed.

  “Exactly,” Remy sang. “Now please pass your unlocked phones over to Lexi, then promptly get the fuck out.”

  “Wait a minute. I won a prize from earlier,” the ballsy redhead spoke up.

  While Lexi made swift work making sure the video hadn’t been forwarded from any of their phones, Lashonda opened the door.

  “That’s right. You win a bowl of gumbo from a three-star winning Michelin chef,” Remy told the redhead, then pointed to Tanya, who had at least appeared remorseful throughout the whole ordeal. “And you will stay here to collect all their phones and give them back later.”

  “No way… You can’t keep our phones!” A grumble of outrage shook the room.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they give them all back,” Tanya said with a slight quiver to her voice.

  “All right, hockey hookers, you heard the pregnant monster.” Lashonda hustled the woman out of the door. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” She clapped her hands together.

  Lexi glanced up to see them file out one by one before she got to work.

  As she wiped the video off the devices, she checked their emails, trash and cloud storage. Only a couple of the women had forwarded the video to one another. Tears blurred her eyes while she erased her ex-husband’s latest soul-destroying stunt.

  * * * *

  The luxury house next door was stationed a half-yard away from the one Hawk had rented. He’d wanted his crew close but not piled on top of one other. Knox had hit him up on his cell, explaining their change in plans.

  Hawk banged the door with the side of his fist. “Pizza delivery!” Knox flung open the wood door with both crying kiddos attached to his hip and a crazy expression set on his square face. “What’s up, man?” He chuckled.

  “Laugh now, but when it’s your turn…” Knox walked toward the winding staircase to pass a screaming Nyla off to Bane’s niece, Alana.

  “Hey, kiddo.” Hawk held up his hand for a high-five, but the twenty-something-year-old rolled her eyes and struggled to contain the full-blown toddler meltdown within her arms.

  Dead on his feet, Hawk loosened his tie and took in the recreational cabin he’d rented out for all the children. Cozier than the one he’d gotten for Lexi and himself, this one reeked of. kid friendly. Between the three sets of families, they couldn’t do too much damage to the place. Since Knox’s boss didn’t allow deadbeats on his watch, everyone had to pitch in. Thankful for the help, he figured it would at least give the return of his deposit a fighting chance.

  “Thought you had a game?” Hawk asked his best friend.

  All day he’d been held up in team marketing meetings. Kids, charity events, and the fans—it was his favorite stuff to do off the ice. Hawk loved the game but hated the business.

  “We do. That’s why this little side trip is hella inconvenient,” Bane Winston replied. He stepped out of the kitchen clasping three beers in his hand. While he passed Knox a bottle, Bane’s younger niece trotted down the stairs to take the other crying baby from Knox. Holding up his hand to the teen, this time Hawk got a hard slap in the middle of his palm for his trouble.

  “Thanks, Cady,” Knox told her. The big boss held the second beer out to Hawk. Usually he didn’t touch the stuff, but what could it hurt? The day had been brutal. He nodded his head as Bane tossed it to him. How long has it been since I had a cold one?

  Twisting off the bottle’s top, he sighed. Was that sad? Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have it if my reaction was that strung out.

  “Anybody going to tell me what’s going on?” Waiting for an answer, Hawk chugged the beer and instantly grew warm inside.

  “No clue. The wives packed everything in a frenzy, then boom, we’re in Aspen.” Dark circles settled deep under Knox’s eyes. The man looked a freaking mess. Hiding his chuckle behind a cough, he didn’t feel sorry for Knox in the least. The Mavericks football team were in the middle of a hellacious season and the famous former quarterback carried the brunt of the stress.

  “Fuck you.” Friends since they were kids, they could easily read each other’s mind and they both laughed.

  “If the husbands were outranked during a critical season”—Hawk shook his head—“then there’s definitely something up.”

  “Yeah, well, we have enough sense not to ask,” Bane confessed. “We wanted to make sure everyone got settled in before we headed out in the morning.” Hawk knew better than to dig deeper, even though his curiosity was getting the best of him. The wives were harder to crack than the mob.

  Instead of worrying about what had brought everyone to the mountains earlier than scheduled, he settled back in his seat and tipped the rim of the beer bottle to his lips. Whatever storm was brewing would take place, no matter what he did. All he could do to prepare was hunker down and wait it out.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The R&B melody of Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together cleansed the rest of the negative energy the hockey monsters had left behind. Lexi tapped her foot up and down at a frantic pace. Screaming on the inside, she fought that insane urge to break things and rail at the world around her.

  As laughter intermingled with Al’s soulful groove, Lexi tinkered with one of Frankenstein bride’s phones. She attempted to back trace the app Josh had used but couldn’t find anything that would prove helpful in a court of law.

  “How much longer?” Remy whined.

  “Here.” Lexi lifted her eyes away from the phone to see Dahl toss her a biscuit before she returned her focus back on the screen.

  “The alien in my belly is hungry.” Remy stuffed the appetizer in her mouth.

  “Can you even eat seafood?” Lashonda asked. “I thought—”

  “Zu shudup,” Remy mumbled over her mouthful of food. “Shud de fud up!”

  “That was my ex-husband,” Lexi admitted barely louder than a whisper. “The asshole wants me to give up my shares in the company, and he’s willing to do anything to make that happen.”

  When she didn’t hear anything other than the beginning bars from New Edition’s Can You Stand the Rain, she glanced at the five women. Afraid of what they were thinking, she swept her eyes across their faces. However, she didn’t get the sense of self-righteous judgment from any of them.

  “Josh used an old app I created to share the video,” Lexi continued, as she fiddled with the phone in the palm of her hand. “Whoever is closet to you at the time it’s sent will be able to accept documents, music, games, etc.” />
  “Cool,” Dahl said. “A complete time saver.”

  “That was the plan, but it had too many kinks,” she lied, as she caught a quick flash of displeasure shimmer across Remy’s face. “Anyway, it was one of many projects that didn’t make it.”

  Lexi had never felt this vulnerable in her entire life. However, she owed these women an explanation. If that video had gotten out, that would have been all the ammunition Josh would have needed.

  “Hey, I’m Bronwyn.” The redhead waved her hand. “My ex is a bona fide shithead, but that”—she pointed at the phone in her hand—“that was revenge porn. What the hell did he hope to accomplish with it?”

  “A leak.” She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers and took a deep breath. “Under the morals clause in my contract, it would force the board to kick me off.”

  “What company is this?” Bronwyn chuckled. “Fucking Apple?”

  “SugarTech.”

  “Oh damn!”

  “Gurl.”

  “Shit!” A resounding chorus of shock went around the room.

  “Huh?” Lashonda flopped over the back of the couch with a magazine. “Makes sense.”

  Instead of offering her a slew of empty platitudes, the group went back to the easy conversation only good friends could pull off. Since a million questions swirled in her head, Lexi gave up her on the data trace and set the phone down.

  Remy nudged her with her knee, breaking her out of her daze of memorizing the geometric swirly patterns on the area rug.

  “How did you know I needed help?” she asked the hot mom who passed her a glass of wine. While she waited for an answer, Lexi dreamily stared at the red liquid inside of it.

  “Tanya.” Remy chucked her thumb over her shoulder. “We all go way back. Her big sister is a football wife.”

  “Yeah. And believe me when I say the hockey wives are way worse,” Tanya piped up, snagging her glass of wine off the coffee table. She took the seat across from her. “The video showed up on my phone after the luncheon. Brandi must have gotten it around that time. She was damn near orgasmic with the thought of ‘hazing’ you.” She made quote marks with her fingers.