Caught (Prequel to Hawk) (Sex and Bullets)

by Jo Raven

  So warm and solid. He feels so good.

  But curiosity finally wins out and I turn, bending over the table to take a closer look at the silver thing. I tug at it. The handle is silvery indeed, but from it sprout black leather strips.

  “What is this thing?”

  “My new flogger,” Hawk says, pressing his chest to my back and sliding his arms around my waist. “I bought it just for you. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

  ***

  It is sleek and dangerous looking, I think, turning it over in my hands. I’m kneeling on the bed, and Hawk is lying on his back beside me, one arm folded under his head, his gray eyes luminous as he studies my face, waiting for my verdict.

  “Is this… like a whip?” I wet my dry lips with the tip of my tongue, and Hawk lifts a hand to my face and wipes my mouth with the tip of his finger.

  “Yeah. A hand whip. But it doesn’t really hurt. Like the roses.” He gives me a crooked grin. “Try it on your hand. You’ll see.”

  Try it? I wrap my hand around the silver handle and drag the soft leather strips over my other hand. It tickles. It feels… good.

  Then I lift it up and bring it down on my open palm a bit harder.

  “Oh fuck…” Hawk’s eyes turn to slits. He lowers his hand to his crotch and that’s when I realize he’s hard again. “I want to do that to you.”

  “You do?” I mean, obviously, if he bought this flogger just for me, but it’s kind of weird. And exciting. “Where would you hit me with it?”

  “On your back. Your ass.” He tugs on his cock, toys with the barbells, and a flush rises to his cheekbones, making his eyes glitter. “On your tits. Between your legs.”

  Shit. I’m breathing hard, and the tips of my breasts ache, tight with desire. I never thought I’d want a guy to hit me with anything, roses or whips.

  But I can’t deny that the thought, the mental image of Hawk doing that to me is setting me on fire.

  “Yes,” I whisper before I even know I’m saying it. “I want it.”

  He curses softly, sitting up and putting both hands on my face, his rough palms catching on my skin. He leans in. “Are you sure, Doll?”

  “Yes,” I say before I change my mind.

  His smile is soft, softer than the strips of his flogger. “I promise it will be so fucking good. And if you wanna stop, just say the word, okay?”

  I nod, not trusting my voice. Then he unclasps my skirt and pulls it off me, and I’m naked, except for my boots.

  “Love your boots,” he whispers darkly, letting my skirt fall to the floor. “Turn around.”

  I turn on all fours, and he puts a warm, heavy hand in the small of my back. “Like this?”

  “Damn perfect.” Something cool and velvety caresses my leg, and I realize it’s the flogger. He lets the strips trail over my back, over my ass, lets them flow over my crack, over my exposed pussy, and I shudder, tiny jolts of pleasure running up my spine. “You look fucking beautiful.”

  I turn my head, to say not sure what, when he lifts the flogger and lets it fall on my back. There’s almost no force behind it, only gravity, it seems—and the impact is soft and yet startling. Pleasurable.

  Instead of speaking, I moan, my head falling forward.

  “That’s it,” he murmurs, letting the flogger fall on my back again and again, each time a little lower, stroking shoulder blades, my ribs, reaching my ass. He works the strips over my ass cheeks, and the pleasure mounts and floods into my core, making me clench.

  That’s when he spreads my legs more, draws back a little and lets the strips fall right over my pussy, hard.

  “Oh God!” I flinch and shake, and it’s not really pain, but it’s not pleasure, either. It’s just shock.

  “Relax,” he says, but then does it again, and again, and then it’s all pleasure, dark, thick pleasure that drips down my belly like syrup, tightening my insides until I can’t breathe.

  My legs are trembling, and when he hits me again, I small cry pushes past my lips.

  I’m close to coming, I realize with a start. From this. From Hawk flogging my ass.

  “Like this?” He now drags the strips over my pussy, and I whine deep in my throat from the tantalizing stroke.

  “More,” I beg. “Harder.”

  “Seeing you writhe like that, seeing how you like it… Hot damn.” He snaps the flogger against my inner thigh and I struggle to bite back another plea.

  So close.

  He strikes my other thigh, the impact leaving a light sting that only makes my belly tighten more.

  “Please, Hawk…” I need.

  Need more.

  “Turn around.” When I don’t move, my body too taut with need, he pushes down on my back until I’m lying on my belly, and then rolls me over.

  I look up into his handsome face, and he smiles, slow and sexy.

  He trails the strips of the flogger over my breasts, then flicks them over my belly, and I gasp. He sits back enough to snap the flogger over my boobs, over my hard nipples, and I’m lost in sensation. I grab at the sheets, needing a tether.

  I find none as he alternates between my boobs, then slips his other hand between my legs and breaches me with two fingers.

  “Holy shit!” I rock against his hand, the pleasure bursting in me like a firework, flames and sparks, and I come so hard my vision goes black. The pleasure liquefies my bones. “God…”

  His fingers are still inside me. He’s holding himself still, sitting back on his knees, and between his legs…

  Good God, he’s so hard it’s impressive.

  And I want his cock inside me. “Please,” I whisper, and reach down, glide my hand over my belly until I brush over my clit and touch his hand that’s still half-buried inside me. “In me.”

  He kind of grunts, the flogger dropping from his hand on the mattress, and he pulls his fingers out of me, slowly, dragging on my inner walls, sending ripples of pleasure into my core.

  Bracing himself on one hand, he guides his cock into me in one thrust that seems to go on forever, until he’s seated inside me.

  We both cry out at the sensation.

  He’s hot, and so hard, and when he does a sort of push-up over me, and I lift my legs to his waist, he crushes his mouth to mine and groans against my lips.

  Feels even better than last time. So much better. He surges like a wave inside me, muscles flexing in his chest, his arms, his legs. There’s nothing slow, nothing gentle about this lovemaking. His pelvis is rocking, his dick pushing in and out of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress as he picks up speed.

  He’s thrusting deep inside me, hard and fast strokes, his breaths coming in uneven pants.

  “Fuck,” he grunts, “fuck, fuck, babe, I’m…” His strokes turn shallow and frantic, and I moan his name as another tsunami of pleasure hits me, taking me under.

  His forehead drops to mine. His breath catches, his hips jerk, then again. And again. He comes for a long time, waves of liquid heat bursting deep inside me.

  “Fuck me…” He shudders when I clench around him again. “That was…”

  Awesome.

  Amazing.

  Better than ever.

  It’s not until later, when he finally pulls out of me, that I realize something else. There’s liquid dripping out of me.

  And he has no condom on.

  Shit.

  He seems to realize, too, and he glances up at my face, brows drawing together. “Oh fuck. Tell me you’re on the pill.”

  “I am.” It’s the truth. “And I’m clean.”

  The question hangs in the air between us. What about you?

  “I’m clean, too.” He sighs and flops on his back. “Got tested this week. I wanted to ditch the condoms, but hadn’t thought to do it so soon.”

  My heart trips. “Ditch them?”

  All possible reasons flash through my mind and my heart is hammering.

  He turns his head toward me. “I’m only fucking you, babe. No other girl.”

  �
��But you said…”

  “No feelings. No relationship.” He puts a hand down, searching for mine. Clasps it. “But sex… yeah, I want that with you. For as long as this lasts.”

  “Me too,” I hear myself saying as if from a distance, and oh God… What am I doing?

  Chapter Five

  “So, your man, he’s hot.” Dorothy is chewing on a chocolate cookie and pretending to be studying. She’s got her laptop open and her notebook, but she’s watching music videos instead. “Not like the guys asking me out.”

  “Hawk?”

  “That’s the one. Was there another? When are you seeing him again?”

  I press my lips together and pretend, in my turn, to be engrossed in the statistics book I’m supposed to be reading.

  “Laylay.”

  “Hm?”

  “Hasn’t he called you since last week?”

  Actually, it’s been ten days. I did text him once, a few days ago, but he didn’t reply. I’m totally out of my element here. No clue what I’m supposed to do. After all, we’re not together. Although we’ve been meeting for three months now, in hotels and places owned by friends of his, I can’t demand to see him. Don’t even dare ask what he’s doing when he’s not with me.

  He said he’s not sleeping with other girls, and I have to trust him. Checking the internet every day isn’t healthy.

  I do it, of course. Haven’t found any incriminating evidence, though. No pics of him with girls, no gossip.

  That means nothing, of course, since there’s no evidence about him being with me, either.

  Which leads me to question my sanity for letting him inside me without a condom every time. I just… want him. Like crazy.

  Stupid, Layla.

  Then again… he’s taking a risk with me, too. And I doubt he stalks me on the internet, like I am doing. Like I’ve been refusing to do this past week.

  No more stalking for me.

  “Layla. Is everything okay?” Dorothy is staring at me.

  Whoops. “Yeah, sorry. No, he hasn’t called me.”

  “Maybe it’s because of what’s been going on with his friend?”

  “Friend?”

  “This Jordan guy. Like, he totally vanished from the face of the earth two years ago and Hawk has traveled to Mexico based on rumors that he went there.”

  You kidding me? I stop checking the internet for six days and I miss this? In Mexico. Probably drinking tequila with some chick in a pool.

  Damn.

  ***

  “See you in an hour, babe,” Hawk says, and I disconnect the call, lying back on my bed.

  I put down my phone and stare at the far wall of my bedroom. I should be happy he’s back from Mexico and calling me to meet up. We have fun together, if nothing else, and my body is already tingling when I think of him. Of how he makes me feel.

  How he makes me come.

  But God, I wish I had a real boyfriend sometimes. Someone I can share real stuff with. Someone I can call in the middle of the night to talk about my fears, and hopes, someone who will cuddle me and make me hot chocolate when I feel blue.

  “What you need,” Dorothy says, wandering into my room, “is new lingerie. Tall, Blond and Sexy will appreciate it.” She sinks down on the bed beside me. “I overheard your call. That a problem? “

  “Nope. No problem.”

  “Then why the long face?”

  “You know why.”

  Dorothy’s expression softens. “Is that about what the doc told you?”

  I nod and put my socked feet on the wall.

  “It’s going to be fine, sweetie,” she says.

  And I don’t see how. “You’re right.”

  “Besides, you said Hawk isn’t the guy you want to spend your life with.”

  I said that.

  She copies my pose—lying on her back, putting her socked feet on the wall. Her socks have tiny dinosaurs on them. “He’s a playboy millionaire and not interested in relationships. You want a guy who will understand you, and think long-term with you.”

  But all this doesn’t change what the doc said and how my life will never be the same. “I hate this.”

  “There are options in life, Laylay. Don’t overthink this. And look at it on the bright side. No need to take the pill anymore!”

  “Yay me,” I mumble, and my eyes burn.

  “Oh baby girl.” Dorothy turns and throws an arm over me. Her dark eyes are inches from mine. “Don’t let this get you down. We will go and see more specialists, okay? And I was kidding about the pill. I mean, use protection, right? Always.”

  I nod again, because she’s right. I’m just still in shock. “Hawk and I, we’re exclusive. At least, he says we are.”

  “Okay then. Chin up. I love you, girl.”

  “Love you, too.” I sniffle. “Marry me, Dodo? You’re the best.”

  She snorts. “Go and have hot sex with your man. Hot sex is like going to the spa. It will make you feel better.”

  God, yeah. Sadly, though, I doubt it will be enough… Maybe it’s me, maybe I’m changing. I’m over Chance, have been for a while, I know I’m not frigid in bed, I know I love sex… and I want more. More from a guy than that.

  And that’s exactly what sexy, handsome, rich and distant Jamie Hawk Fleming can’t give me.

  ***

  His tall shape astride the motorcycle is by now familiar. I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks, though, and it feels both like yesterday and months since I last met him.

  Since I last took in his beautiful face, his strong body that I am so intimate with. In my mind’s eye, I see every ridge of muscle, every drop of ink on his skin.

  My own body clenches with desire just from the sight of him waiting, just from the memory. I’m primed for him. It’s an automatic response.

  No idea why my heart leaps, too, as if excited. This is a carnal thing, I remind myself. Purely sexual. We’re having fun. I’m learning what turns me on, what makes me come.

  He turns me on.

  Shaking my head at myself, I walk over to him and his gaze on me sends heat into my cheeks—like every single time.

  “God, I missed that blush,” he says, his voice so low it’s practically a growl, and I reach up to touch his face.

  His golden stubble is more pronounced. His hair is longer, falling in his eyes.

  “So… Mexico, huh?” His stubble is softer now, as it’s turning into a short beard. “Did you find your friend?”

  A shadow passes behind his bright eyes. “Nope. But I’ll find him. He’s hiding.”

  “Why?”

  One of his broad shoulders rolls in a shrug. “Sometimes having money makes life fucking hard. More dangerous.” He’s silent for a moment, regarding me. “I know how this sounds. Being poor is much harder, I know. And dangerous in other, more subtle ways. But money means bullets.”

  I frown. “But why?”

  I don’t want anything happening to Hawk. A shiver shakes me at the thought.

  “The why doesn’t matter.” He leans his cheek into my hand and gives me a puppy look. “I missed you, babe.”

  “It’s Layla,” I say, pulling my hand away. Sometimes he acts all sweet and snuggly, and I need to put some distance between us, because I want this.

  I want to be like that with him. Like a couple.

  But that’s not us, and I love his darker side, I remind myself. I love the hard, hot sex and his floggers and paddles and all the ways he loses control with me.

  Hawk isn’t cuddly. He’s not boyfriend material, no matter how much I want to think he is. He’s kept true to his initial promise.

  So when he pulls a small box from one of his leather jacket pockets, I don’t know what to think. Surely… Nah.

  No.

  No way.

  And I’m right. Taking the box in my trembling hands, unable to read anything on his handsome, smirking face, I open it to find a fine bracelet inside.

  It looks silver, but of course the inscription inside the box
lets me know it’s platinum. It’s made up of several flat, fine chains that shimmer under the street lights.

  “Like it?” he asks.