Heart of Steel: Steel Hawk, Book 2

by Eve Devon

  “You’re wondering if you’ve been manipulated into jumping out of the frying pan into the fire,” she realized.

  He nodded. “Also, I can’t rule out that I might have been led deliberately to the wrong fire—that in fact this doesn’t have anything to do with Zarrenburg and is solely about Steel Hawk.”

  “The place you’re now thousands of miles from,” she sympathized.

  “In some ways, I hope I’m right on that score. I would prefer to think I’ve led you away from danger than into a potentially dangerous situation.”

  “You know, I’ve seen the hours of work you’ve been putting in, how little sleep you’ve had. Is it possible you’ve lost perspective on this?”

  “Is that really what you think?” he asked, standing up straight, his eyebrows rising so that she almost smiled at the intrinsic show of arrogance.

  “Okay—I don’t think you’ve lost perspective,” she observed. In fact, she thought it highly unlikely. Yes, Steel Hawk was everything to him. But his work meant he had to be able to think outside the box and weigh logic with gut instinct. If he thought something was going on at Steel Hawk, then it probably was.

  He rubbed a hand over the back of his head, and she itched to soothe the tight muscles there.

  Shaking his head ruefully, he said, “I don’t know about Edward. In the same way I don’t know about anyone.”

  “Not even me?” She couldn’t believe the words had left her mouth. “Actually, scratch that.” She looked down. She didn’t want to see it in his face. See him struggle. Have to acknowledge it outright.

  “Honeysuckle.” She felt the air displace around her and shivered. He’d moved to stand in front of her and still she couldn’t look up. When his hands came up to cup her face and tilt her head back for his gaze, she had no choice but to open her eyes and look. “You’re not ‘anyone’. I trust you.”

  Honeysuckle searched his face and saw the truth. She was willing to bet he hadn’t said that to anyone in a very long time. Her hand lifted to rest against his shirt, forefinger rubbing idly back and forth over one of the small, smooth black buttons while she waited for him to decide where they went from there.

  Chapter Twelve

  Adam inhaled. “I need you to get back on a plane and get out of here.”

  Caught between him and the bedpost, Honeysuckle reacted instantly to him wanting her out of the way. “Forget it. I’m not leaving you—leaving here. I came to help, and I’m not going back on that.” Refusing to break eye contact, she used her fingers against his chest to push home her point. “Whatever happens, I’m not running away from this.”

  His jaw set hard.

  “It’s sweet of you to worry, though,” she said with a smile and then saw the second he decided to change tactics.

  “Tomorrow I need to be able to concentrate on getting that diamond secured in the case. I can’t afford to become distracted”—he stroked his thumb over her lower lip—“by this.”

  “You won’t,” she whispered, employing a few of her own tactics as she leaned forward to press a kiss to the underside of that gorgeously strong jaw. “And tomorrow is hours away.” Her lips moved to the corner of his mouth, where she placed another kiss, her mouth curving when he groaned, turned, and met her halfway.

  In a heartbeat, he took control, sweeping in with his tongue to taste her. Sending her heart into hip-hop-dancing acrobatics as everything narrowed down to this one vital point in time.

  She hadn’t even known her clever fingers had set about unbuttoning his shirt until she felt hard, sculpted planes beneath her palms.

  Moaning into his mouth, she swept her hands greedily over the broad, ripped chest she’d been dreaming about ever since he’d caught her wandering around his place, eating Oreos. At the scrape of her fingertips over his pecs, Adam’s mouth left hers and his hands went to the sides of his shirt to rip it free from his waistband and off. Balling it up, he tossed it over his shoulder.

  Honeysuckle smiled as her hand went to the zip on her dress. She watched his eyes follow the motion of her hand slowly dragging down the zipper. With a shrug of her shoulders, the dress slipped off to form a silk puddle at her feet, leaving her standing in matching wine-colored satin underwear.

  She let him look at her.

  Loved seeing the blue of his eyes almost disappearing completely as his pupils dilated. Loved seeing the flush of want riding high on his cheekbones.

  Loved that all that delicious intensity he poured into his work was now directed solely at her.

  Loved.

  “If we do this,” she said, her voice low and hesitant, “I don’t deserve to have you pretend it didn’t happen afterwards.”

  Silence.

  His gaze moved from her body to her face.

  Nerves spread as she watched him assimilate her words.

  She might have removed her clothes for an audience as part of an act, but exposing herself to Adam was so much more—meant so much more, because no way could she separate the physical from the emotional with him. She wasn’t going to have that thrown back in her face, or, worse, not even acknowledged by the man she held in such high esteem.

  He lifted his hand to her face. When he stroked the hair back from her temple, she thought she could feel a slight tremble in his hand. Slowly, he leaned in to place a kiss under her cheekbone. “I wouldn’t do that to you,” he whispered, gliding his lips back up to her temple to kiss away the frown. “Couldn’t.” He lifted his head and gazed down into her eyes.

  His sincerity took her breath away and had her blinking slowly in acceptance, a soft smile playing on her mouth.

  “Want to put your hands back on me now?” he ordered gruffly, making her smile turn wicked as she laid her fingertips against his abs and let them undulate freely over muscle that felt like it had been forged out of steel. When her hands reached the waistband of his tux pants, Adam placed his hands over hers to halt their movement. “My turn,” he said, grinning. Taking her hands in his, he stretched them high over her head until they rested against the bedpost.

  “Are you comfortable holding this position for a while?” he asked into her ear, his fingertips stroking against the pulse points in her wrists.

  Drowning in response, it was all she could do to nod.

  Adam’s hands slid down, and everywhere his fingertips stroked, his lips followed. Honeysuckle rested her head back against the bedpost, her eyes rolling shut to better savor the sensation of Adam. Of his mouth at her collarbone, the slope of her breast, one of her nipples as his fingers pulled back the cup of her bra so he could take her into his mouth.

  Heat.

  She was enveloped in intense pulsing heat as he released the front catch on her bra, separated the cups, and then lavished attention on her other breast.

  Such attention to detail.

  Her mouth opened. Her breath shortened.

  “Your body is so completely incredible,” Adam muttered as his mouth fluttered down her rib cage and over her abdomen, making her stretch languidly against the bedpost and then tighten her hands against the wood as need rolled through deep.

  And then he was on his knees in front of her, and she was reminded of the time he’d told her there would only be one reason he’d get down on his knees for her…and without him having to utter a word, she was placing her feet farther apart for him.

  Wanting.

  Needing.

  Loving.

  Adam stroked his hands from her ankles all the way up to the tops of her thighs, where his fingers flexed. Anticipation took her close to orgasm before he’d even touched her with his mouth, so that when she felt his hot breath against her inner thigh, it elicited a tremble she couldn’t control. But instead of soothing, he sought to learn more, excite further. Trailing those clever and capable fingers of his in lazy circles from the backs of her knees and around and all the way up her
inner thighs until she was so primed she was prepared to beg.

  And then she didn’t have to, because he was opening his mouth on her, and the first touch of his tongue against her core set her aflame, making her body bow and flex against him.

  The moan she’d been holding in released on a shuddering breath, and as quickly as she filled her lungs with air again, she was letting out another moan and another. One hand dropped from the bedpost to clutch against his head as he licked, lapped, and sucked her into intense orgasm.

  With her body singing, she rode out the storm, writhing until the last aftershock as Adam kissed his way back up her body, dipping his mouth into the shallows at her collarbone, up her neck and across to her mouth where he kissed her over and over and over.

  His hands came up to cradle her face.

  Hers curled over his biceps.

  She pulled him in close, luxuriating in the fit of his body against hers, and as her thigh lifted high against his hip and she felt him move against her, she moaned his name into his ear.

  Adam’s hands moved to her hips to squeeze. “I might have had a dream about this.”

  “I might have had more than one,” she confessed and watched the surprise dance in his eyes.

  Grinning, he pushed the hair back off her face and asked, “Did any of those dreams involve you having condoms handy?”

  She grinned back. “Let me introduce you to the wonders of reality.”

  Twisting away from him, she moved to delve into the cosmetics bag she’d taken out of the bathroom earlier because the light over the dressing table had been better.

  She withdrew a foil packet and held it aloft triumphantly, giggling as he walked over to her and peered inside her bag. “You got more of those in there.”

  “I might.”

  “Hmm.” His expression became considering as he brushed a fingertip over her lower lip. “How efficient,” he murmured, watching his finger trail next to her shoulder. “Practical,” he added, smiling as his fingertip moved to graze a nipple that beaded with renewed excitement. “Organized,” he finished as his fingertip drew a line down her breasts to her abdomen.

  “Hmm,” Honeysuckle agreed, reaching out with her hand to trail her fingertips over his chest, “speaking of efficient, practical, and organized”—her fingers went to the button of his pants and slipped it open—“you seem to be wearing more than me.” She dragged the zipper down. Smiled when his hands joined hers to help and smiled ever further when she took the hot, hard length of him in her hand. She stroked up and down experimentally, and when he shuddered and his jaw jutted and then closed on an intense exhale of breath, she loved that she was able to do that to him.

  He let her learn what he liked for a few more strokes and then wrapped his hand over hers. “We’re going to have to save that until next time. Right now I want inside you so damn bad it’s killing me.”

  Grabbing the condom, he ripped open the packet and sheathed himself. Honeysuckle lowered herself to the bed, and when he followed, settling between her legs, she wanted nothing more than to feel him inside of her too.

  Wanted desperately to know the reality of him and her together. Not in a dream or fantasy. But real.

  Cocooned in his arms, surrounded by the heat of him, she felt safer and surer of what she was doing than she had ever felt in her life.

  Pushing up on his hands, he stared intently down into her face and slowly, exquisitely entered her. He pulled out and stroked back in, and she bit back another moan.

  What he made her feel was devastatingly nowhere-to-hide raw.

  That was the reality of him.

  That was what was real.

  On a chuff of breath, he said, “We fit so damn good,” and watching her, started to move faster.

  “So damn good,” she agreed, staring back up at him as her body moved.

  His head dropped down, his forehead resting against hers as he plunged deeper, harder, faster.

  Her mind loved all that tight control of his, but as her body tightened in preparation for flying out of itself, it was her heart that wanted to know he was going to fly just as high. She tightened her inner muscles around him. Swept her hands over the superb musculature of his back. “Let go, Adam. Let go with me.”

  He groaned and thrust into her, his hands reaching back to grab at hers and bring them to either side of her head. With hands clasped, fingers gripping, they moved against each other until the sky burst open, the stars rained down, and something incredible was forged in the fire they created.

  * * * * *

  Honeysuckle lay dragging breath into her lungs as she tried to compute the power of what happened. It had been… She swallowed. Maybe it would be better to lie here and not think. Emotion would have her throat closing, and she didn’t want Adam to see her vulnerable. She listened to him breathing hard as he lay on his back beside her.

  As she tried to scatter her thoughts to the four corners of her mind, Adam rose up on an elbow to stare down at her.

  After what they had shared there was nowhere she could hide.

  She turned her head to look up at him, forcing herself to check for any sign of regret so she would know what she was dealing with.

  Only one emotion registered.

  Shell shock.

  “So that was pretty—”

  “Epic,” she supplied, using the only word that seemed to fit.

  “Yeah. Epic,” he agreed.

  She smiled and snuggled into his side. When he reached out to toy with the Steel Hawk key still dangling from her neck, she shivered and drew the covers up to her midriff.

  “Can I ask you a question?” he said, his voice idly inquisitive.

  “If it’s ‘Can we do that again’, I’m going to need a minute.”

  His grin was automatic, putting a happy little punch in a heart that had already had a thorough workout. “Oh, we’re definitely going to be doing that again,” he assured her, his thumb tracing the engravings on the barrel of her key. “Actually, I was going to ask if you enjoyed dancing burlesque.”

  In the afterglow of him and her, it was easy for the answers to simply fall from her lips. “I enjoyed becoming another character—becoming Raven Delight. I’d always danced, from a kid and all through college, so it was easy to segue into burlesque. But it was only ever a rebellion. A chance to be someone else before—” She stopped and stroked her hand over the heavy embroidery of the bedspread.

  “Before?” Adam prompted softly.

  “Before it became apparent that in the long term, I didn’t want to do burlesque dancing any more than I wanted to do all the other jobs I’ve tried.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever find something you want long-term?”

  Something or someone?

  To avoid dwelling on the “someone”, she deflected. “Did you always know you wanted to work at Steel Hawk?”

  She felt a quick reactionary tug against her neck as his hand tightened around the Steel Hawk key and the chain tightened.

  “No and yes,” he said, surprising her. He shot her a quick look and went back to concentrating on her key. “When I graduated, I was younger than my peers, and, arrogantly, I wanted to be able to bring something to the Steel Hawk table. I wanted to have made a reputation for good design in a different company, or out on my own. I wanted Steel Hawk to want my work. Not for the fact my name fit.”

  “I can understand that. The names come with big shoes to fill.” She knew exactly how it felt when you didn’t fill them, didn’t fulfill your potential.

  Turning on her side to face him, she rose up on her elbow too. “So how come you ended up working for Steel Hawk straight out of the gates anyway?”

  Adam frowned down at the key he still held in his hand. “An opportunity I was following up was—taken away from me.”

  For a moment, he looked as if he were being chas
ed by demons, and wanting to soothe, she said, “Well, their loss was Steel Hawk’s gain. I can’t think of anyone else in your field who has achieved more.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Thank you. You didn’t ever have one burning desire to do something in particular when you were growing up?”

  “Maybe.” She breathed deep. “I studied jewelry design at FIT.”

  “Wow. That was so not on your résumé,” he chided gently. “So what happened? Why is it only a hobby and not what you’re doing?”

  Honeysuckle stared down at his hand rubbing over her key. “Because I’m not good enough. I overheard my tutor telling a jewelry house who had been interested in hiring me after graduation that he thought I’d peaked—hadn’t produced anything better than my first-year work.”

  “And that was that?”

  “In the end, it was. For a while, I tried desperately to prove him wrong. But it was like the harder I tried, the worse my designs got. Then, I’d get halfway through a piece and inspiration would strike and I would start another. Finally I realized all I was doing was lurching from one project to another.” With a sigh, she tapped the top of the Steel Hawk key. “I wish I could have designed like Rose Hawk. She was so amazing with what she achieved. Her designs seem—” She broke off to search for the right word.

  “Limitless?” Adam supplied.

  “Absolutely. Limitless.” Kind of like his designs, she thought with pride.

  “What do you think these symbols on the key mean?” Adam asked.

  Honeysuckle sat up slightly to unclasp the chain from around her neck and inspect the key closer. “Neither Mom nor Dad knew when I asked them.”

  Adam sat fully upright. “At first I thought it was the Steel Hawk motto repeated.”

  “No, the motto runs up one side of the key’s shank, but the two symbols that repeat down the other side are also stamped onto the back of the Steel Hawk emblem. I used to think maybe it was something to do with the hawk and the globe, but I never found anything in any Steel Hawk reference about Rose Hawk’s designs that included a tree.”