Filthy Love

by V. Theia

  That simple.

  Fuck. He really was a dumb motherfucker. His hand stole up to his beard. He frowned. Had it always been this long and shabby? When was the last time he even trimmed it? Months. Maybe last year. He ripped off his leather gloves, shoving them into his pocket, he brushed a hand over his equally long head of hair and scowled further.

  Fuck it all, he probably looked like a vagrant you’d find in the underpass begging for whiskey.

  And then she was there, pulling open the door, making his chest cave in seeing her in white shorts against her tanned legs. The little vest top was the same color melded to perfect tits, and her hair piled on top of her head.

  She looked at him and flashed a little smile.

  “Are you just going to sit there glaring at my house all night or do you want to come in?”

  Her energy was like gasoline in his veins.

  Powering him up off the bike, throwing a leg over the seat he shoved keys in his pocket and prowled forward to hear this mysterious purpose.

  “What’s this all about?” He asked once in distance to see the widening of her eyes.

  “Wow,” Gia laughed. “You really don’t have any manners, do you? Come on inside, I made coffee.” Reprimanded, with a slight tinge of guilt … weird … he stepped over the threshold, following behind as he shut the door with him inside Gia’s house.

  Her smile worked to unknot the black chain that swathed around his heart. The sense of falling and spiralling melded into one. How could the small rise of her mouth create so much chaos in his mind? Oh, yeah. He was a fucking headcase and anything regarding Gia sent both mind and body into a tailspin of need.

  His skin pulled tight at her unyielding stare.

  He craved more.

  He did lack manners. He was a fucking pig most of the time. The rest he was sleeping and having depraved dreams about the woman dumping a coffee pod into a mini trash can on the granite countertop. “I’m glad you came.” She handed him a white mug rimmed with pink hearts. He frowned at it before accepting the cup.

  Their fingers brushed.

  He was on fire.

  Her skin would be so soft, if he reached out and brushed her wrist over the thin blue veins. The need for it almost caused him to jolt in his boots. His teeth would bruise that perfect skin if they ever got the chance to sink in and taste her.

  Sick.

  Depraved.

  Evil.

  Inhaling, he took a scalding sip of coffee to tame the riot of filth in his head. Frowning into the cup, he swallowed. She knew how he liked his coffee. “Your brother wouldn’t like me in your place.” He spoke finally. And spoke the truth.

  It didn’t seem to faze Gia who huffed, walking around him, her body just about skimmed him again though her kitchen was a fair size. Very feminine. Very her. He walked over to the fridge and peered at the photo’s stuck on the front with cartoon pig magnets. Gia skiing. Gia in a bikini. Gia in a pair of tight, skinny jeans. Gia in a pair of white cut off short-shorts. Jesus fuck.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed.

  Hawk about swallowed his tongue.

  “That’s my inspiration to lose the holiday weight. I think If I see what I used to look like it’ll stop me face planting into the hummus and pitta chips.”

  Hawk rounded, face fixed into a glare, snaking his eyes up and down the only woman he hungered for and didn’t see one fucking flaw on her. Not an inch of her body would he change.

  He scowled and spat out before he could train his tongue to shut the fuck up. “You must be blind; your body is perfect.”

  You, dumb motherfucker, shut up.

  She turned pink instantly and smiled so big he worried her skin would be stretched too tightly. Burying his idiot mouth in coffee, he gulped the too hot liquid.

  “Thank you. I shouldn’t obsess about it, it’s such a woman thing to do, but what you gonna do. I like to be motivated for things.” It made sense. It was a Gia thing. “Getting back to what you said, I don’t care if Rider knows you’re here. What does he think you’d do, chop me up and bury me in the yard?” It was a fair point. Still, he knew the real Rider more than most and he would make Hawk look like swiss cheese if he ever caught a whiff of Hawk’s interest towards his sister.

  “Your old man wouldn’t be too pleased either,” that coercing asshole. “So why don’t you let me know what it is you need. I’m guessing if you’re asking me it’s nothing legal.” He’d do it. He’d do anything for her so long as she spat it out quickly, so he could leave.

  Gia snorted a laugh so cute making lines appear between her eyes he wanted to scoop her up and make her laugh some more just, so he could watch that look pass over her face.

  “Are all bikers as suspicious as you? Don’t answer that.” She grinned and gestured for him to follow her. “Let’s get comfortable in the other room. I swear today has been one problem after another and I’m ready to drop.”

  Hawk frowned, the urge to ask her what had troubled her was strong. You can’t fix her problems, dickhead.

  “Why are you so concerned with my family having an issue with you being inside my home, Hawk?” She inquired smoothly while he hovered in the doorway of a much larger room, big windows down one end, two over-stuffed pale gray couches full of cushions facing one another, along with a recliner in the same color and a wooden unit holding the usual media stuff on the main wall. It was decorated in muted colors, but the accents were all Gia. Bold and colorful, he thought. Happy colors. All Gia.

  It felt part nightmare part dream he was inside her house looking at her things, smelling what her house smelled like.

  “They know what I am. No father or brother wants me around their girl.” He answered coolly, ignoring the way she was staring at him, as he set his gaze around the room, stopping on family photos gathered on a table. Her and Rider as kids. Six pictures of Rider’s new kid, some of Zara and Gia. Some of people he didn’t recognize. His eyes narrowed seeing a group photo of happy people in a line, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, two dickheads either side of Gia were men.

  Who the fuck are those walking corpses? He deliberated.

  “So, do I, and I extend an invitation to my house whenever you want to come.” She told him cheerfully. It was as though she wasn’t picking up on his warnings.

  She was wrong. She didn’t know him at all. Her attempts over the years to be friendly usually only went so far, he wouldn’t allow it any further. The moment she started asking questions he couldn’t answer he either backed off or he chased her away by being the nasty prick he was.

  Why she kept on coming back he didn’t know.

  Did she realize the power she had? Probably not, if she did she’d wield it and have him like a fucking lapdog at her service and wouldn’t he just hate that.

  No.

  If he was gonna be led like a dog on a short fucking leash he’d happily do it for Gia morning, noon and all fucking night if that was what would make her happy.

  Dumping the coffee cup on the same table with all the photos, he edged himself further into the room, pushing his hands into the pockets of his leather duster coat, he ambled around the space, looking at this, peering at that. She didn’t explain what things were, just let him appraise silently until he turned back to find her eyes on him.

  He cocked a quizzical brow.

  Her breath hitched for a flash, but then she stabilized herself.

  “How would you feel if you and I got to know each other better, Hawk? Spent time together talking and hanging out. I’d really like it, if I’m honest and I want us to be honest.” She snorted that cute laugh again. Not feminine, but he loved the sound. She’d curled her legs under her on the couch and didn’t seem to mind he remained standing in the middle of the room looking like an out of place lamp post.

  So, fucking out of place his skin was crawling to get out of there.

  To go back to what he knew by watching her like a perverted creeper.

  This whole being invited in shit made h
im uncomfortable and calm at the same fucking time.

  He didn’t know whether he was coming or going.

  Wait. What?

  What the fuck did she just say? His ears clanged. He glared and why the fuck wasn’t she cowering from his glare? Everyone did. Men pissed themselves if Hawk glared because they knew what shit was coming next.

  “How would I feel if we spent time together?” He slow-blinked, repeating her words back to make sense of them.

  You’re my dream.

  I want to crawl inside your skin and see how you taste from the inside.

  I could spend a decade just listening to you sigh like that.

  Spend time? Give me every fucking minute and I’ll worship you like the sick, depraved bastard I am.

  He couldn’t find the words to reply.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “This was the worst kind of punked…” - Hawk

  Hawk could sense in what direction this was heading when the air shifted under him making him lightheaded and he was powerless to stop it.

  Beat after beat blood pounded through his rushing ears.

  Get out.

  Get the fuck out.

  She was untainted, and he had irremovable stains.

  He wanted her. Not that he deserved her.

  She would have been better asking him to kill someone. That much he could handle.

  “Is it such a hard question?” All signs of her joy slipped off her face the longer he kept Gia waiting for an answer. Before he knew it, she left her seat and was standing in front of him. Close enough to touch. Close enough that if he reached out with his nasty hands he could have them snaked under her tiny shirt that hid nothing from his eyes, seeing clearly the outline of her hard nipples.

  “I’m going to move my practice to Colorado, so I can be closer to my brother, Zara and the baby.” She went on.

  Hawk stared, closing her out just for a second. It was a split second he needed on hearing how near she would be if she did relocate.

  Jesus god, he would be driven mad.

  She went on like she didn’t know just how much of a brain bleed she was giving him.

  “I just thought it would be nice if we could spend time together. You always seem to be running away.” She edged a little smile. Shy and sweet.

  He'd always known if he were this near to Gia it would break out both of their beasts. Only, hers has always been the more powerful when it had him wanting to come to heel, to do anything she wanted, to offer up his battered soul for her own keeping.

  He'd known it and that's what kept him skulking through the shadows, watching her from afar, not deserving her, because the moment she was right there in touching distance, all his neurons got twisted up and what he'd lived by for ten years went by the wayside.

  Rules he'd put in place for himself; don't want the little bit of a thing. It was easy enough yet found it the hardest to adhere to. Something in his brain ... in his chest fought against the rule.

  Don't touch her.

  You can't offer yourself to her for whatever she needs.

  Every rule shit the bed and became obsolete the second she was right there, her beautiful beast in charge. He never quite got used to the buzzing in his belly when she was near. Sometimes it was an addiction, he had to answer to its call, just move closer, it would whisper. Other times, like now, his feet were urging him to fucking move, to get out of there before that thing pounding in his chest got him into trouble.

  Why can’t I have her?

  Not good enough. Was always the answer.

  Because you were destroyed. Was always the follow up. And as much of a selfish, uncaring prick Hawk was, Gia was the one person to somehow have climbed under the spikes of his soul, to make him care whether he hurt her, used her, damaged her in any way with his body and fucked up mind. She was the only one he could leash his selfish wants for.

  “No,” he croaked out from around the boulder in his throat. “Are you insane?” His voice was pure fucking rust. “You’re the head shrink, you don’t say shit like that to the likes of me. I’m manipulative, incapable of remorse. Is that the kind of person you want around you?”

  The hands hanging loosely at his sides clenched and released, itchy to grab her. As it was his traitorous feet moved him forward until he towered over her, his head anchored down as she looked up.

  He was a sick fucking animal.

  Leave her alone.

  He couldn’t.

  God, her lips were perfect and pouty. He wanted to know if she still tasted the same.

  Of strawberry Chapstick and heaven.

  There was nothing clean in the way he looked at her. With a mix of awe and filthy lust. I’m a sick man. And growing gravely ill by the day.

  She edged her chin up, a silent challenge in her eyes, hurt splashed in her expression before it was schooled. He almost laughed. She had no clue the possession she held over his sanity and somehow it calmed him down.

  He’d expected her to roar a form of refusal at him being so close to her. What beauty would want Hawk within millimetres of them and not protest? But she didn't, she arched her slim neck, meeting his stare, unable to force his feet to move because his fucking useless, pathetic soul was panting like a happy puppy at being so near, he could barely contain himself to not reach out and run a fingertip down her silky cheek to see if she was as soft in person as she was in his fantasies.

  “Why do you hate me?” She asked suddenly in a hurt, quivering tone.

  Her stubborn chin would be damn funny if he wasn't so horny. So, fucking horny. His cock was practically cutting itself in half behind the zipper teeth.

  Hate her? She had to recognize how tightly wound she had him? Maybe his scowl wasn't properly conveying it.

  He was equally disgusted in his own behavior and wildly approving of it. The entire ride here he’d berated how stupid he was, to grab onto any second of time from Gia that he’d pretend he could have it all.

  Hate her? She must be insane. He grimaced. Cleared his throat. Unable to drag his eyes from her face. Hate her? If only she knew.

  Touch her.

  Taste her.

  Fuck her on the floor.

  His mind screamed an argument with his body and he ignored both mind and dick.

  He was crazy.

  Her breaths came in shallow flutters as the skin along her chest and neck turned a matching pink to the shade on her cheeks. Arousal. That much he could recognize. He always knew when a woman had designs to fuck him.

  Surprising them both, his forehead dropped to hers gently and he breathed in her evocative scent briefly before gruffly saying, “I don’t hate you.”

  Far from it. Obsessed. Hooked.

  Choppy breaths steamed in and out of his chest.

  Back the fuck up, idiot. You can’t be this close to her.

  It was as though he didn’t hear himself. And Gia was no better. Why the fuck wasn’t she pushing him away, allowing him to be up in her shit, smelling her hair. How utterly stunning was she? “You have to be the one to back up, little bit. My feet are...stuck.” He didn't want her to see the bulge in his pants. If she moved, he could swerve around and stalk off leaving her none the wiser to the power she wielded over his body.

  Her siren ways would be yet again thwarted.

  Color fused the top of her bone perfect cheeks and she gave him the most stunning smile he’d ever witnessed. “You haven’t called me that since I was younger.” Hawk lifted his head, puzzlement at his mistake creasing his brow, heating his skin. Fuck.

  She was wrong though. He referred to that nickname all the time. In Hawk’s mind she was only ever his little bit of a thing. The kid to have gotten under his skin ten years ago, and to this day she was still embedded in his bones.

  “Don’t you think avoiding me, being vicious in how you dismiss any conversation I start with you has gone on long enough, Hawk? We’re adults and when I live in Armado Springs we’re gonna run in to each other a lot. I thought maybe we could begin now.”r />
  She expressed so innocently. So sweetly.

  She had the hottest sex voice Hawk ever heard before. He caught it in the tones the first time she spoke to him and it almost knocked him on his fucking ass because for fucks sake it was Rider’s seventeen-year-old sister. He heard it now and it’s no less powerful to his system shaking at its core. It’s the kind of voice that wrapped around his dick and tugged hard until he was left debilitated. Hawk could only imagine -and he has a lot- just how she’d sound under him, crying out from a back breaking orgasm.

  Prickly heat filled his belly as easy as helium.

  “Why are you doing this?” Anyone would need to be bent in the head to want to spend time with Hawk. “I’m not worth it.”

  She made that sound. Her laughing snort. “Men,” whatever that meant. He frowned so hard. “Define, worth. You are such an honorable man, Hawk. Whether you believe it or not.”

  He needed out of this house. He needed to be anywhere that wasn’t surrounded in Gia and all her Gia things because with every inhale, he took her into his lungs, stirring his madness like she was making a fucking soup with his intestines and heart.

  But he was a weak fucking man as his tongue proved.

  His breathed a sigh of relief, eyelids closing.

  “Okay.” He muttered. At least if she knew him, the real him, and how fucking perverted he was when it came to her, if Gia only saw a slither of it, she would stop him from loving her.

  “Okay?” Her squeak almost pierced his ears and her fingers gripped onto his shirt causing his eyeballs to ping open at the point of contact, his heart sped up like she was handling his cock instead of gripping only his clothes.

  Looking back there was not one single fucking second break of him agreeing to when Gia almost plowed him down and laid her lips on his. When in real time, she only raised up on her toes and pressed herself lightly into his chest, but Hawk’s dead soul came alive like fire had lit his touch paper.

  That first touch of lips.

  Her breath in his mouth.

  That one touch poleaxed him.