Down & Dirty_Hawk

by Jeanne St. James

  “Don’t have to imagine what I look like naked. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

  Kiki closed her eyes and sucked in air slowly, counting to ten. And when she was finished, she realized she was no longer considering it. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  She was doing it.

  Fuck it.

  She only saw his look of shock for a split second before she strode forward, leaving him frozen in place behind her.

  She smiled and headed to the visitor’s parking lot and to her car with determination.

  When life hands you lemons...

  And all that crap.

  When she got to her car, she turned to wait for him, wondering how he was going to fold his bulk into her Corvette Z06.

  “Fuck me,” Hawk muttered, stopping feet from her little red Corvette and staring at it.

  “Just so you know, your club will be helping me make the payments on that.” She dug into her black leather briefcase, searching for her keyless remote.

  “Then I drive.”

  Without looking up she said, “No.”

  As soon as her fingers snagged it, he pulled it from her fingers. “No woman drives me. Whenever me an’ you are in a cage, I’m drivin’. Not an argument. Fact.”

  “Cage?”

  “Yeah.” He jerked his chin toward the Vette. “That ain’t a cage to you, but one to me. But I’ll suffer through drivin’ that sweet thing, then I’ll be drivin’ into somethin’ that’s even sweeter.”

  She bit back a whimper and squeezed her thighs together. What was wrong with her? There had been plenty of times where men whistled or cat-called at her or said some perverted, stomach-churning things, but she’d never reacted like this.

  Not once.

  And now she had to get into close quarters with him. In her tight sports car. Why the hell did she ever buy that car?

  He surprised her by opening the passenger door and offering his hand. She stared at his broad palm and long fingers. His tattoos stopped abruptly at both wrists like the cuff on a sleeve.

  “Not gonna bite you.”

  She lifted her eyes to him.

  “Okay, yeah I am. But not now.” Then he laughed, which shot lightning down her spine and it landed right in her center, heating her belly.

  She’d lost her damn mind. That was the only thing she could think of when she wondered why she was reacting to him like this.

  She usually preferred men who wore suits and ties, polished shoes and expensive watches. Tailored dress shirts and pinstripes.

  Not worn, holey jeans, a Harley T-shirt that looked like the sleeves had been ripped off, a leather vest and—her gaze dropped—heavy biker boots with all kinds of buckles and zippers on them.

  Yes, she had lost her mind. Truly. Completely.

  She sighed, placed her hand in his and let him help her into the car.

  Chapter Three

  Kiki chewed her bottom lip. She had no idea where he was taking her. Normally she wouldn’t be afraid to ask, and even though she was in no way shy, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know.

  Maybe it would be easier to swallow if it was a surprise.

  Because, apparently, the man who had stuffed himself into her driver’s seat took his “appointment” with her very seriously. What had started out as a joke for her just to get him to cooperate, now wasn’t so much.

  However, the longer they drove, the more curious Kiki became on what it would be like to just let loose with someone like Hawk. It wasn’t like they traveled in the same circles, so no one would ever know. Plus, she was sick of men who were afraid to mess up their carefully styled and gelled hair during sex.

  She was bored with the so-called “gentlemen” she’d dated after the separation from her husband. Their conversation was mediocre at best since they tended to talk more about themselves and boast about their many successes. Even worse, their skills in bed were just so-so. Once again, even in bed, they were more worried about themselves rather than making sure she was also satisfied.

  Though, she couldn’t imagine the man sitting next to her cared about anything other than getting himself off, either. She turned her head just enough to eyeball his bulk.

  “Did you even graduate high school?”

  Without taking his eyes off the road, they crinkled at the corners and he barked out a laugh. “That a requirement to get into bed with you?”

  I don’t know, is it? She never thought about any “requirements” for a man who she had a relationship with, sexual or otherwise. But she did have some standards. She did tend to gravitate toward a certain type of man.

  However, the more she studied Hawk as he drove her car, the more she doubted he met any of those standards.

  “To answer your question, babe, yeah, I did.” He finally turned his head to meet her gaze. “Feel better?”

  No. No, she didn’t.

  When he turned into a short, paved driveway in front of a house in a town called Shadow Valley, which sat just southwest of Pittsburgh, she blinked.

  She leaned forward and looked closer at the small house through the windshield. It was well-taken care of with wood siding and painted shutters, a covered wood porch that ran the length of the front. It was a cute two-story cottage, or what some may call a bungalow, with dormers and everything. And surprise, surprise, it was in a really nice middle-class neighborhood.

  What. The. Hell. “Are you lost?”

  Pulling up next to the house in front of a detached, matching cottage-like, two-car garage, he put the car in park and shut off the engine.

  He shoved the driver’s door open and, with a curse and a groan, untwisted himself out of the low, cramped sports car. Then he leaned into the open doorway and gave her a look. “Stay put.”

  She did. He was probably just going to run inside to grab whatever from whomever owned this house and then off they’d go again to what he had called church, which was apparently the clubhouse where most of the members resided.

  But she watched in shock as he moved around the long, low front end of the Vette and came to the passenger side to open the door. He leaned in really close—like she was glad he smelled like soap and not like he’d just-done-a-ten-day-stint-in-County close—and unlatched her seat belt before offering her his big, meaty hand.

  She stared at it like she had no idea what it was.

  He shook it at her. “C’mon. Let’s get crackin’.”

  Her eyes traveled up his arm until she had to lean out a little bit to see his face, which clearly showed his impatience. “Why?”

  “Whataya mean why?”

  “Why am I getting out? Aren’t we headed to your place?”

  “So you wanna go back to my place?” His impatience quickly dissipated and he gave her a grin.

  Uh oh.

  “Well, I thought that was the plan...” Her voice drifted off when his whole face changed and his eyes darkened.

  “Yeah, babe, it is. Didn’t think you were all in. But now I see you are. Good to know.” He offered his hand again and this time she tentatively took it.

  Was she all in?

  With a grip that could easily crush her hand, he helped her out of the car, and before letting her go, he pulled her against his chest and wrapped his beefy arms around her, embracing her tightly.

  She automatically grabbed his biceps, her eyes dropping to his hard muscles as she squeezed them.

  Yes, she may just be all in. At least for tonight. Tomorrow she’d scrub him off and go back to her life.

  “So soft, babe,” he murmured in her ear as he palmed her hips, his breath fanning the hair by it.

  Her thighs quivered and she felt a traitorous rush of wetness. “And you’re so... hard.”

  He tilted his hips, brushing his denim-clad crotch against her, proving his muscles weren’t the only thing hard.

  Her breath caught in her throat and her heart began to pound. “Aren’t you anxious to get going?”

  Because if he wasn’t, she sure was. Or at least the lo
wer half of her body was.

  “We’ll go in the house in a sec.”

  “No, I meant back to your place.”

  He leaned back and stared down into her face. “Babe, this is my place.”

  Wait. What?

  “You don’t live at this ‘church’ Pannebaker told me about?”

  “Gotta room to crash there. That’s it. Got tired of that shit years ago. Bar does well, club coffers are full. Ain’t hurtin’.”

  Whatever all that meant. But even so... “I wasn’t expecting—”

  He released her abruptly and stepped back. His eyes narrowed and he gave her a sharp nod. “Right. Bikers like me can’t have nice things.” He tilted his head toward her car. “Like your Vette.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Like a house.”

  “I—”

  “Like you.”

  “Me?” she asked, her voice slightly higher than normal.

  “You,” he repeated. “Though that’s gonna change in a few.”

  “I wasn’t expecting this.” She glanced over her shoulder at the very normal looking house and then back at Hawk.

  “Expected me to be slummin’ it, huh? Some stained mattress with dirty sheets, or no sheets at all? Empty beer bottles an’ cans? Cloud of pot smoke? Bunch of drunk bikers scratchin’ their beer bellies an’ belchin’ with naked bitches runnin’ ‘round?”

  Umm. She decided to keep her mouth shut, but that actually was what she had expected.

  Her boss had been to their “church” a few times before and described it exactly like that.

  “Maybe you’re disappointed now you know you won’t be gettin’ as down an’ dirty as you thought. That take away the thrill?”

  “I... No. Sorry, I... shit.”

  She really didn’t expect this bad boy biker to live in this quaint little house in the ‘burbs of Shadow Valley. She had a tough time picturing him outside mowing the grass or weeding the flowerbeds.

  Without warning, she was against her car, his hands grasping both sides of her face as his head dropped and he took her mouth.

  He didn’t just kiss her. Hell no, he took her mouth. Like he was claiming it as his.

  His tongue pushed between her lips, shoving them open so he could take the kiss deeper, harder, and she swore he explored every part of her mouth.

  A sound bubbled up from her throat as he stole her breath.

  Damn, the man could kiss.

  Another surprise.

  His fingers dug into her hair on both sides of her head, keeping her right where he wanted her. With him holding her head and his big body pinning her against the car, she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to.

  Though, the longer he kissed her, the more she realized she didn’t want to go anywhere but inside.

  Their tongues tangled and fought for control, hers pushing against his, trying to take over his mouth instead. But he wouldn’t allow it and when he finally broke away, she was left breathless and every part of her body tingled. Her nipples ached for his mouth and she was pretty sure her panties were completely drenched.

  His mouth remained a hair’s breadth from hers, though, and she flicked her tongue over her lips as she stared into his deep, dark brown eyes. He seemed as shell-shocked as she did.

  And that wasn’t something that normally happened to her. She could safely assume that may have never happened to him.

  He didn’t seem shakable.

  But he was. And that kiss did it to both of them.

  How crazy was that?

  “Oh good lord,” she finally whispered.

  His huge hand pulled out of her hair to cup her cheek. “Fuck me,” he muttered as if in disbelief.

  Her lips twitched. “After that kiss, I have to say yes.”

  He dropped his gaze to her mouth for a second before saying, “Wasn’t a question, babe. But, after that, glad you’re all in.”

  She lifted her hand to wipe away a smudge of her lipstick from his mouth with her thumb. “Do I have any lipstick left?”

  “Nope.”

  “I was afraid of that. Can we go inside now?” Before I melt into a big puddle in the middle of your driveway with your neighbors probably peeking from behind their curtains?

  “Fuck yeah,” he said softly, then stepped back, snagged her hand and practically dragged her behind him over the concrete walkway to the front door. He dug a set of keys on a Harley keyring out of his jeans and plugged one into the door.

  He pushed it open and guided her through, slamming the pretty door with the decorative stained glass panel shut with a bang and then turned the deadbolt.

  Okay, then. This was really happening. She was going to actually have sex with this man, this... this biker.

  Jesus, she truly lost her mind.

  As she felt his large presence behind her, she thought screw it.

  Then she told herself it’s only one night. One night to let loose before going back to her neat little life of wearing suits, being a successful attorney and fighting for justice.

  She jerked in surprise when her hair was brushed away from the back of her neck and his lips were there. Soft, warm, wet, and... shit... her knees started to buckle, until he wrapped an arm directly under her breasts to help hold her up.

  Oh shit.

  His lips brushed across her skin, then she felt the light scrape of his teeth. His other arm curled around her, though lower... much lower, and he pressed a palm against her lower belly, slowly sliding it down...

  Down...

  Oh shit, down...

  When he cupped her through her skirt, she thought she might self-combust. She dropped her head to the side as he took gentle bites down her neck, only stopping when he reached her suit jacket. He used the arm under her breasts to reach up and cup one in his hand, then a wide thumb brushed back and forth over her pebbled nipple.

  “This gotta go.” He clearly meant the suit jacket.

  Why yes, it did.

  And, crazy enough, she was ready to shed all of her clothes and do him right in front of the door, right there on the floor.

  He released her only long enough to pull her jacket off her shoulders and toss it on the floor.

  Oh God, don’t look where your three-hundred-dollar designer suit jacket just ended up. Don’t look...

  Don’t—

  Large fingers deftly pulled at the top buttons of her blouse until it hung partially open and his hand slid into the cup of her bra. His cock, solid as a steel rod, pressed into her lower back.

  He growled into her ear, “Can’t wait to drive my dick deep inside you,” then he tweaked her nipple hard, pulling a gasp from her.

  She throbbed, actually throbbed for this man. She needed to chalk that up to temporary insanity.

  That seemed to be a reasonable defense.

  As he slipped his hand under her breast and began to lift it out of her bra, he froze.

  Then Kiki froze. Her gaze followed a twenty-something female walking through the living room right in front of them. She had her head down as she did something on a cell phone and had earbuds plugged into her ears.

  Kiki grabbed the edges of her open blouse and yanked it closed, even though Hawk’s hand was still firmly planted inside it.

  A muttered, “Fuck,” came from behind her.

  The young, blonde, very, very, very pretty woman stopped dead in the center of the room, glanced up and froze, too. Then her eyebrows shot up her forehead before a slow smile crept over her face.

  She popped out one earbud. “Hey, Hawk.”

  “Where’s your fuckin’ car?”

  Oh boy, the man didn’t sound very happy at all.

  “The shop. Crash dropped me off.” She ran her eyes over Kiki from head to high heels, only hesitating slightly on where Hawk’s hand disappeared. “Didn’t know you were getting out today. Would’ve made you dinner.”

  She makes him dinner and walks around like she owns the place?

  Kiki tugged desperately at Hawk’s wrist and with
a sigh, he released her breast and removed his hand from her blouse.

  She was too old for him to be her father. But too young to be anything else.

  All of her youth was definitely on display with her slender legs that went on for days out of her teal short shorts and perky breasts that were barely contained in a snug pink camisole that had a drawing of an antique motorcycle on the front.

  She gave Kiki a half-assed wave. “Jazz.”

  Kiki opened her mouth but it wasn’t until the second try that she could spit out, “Kiki.”

  “Really?”

  Then Hawk moved, bumping against her back with his chest and pushing her forward, deeper into the room. “Yeah, really. Get in your room an’ keep those things in your ears for the rest of the night.”

  Jazz frowned and looked like she wanted to argue.

  “Jazz,” came out of Hawk’s mouth in an unmistakable warning.

  “Shit. Okay. Can I grab a pop and some snacks first?”

  “Yeah, get your shit an’ get gone.”

  After throwing a final eyeball at Kiki, Jazz wore a knowing smile as she headed into the open, modern kitchen right off the living room. “Shouldn’t panic if the house shakes, right?”

  Hawk’s deep chuckle surprised Kiki. “Nope.” He snagged Kiki’s hand as he pushed past her to drag her up the staircase that sat to the left of the entrance. “Don’t disturb us, got me?” he yelled over his shoulder.

  “Got you,” came from the kitchen area.

  “Rather she not be here, but gotta do what ya gotta do,” he said, climbing the steps.

  Gotta do what ya gotta do.

  Kiki lowered her voice. “You still want to...”

  “Fuck yeah, babe. Been locked up forever.”

  “Ten days.”

  “Like I said, forever.”

  Kiki rolled her eyes as they hit the upstairs landing. “You can’t go ten days without sex?”

  “Not willingly. Can you?”

  “Not willingly,” she answered truthfully. Then he threw his head back and laughed.

  Kiki stopped at the top of the stairs and stared. The upper level had a completely open floorplan similar to a suite. A neatly made California King sat against one wall. Dressers, chairs, and a desk filled up the rest of the area. One wall was lined with closets. She couldn’t imagine a biker needing that much space for holey jeans and ripped T-shirts. And from what she could see, there was an en suite bathroom at the back of the room.