Down & Dirty_Hawk

by Jeanne St. James

  Either way, Hawk didn’t recognize him and like Abe had said on the phone, he didn’t wear a cut. The bar didn’t have a “no colors” policy and they welcomed other clubs as long as they didn’t stir up shit. So, if he belonged to a club other than the Warriors he should be wearing his patches.

  Maybe he was just a lone wolf.

  Before he could straighten up and approach the guy, Zak pushed through the swinging doors from the kitchen area that divided the private clubhouse and the public bar.

  Z’s gaze pinned on Kiki as he advanced, and it wasn’t difficult to see he was trying to hide his surprise. He came around the bar to clasp hands and bump shoulders with Hawk.

  “Chicken Hawk,” Z greeted with a grin.

  “Z.”

  Zak’s gaze dropped to Kiki, who Hawk noticed had her deep blue peepers glued to the club’s former president. He tamped down the jealousy that stabbed at him like a knife.

  “He’s got an ol’ lady, stop eyeballin’ him.”

  Kiki’s eyes widened for a second then her brows dropped low and she said, “Are you going to ask me if I did him, too?”

  Zak let out a long, low whistle then laughed. “Damn.”

  “Know you didn’t do him, don’t gotta ask.”

  Kiki held out her hand to Zak. “Kiki Clark. Since he’s not introducing me, I’ll introduce myself. I’m your club’s new attorney.”

  Zak’s eyebrows shot to his forehead. “What happened to Pudwhacker?”

  “Tom passed you guys on to me.”

  Zak took Kiki’s offered hand and instead of shaking it, he lifted it to his grinning mouth. Hawk couldn’t stop the little growl that slipped from his lips.

  Zak’s eyes shot to him and he laughed again. Releasing Kiki’s hand, he whacked Hawk’s shoulder. “Got it, Chicken Hawk.”

  Kiki’s gaze shot to him, too. “Got what?”

  “Ain’t lookin’. Got my ball an’ chain,” Zak said, his eyes flashing with amusement and ignoring Kiki’s question. “Definitely don’t need another one.”

  Grabbing the double shot that sat in front of him, Hawk downed it, then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Once the warmth of the whiskey rushed into his gut, he pushed that jealousy aside to deal with what was currently going on.

  Without even looking, Zak asked, “Guy in the far right corner?”

  “Yeah,” Hawk grunted. Z must have pegged the guy as soon as he came through the double swinging doors.

  “Wanna approach? Have words?”

  “Who else is around?” Hawk asked.

  Zak lifted a shoulder. “Can’t find D. Crow was in church earlier but left to go chase a piece of pussy. Grizz was planted on his ass in his normal spot when I came through. Need ‘im?”

  Hawk cocked a brow.

  “Didn’t think so,” Zak said. “Just gonna have a coupla words. Don’t need anyone else.”

  “Right,” Hawk grunted.

  Zak looked down the bar at Moose. “Got that big fucker down there if we need ‘im.” He jerked his chin toward the corner. “But that guy ain’t takin’ both of us if it comes down to it.”

  “Right,” Hawk grunted again. Z was right. Hawk alone was bigger than the stranger. He was bigger than most guys, except for his brother, Diesel, and Moose might not be taller, but he definitely had some substantial girth.

  Hawk’s gaze slid to Abe. “Watch her.” He tilted his head toward Kiki. “Anything happens send in Moose first. Got me?”

  “Gotcha,” Abe said with a chin lift.

  He looked down at Kiki. “Babe, don’t move from this seat unless shit goes down. Abe’ll send you through those door there.” He jerked his chin toward the kitchen’s double doors. “Keep goin’ ’til you find an old fuck sittin’ at the club’s bar. He’ll take it from there. Got me?”

  Kiki’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, babe.”

  She grabbed his forearm. “Did you forget you’re on probation?”

  His gaze dropped to her warm, delicate fingers wrapped around his thick, tattooed arm. The contrast between the two of them hit him hard. “Nope.”

  “Do you think I’m going to be able to get your ass out of jail as easily as last time?”

  He peeled her fingers from his skin and gave them a reassuring squeeze. “Yep. That’s why we pay you the big bucks.”

  Kiki did a soft little snort and shook her head.

  Zak elbowed him into action and they headed toward the back corner. Hawk watched as the stranger sat upright in his chair and straightened his shoulders, now on notice and, though his face was a blank mask, his eyes were active, aware. He had no doubt that the two brothers were headed his way with a purpose.

  When they got to his table, the guy greeted them with a chin lift which neither he or Z returned. Then the lone biker used a booted foot to kick out one of the empty chairs from under the table. “Have a seat.”

  With a quick glance at Z, Hawk pulled the offered chair out further and sank his weight into it. Zak grabbed another chair from a nearby table, spun it backwards and settled on it, arms crossed over the chair back.

  “Hawk. That’s Zak.”

  The guy did another chin lift toward the both of them. “Slade.”

  “That your sled out front?” Hawk asked him. It was a sweet Harley that was well taken care of. Hawk couldn’t help but respect a man who took pride in his ride.

  Slade leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah.”

  “Watcha doin’ here?”

  “Just enjoyin’ a beer.”

  “Beer’s probably flat an’ warm ‘bout now.”

  “How’d you know? You just got here a little while ago.”

  “True. We got eyes.”

  Slade nodded, his eyes flicking to the bar and then back to Hawk. “It’s a biker bar. Ain’t bikers welcome? That’s what the sign says out front.”

  “You read it right. You ain’t wearin’ colors, though.”

  Slade lifted an eyebrow. “That a requirement for a beer?”

  “Nope. You attached?”

  Slade ran a finger down his beer mug and shook his head slightly. “No, man.”

  Hawk studied the man before him. “Know who we are?”

  “Yeah. Heard of your club.”

  Hawk continued his questioning since the man didn’t seem to be taking offense to it. “You from ‘round here?”

  “North of the ‘burgh.”

  Hawk noticed a thin metal chain around Slade’s neck, but whatever was hanging at the end of it was tucked into his worn Iron City Beer T-shirt. That type of chain was easily recognizable so it sparked his curiosity. “Dog tags?”

  Slade’s hand automatically went to this chest where there was an unmistakable outline under the thin cotton. Yeah, that’s what they were.

  He wasn’t a hundred percent sure of this Slade, but Hawk was pretty confident he wasn’t a Warrior.

  “Army?”

  Slade pulled up one sleeve and on his right bicep was a USMC logo tattooed into his flesh.

  Marine. Oorah.

  Zak made a noise then shifted in his chair. “Should join us. Lookin’ for some good recruits.”

  Slade’s eyes landed on Z. “Did some time with another club. Not lookin’ to do that time again.”

  Z tilted his head, his interest clearly written across his face. “Were you patched in?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened?”

  “Club went in the wrong direction. Wasn’t lookin’ to do time in a concrete cage. ‘Specially for stupid shit.”

  Z blew out a breath. “Hear ya on that. DAMC’s goin’ the other way. Lookin’ for solid people.”

  Slade shrugged. “Think about it. Not sure I wanna be tied down.”

  “Hear ya on that, too. Club can be like a naggin’ bitch sometimes. A noose ‘round your neck.”

  “Amen to that, brother.”

  Zak rapped his knuckles on the table. “Think about it.”
/>   “Won’t prospect.”

  Hawk grunted. “Gotta prospect.”

  Slade’s dark eyes swung to him. “Definitely not interested then. Too old for that shit.”

  Now that he was close, Hawk reevaluated Slade’s age. He now guessed thirty or so. “You find you’re lookin’ to settle, stop in. I’m not here, whoever’s behind the bar will find me.”

  “You president?”

  “No, VP.”

  Slade’s gaze hit the bar again. “That your woman?”

  Hawk twisted his neck and followed his gaze. Kiki was still where he left her but she had swung around to observe them. His lips twisted into a frown. The woman had a great pair of legs and they were hard to miss since she had them crossed as she leaned back against the bar on her elbows. One foot encased in those fucking heels was swinging, drawing most of the bar clientele’s attention in her direction.

  Not that he blamed them, he just didn’t like it.

  Fuck that. He hated it.

  “Workin’ on it,” Hawk muttered. He ignored the startled look Z sent his way.

  “Aimin’ high,” Slade murmured.

  Hawk sucked at his teeth as Kiki raised her shot glass to him, winked, then downed what looked like another double.

  Shit.

  He needed to get her home and out of those clothes now that things proved okay there at the bar.

  He pushed up and out of his chair, motioned to Moose, then yelled across the room, “Get this Marine a fuckin’ beer.”

  A few “Oorahs” rose up through the bar and Hawk grinned. He offered his hand to Slade, who slapped a palm against his and then shook it firmly. “See combat?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Drink free here anytime, even if you don’t join us.”

  Slade nodded. “Appreciate it, brother.”

  Hawk looked at Zak who remained seated. “Comin’?”

  “Nope. Slade don’t mind, wanna hear some war stories.”

  Hawk grunted and strode back to the bar. He snagged Kiki’s elbow and helped her from the stool. “Let’s go.”

  Her eyes dropped to her shot glass that Abe was apparently keeping topped off. “I have a—”

  Hawk grabbed the glass and down the double shot of Jack, hissed through the burn, then said, “No, you don’t. Let’s go.”

  He guided her back to the entrance of the bar, giving Slade and Z a last chin lift before they walked out the door.

  “Last time I tell you to wear a skirt,” he grumbled.

  Kiki’s warm, wet tongue glided up his throat as Hawk buried his dick even deeper into her slick heat.

  He couldn’t get enough of that tight cunt of hers. Dropping his head, he latched onto her nipple and drew it hard into his mouth. Her long nails dug deep into the flesh of his ass as he powered up and into her over and over again.

  Her eyes were squeezed shut and the sounds that came out of her hit him directly in the balls, which were already painfully tight.

  He was ready to blow his load. But he wasn’t ready for this to end.

  He plowed his fingers through her hair and pulled it tight. “Look at me, babe.”

  Her eyes popped open, but they remained unfocused. She gasped when he thrust hard again into her tight heat.

  “Like this?”

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  “A lot?”

  “Yes.”

  “Best you ever had?”

  “Yes, honey.”

  Yeah, it was. He grimaced as he powered up once more, driving hard. “Can’t get enough of you.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  “Gonna come?”

  “Soon.”

  “How soon?”

  She hesitated, then she tensed and cried out, “Now.”

  He gritted his teeth as she clenched down tight around his dick. The throbs seemed never ending and he was trying not to lose it. Not yet.

  Not yet.

  He had to make it last.

  He wasn’t sure how many more times he’d be able to talk her into coming to his house, climbing into bed with him, offering herself to him... Hawk. To her, he may very well be some low-class biker that was only scratching a temporary itch. But, fuck it, he’d take every second she gave him.

  So tonight, he had to make it last. He might not have tomorrow.

  Her body loosened around him as she came down from her climax.

  “Gonna make you come again.”

  She smiled up at him, “That would be nice.”

  “Fuck nice.”

  She laughed. “Give me a badass biker orgasm then. Ride me rough and hard and give me all you fucking have.”

  Fucking goddamn.

  He took that dirty mouth of hers. Every time she cursed it surprised him. It didn’t seem that classy mouth of hers should expel anything obscene. But when she did...

  Fuck.

  He kissed her long and hard, exploring every inch of her mouth until she was groaning and rocking her hips against him once more.

  Goddamn. She was making it hard for him to last.

  He pulled away. “Babe.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. “Yes?”

  “On top.”

  Without breaking their connection, he rolled and when she settled on top, her dark brown hair fell loosely around her face and over her shoulders. Not neat, fuck no. Wild and wavy. Her deep blue eyes flashed. Her tits tempted him as they hung heavily, her nipples tightly puckered.

  He reached up and brushed his thumbs over the hard tips. She arched her back and drove herself down, taking him impossibly deep.

  Fuck, they fit just right. How could two people from two different worlds fit together so perfectly?

  “Love bein’ buried inside you, babe.”

  “Perfect,” she groaned as she ground her hips down on him again.

  That it was.

  “So goddamned wet you’re drippin’ down my balls.”

  “You make me that way.”

  His chest got tight as he stared at the woman straddling him. He sucked in oxygen, trying to keep his thoughts from turning sour.

  He had to just take here and now. He couldn’t do anything about shit that would happen afterward.

  “Hawk, honey,” she murmured, cupping his cheeks, holding his gaze.

  Fuck him when she called him ‘honey.’ It hit him way harder than it should.

  “Yeah,” he grunted.

  “Something wrong?” She rode him slow, lifting all the way up until just the tip was at her entrance, then she slid all the way back down, taking his whole length.

  “Everythin’s right when you’re on my dick.”

  “Mmm, yes it is.” Her eyes fluttered closed and she circled her hips.

  He should be doing something other than just lying there, staring in amazement at her, and thinking how fucking lucky he was right now.

  He put his fingers where they connected, feeling how slippery she was, how slick she was making his skin as she rose and fell on him. Pressing his thumb to her clit, she gasped and tilted her hips, now gliding back and forth on him.

  Oh fuck.

  He didn’t think he’d ever been with a woman that got this wet or maybe he just didn’t take the time to find out. Get off, get out, get gone.

  With his other hand, he ran a finger through her juices and then reached around and slipped his finger into the cleft of her ass.

  She stilled, planted her palms on his chest and leaned forward, blowing out a breath. Her eyes locked on his.

  Hawk took that as encouragement and circled her puckered hole. However, she was clenched tight.

  “Relax, babe.”

  “I... I...”

  “Relax,” he whispered while he pressed.

  She tried again, “I don’t...”

  “Gonna feel good. Promise. Just gotta relax.”

  “Promises, Prom—”

  Her words were cut off by her gasp when he pushed his finger slowly inside her tight canal. And it was fucking tight.

  “Oh.
.. I...”

  Yeah, she liked it. Fuck him, so did he. Now he wanted something other than his finger inside her back there.

  “I never...”

  “Can tell, babe. Fuck. So tight.”

  “Jeez, that feels... Fuck! Keep doing that...”

  A chuckle rumbled through him. There was no way he was going to stop. Especially when her pace quickened and she began to ride him like a wild woman, throwing her head back and the noises she was making...

  For fuck’s sake, he might come before she did.

  He grunted when she slammed down on both his finger and his dick, grinding hard against his thumb that was still pressed to her clit.

  Then her whole body spasmed around and against him.

  Thank fuck.

  “Tell me,” he growled.

  “I’m coming,” she cried out.

  “Yeah, fuckin’ me, too.” He bucked his hips up and shot his load deep inside her. Her pussy was pulsating around him; his dick was throbbing. And, holy fuck, he was going to die right then and there a happy man.

  Chapter Eight

  Kiki sat under a pavilion in the courtyard at church, aka the DAMC clubhouse. A bonfire was blazing, beer was flowing freely and she was surrounded by a bunch of bad boy alpha bikers, almost all of them wearing similar black leather vests. Some were fully decorated with the patches that Hawk had tattooed onto his back, some with just a few. It was easy to spot the prospects from the fully-patched members.

  Never in her life had she pictured herself in this type of environment. She certainly didn’t quite fit in even though she had donned a pair of her oldest designer jeans, an old T-shirt she found at the back of her drawer from her college days that now fit a bit snugly, and a pair of flip-flops that she only wore around the house and to the beach.

  At this point, it wasn’t a party per se, but more of a meeting to plan the upcoming fundraiser. Hawk told her that all of the brothers were required to attend this meeting and participate on the day of the event.

  She looked around. There sure was a lot of them and there were a lot of women here as well. A few wore these “cuts,” too. Though, their patches said “Property of” at the top, then had what she assumed was a club member’s name at the bottom. Hawk had called it a “rocker.”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t understand why any sane woman would want to be the property of anyone.