Feels Like the First Time

by Marina Adair

  “Yeah,” he agreed. He had very few good memories from those early years, trying to deal with the grief, stay out of his dad’s way. No matter how good he’d been on the ice, Bradley always demanded that he get better.

  “After my mom died, I kept coming here,” he said, remembering painfully just how bad those first few years without her were. “When I was feeling trapped, I’d climb down the cliff side and sit right here, looking out over the water. It was as if when I was here, nothing could cage me in. It was the proof I needed.”

  “Proof of what?”

  “There was a world that was bigger than my dad’s controlling hands.”

  Hawk took a deep breath to keep the familiar feelings of helplessness at bay, then looked at the ocean, past the outcropping of rocks and coastal trees, to the dark blue surface that sparkled in the fading sun, and expanded beyond what he could see. Cyprus trees rustled in the breeze and the water lapped gently against the rocky beach.

  This view never failed to bring him peace. And today was no different.

  They were completely isolated from problems that were awaiting them back in town, and Ali didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave. Most important, this was one of Hawk’s favorite spots, a place that had brought him comfort. And he wanted to share that comfort with her.

  He could feel her gaze on him, steady and compassionate. “I never met your dad,” she said.

  Even though Bradley Hawk Sr. had lived in Destiny Bay for all of his fifty-nine years, very few people really knew him. Including his own son. After Hawk’s mom passed away, Bradley spent his days up in the mountains logging trees, and his nights drinking himself stupid. And until Hawk had matched him in size, knocking his son stupid.

  “You wouldn’t have liked him,” Hawk said truthfully. “He was a moody son of a bitch.” Whom Hawk worked tirelessly not to become.

  There wasn’t a rule he hadn’t broken, or a person he hadn’t plowed down. Not if they stood in the way of his goal—securing his son a spot on a Stanley Cup team. In fact, Tom never wanted a son; he wanted a player to coach. Someone to control and mold in his likeness. Someone who could live out his lost dreams.

  “You must take after your mom, then,” Ali said. “She sounds like a sweet woman with a big heart.”

  A ball of emotion expanded in his throat at the mention of his mom. She had been the healing light in his life. Always ready with a big hug or warm words. When she died, their home became nothing but a cold, empty shell.

  “Was that a compliment, sunshine?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

  “Just an observation.” Ali shrugged. “But I think it’s sweet the way you talk about her.”

  “She was strong and loved being right, but she worked hard to make her family happy. She reminds me a lot of you in that way,” Hawk said, smiling when he saw Ali blush. “It was like trying to break into a vault to get her to talk about herself, though.”

  Ali laughed. “Is that your way of telling me that it’s my turn to share?”

  “Only if you want to.”

  Her answer was to rest her cheek on the tops of her knees. “What’s the point of going out, if all we talk about is what I am trying to escape?”

  “Going out isn’t about escape, it’s about finding clarity and reminding yourself that you aren’t locked into any one direction.”

  “Do you really believe that? That someone can change their direction by stepping out for a little while?” she asked, so much hope in those dark green pools, he found himself wanting to drown in it.

  “I do.” It was why he’d been so adamant about a fresh start with a fresh career in a fresh town. Destiny Bay wasn’t a new place to him, but it didn’t have the daily reminders to hold him back from a new adventure.

  “And what happens when you want to step back in and everything’s changed?”

  “Change is what makes life exciting,” Hawk said. “And you look like you could use a little excitement in your life, sunshine.”

  “Architectural Digest wants me to come to the photo shoot and get some shots with me and my piece. They also want to interview me, a little fluff article on an artist to watch.”

  Hawk pulled her in for a side hug. “Ali, that is great news. This is the game changer you’ve been working toward.”

  “I know,” she said, and instead of excitement lighting that expressive face, all he saw was genuine regret. “But it is on the same day as my dress fitting for Bridget’s wedding in Florida. I obviously can’t be in two places at once, and Bridget can’t change the appointment, and I don’t know what to do.”

  Such an Ali move, to have an opportunity of a lifetime staring her in the face, but she was so focused on being everything to everyone, she was missing out on being herself. He knew how slippery that slope could be, had been there himself, and he didn’t want to watch Ali miss out on her dreams because she was too busy making the dreams of others a reality.

  “Easy, what do you want?”

  “Well, Bridget really wants me there, and I’m nervous about my dad flying without me, and my mom would never forgive me if—”

  Hawk gently cupped her face. “I don’t want to hear about Bridget or dresses, I want to hear about you, Ali. I want to hear what you want.” She looked at him with the saddest fucking eyes he’d ever seen—as if her wants had never played into the equation. “Right here, right now, this is the place to ask yourself what would make you happy. No outside expectations or responsibilities. Just a raw, instinctual want.”

  “I want to step out of the shadows and feel what it’s like to have the light shining down on me.” And if that didn’t officially break his heart, then what she said next did. “Out of dozens of amazing artists, they chose me. And I want to experience everything that comes with that moment, but it will mean letting my family down.”

  “Remember, we aren’t talking about your family.” Hawk ran a finger along her cheek, loving the way her body quivered under his touch. “But if we were, I’d tell you that, first, they’d want you to be happy, and second, and here is where I need you to really hear me.” He dipped his head down, sure to look her in the eyes so she could see the conviction in his own. “What you’ve always seen as Gail walking away and letting you go, I’ve always seen as your dad loving you so much, and holding on to you so tight, she didn’t stand a chance.”

  Sitting there, as the sun finished its descent into the horizon, casting a warm golden glow around Ali, Hawk began to crave that kind of connection.

  “He loves Bridget, but he let her go,” she whispered, her eyes soft with confusion.

  “No, baby, after the divorce, Bridget cut herself off to his love. You gave yourself over to it.”

  A quality that both impressed the hell out of him and turned him on. Beneath that I play hardball exterior she wore like armor, lay a heart so big that, if he wasn’t careful, it would swallow him whole.

  “Is that what happened to you?” Ali asked, clearly misunderstanding which divorce he was referring to.

  “Nah, I may have taken a longer time-out than planned, but I never left the game.”

  And he never would. His desire to find love was greater than his fear of being hurt. And when those soulful eyes of hers lit with hope—and a dump truck of vulnerability—creating an intimacy that was impossible to ignore, Hawk knew that he was ready to start looking again.

  He’d been geared up on the sidelines for a while now, waiting to be called in, and watching the desire pulse at the base of Ali’s neck, Hawk knew it was time to get back that laser focus of his, because it was game on.

  “And when you’re done playing games, then what?” Ali asked, resting her hands on his shoulders.

  He took her hand and slid it over his chest to right above his heart. “Are you asking me what I want, sunshine?”

  “Right here, right now. No outside expectations or responsibilities. Just a raw, instinctual want,” she repeated his earlier statement.

  He looked at her mouth, which
was full and lush and, damn, perfect. Then he looked into her eyes, gently cupping her chin and tilting it so she faced him. His thumb traced a line from her jaw to her lips, while he waited for her to look at him.

  “You,” he groaned. “I want you. And I’m pretty sure you want me, too.”

  Chapter 10

  Ali nodded because she needed him more than she needed her next breath.

  The intensity of her feelings terrified her. They always had. Even at seventeen she knew what she felt went beyond the run-of-the-mill teenage crush. She’d been in love. Sure, it was a young, simple love, but it was love all the same.

  Only he’d loved someone else.

  So when he married her sister, she did her best to let him go. But no matter how painful it had been for her, and at times the ache was so acute it had been paralyzing, she was never able to set him completely free. Choosing the pain over the loss.

  Now he was back, looking at her how she always looked at him, as if he’d never let go, and Ali gave in to the fantasy. Played out the what-ifs she carried with her for over a decade. He’d been hers for so long, she let herself believe that she was his, too.

  He was asking for right here, right now—this she knew. Tomorrow, reality would creep in, and everything would go back to the way it was. But tonight, sitting on this beach, overlooking a world bigger than the two of them, Ali wanted to feel what it was like to be loved by the man who owned her heart.

  “I want,” she said.

  “What do you want, Aliana?” he whispered, the sound of her name on his lips doing crazy things to her. Crazy girly things that made her feel delicate and desirable.

  “I want you.” She trailed her hands down his pecs to that flat stomach and lower, loving how his muscles rippled and curled under her touch. “I want you to pamper me so hard I won’t remember how to walk come morning.”

  Hawk’s eyes darkened, and his mouth was on hers. Hard and demanding, and just how she’d imagined. There was no warm-up, no testing the waters. He was kissing her as if he knew what he wanted.

  And he wanted Aliana.

  Their mouths were fused together, her hands gripping his shoulders for purchase, but his fingers were gentle, languidly exploring her face, her neck, the curve of her shoulder, slowly moving down her arm and bringing the wide neckline of her shirt with him.

  He never stopped kissing her, but she felt his lashes flutter open, realized that she’d never closed her own. Then his deep brown eyes locked on hers, watching her as they kissed, and it was erotic and unexpected. As she watched him back, she felt his lips curl into a smile. Could feel the dimples on both cheeks come alive under her touch.

  “You like to watch,” Hawk growled, and she felt her cheeks flush.

  Ali never considered herself a watcher. But Hawk was such a beautiful and commanding man, she’d never been able to look away. Not even now, when her body was begging for release. He was that good—a simple kiss and she was so turned on, she could feel her body shaking.

  That smile turned cocky.

  “It’s not like I stand there peering through your bedroom window at night,” she said, leaving out that night he was at the bar. His bedroom window during the morning, when he was walking around after a shower. She was more than guilty.

  “I’ve peered through yours.”

  And to prove he wasn’t the least bit ashamed, he lowered his head and placed an openmouthed kiss on her shoulder, those eyes of his never leaving hers. Not even when he moved lower toward her collarbone, his mouth working her with a softness that took her by surprise and a reverence that made her feel as if she was precious.

  Ali wasn’t sure what to do. Hard, challenging, complicated—that was what she was used to. But this was light, simple—too easy to be real. It confused her as much as it terrified her.

  But then Hawk’s finger tugged on the collar of her shirt, pulling it low enough to expose the top of her bathing suit, and he gave a wicked smile that was so Hawk, a small burst of hope welled up, making her believe that maybe it could be this easy. Maybe she didn’t have to go into every situation looking for problems, or the escape hatch.

  Turning off the little voice in her head reminding her that love was never easy, Ali gave herself over to the moment. She might regret it come tomorrow, but today she was living in the here and now. And right now she was going to savor every toned, muscled inch of Hawk.

  The possibilities alone were enough to make her body quiver.

  “Come here,” Hawk said. “Let me warm you up.”

  Ali didn’t bother pointing out she wasn’t cold, not when his big, manly hands slid under her shirt and around to cup her ass. One minute she was sitting on the rocks, the next she was straddling his lap, her hands fisted in his shirt.

  “Better?”

  With a smile of her own, Ali tugged his shirt up over his head, exposing a chest and a set of abs that could be on the cover of a magazine. She rested her hands on his pecs and watched his abs jump. “Now I’m better. You?”

  He returned the favor, lifting her shirt up and off, giving a groan of male appreciation when he saw her tiny bikini top. “Fucking great.”

  “I don’t think we’ve gotten to that part yet,” she teased.

  He ran a finger under the halter strap of her top and followed it down to the triangle, his finger dipping beneath the fabric. “This isn’t a bathing suit. This is a siren’s call.”

  “You should see the bottoms.” She rose up on her knees slightly, just enough to give a small inch of space between their bodies, and with a teasing glance down and back up.

  “Although I do love watching, I’m more of a touch and feel kind of guy.”

  Hawk wrapped his hands around the backs of her naked thighs, and slowly slid his fingers up and under her shorts—not stopping until he found what he was looking for. Then her body found what it was looking for, a little pressure that was sexy enough to have her head falling back.

  “You have a point, touching is so much better,” she moaned.

  “Wait until the touching leads to feeling, sunshine,” he said, and to prove his point, his thumb gave another pass, around the edge of her bottoms, and then right up the center. Even through the fabric of her suit, she could feel the heat of his fingers at her core.

  It had her feeling all kinds of things. Especially when he pulled the fabric aside, his fingers working their magic as his mouth covered her nipple. Nuzzling and sucking her through the fabric until her breath came in short, harsh bursts.

  She looked down, watching him savor her body, and finding that his gaze was still on hers. Watching her watch him, his eyes getting darker with every level he took her to. She felt him smile a second before his finger sank all the way in.

  “God, Bradley,” she moaned and arched back.

  “I like it when you call me that.”

  “Bradley?”

  He grinned. “God.”

  She could have argued, but what was the point. Hawk was a sex god of the superior kind. He had her a few strokes away from what she knew was going to be the best orgasm of her life, and she was still completely clothed.

  Scratch that. In one ninja move, Hawk lifted her up and her shorts off, without even breaking contact. Then with the smile that proved he was also a woman whisperer, he hooked a finger in the front of her suit and tugged her closer so he could take her mouth, while his other fingers took her right up to the edge—where she hung on as long as she could—then finally fell over.

  And what a fall it was.

  Mind, body, and soul, she plummeted into those warm brown eyes of his, certain that she could spend forever right there.

  Her body ached with pleasure, and her heart struggled to stay in her chest, and just when she thought she couldn’t take any more pampering, Hawk added the right amount of friction and—Oh God!—Ali came again with a loud cry.

  Heat rushed through her body and the release she’d waited an eternity for exploded until all she could see was a bright light. And all
she could feel was Hawk’s strong body wrapped around hers. Her arms shook, her thighs tightened, and her lungs burned.

  “Breathe,” Hawk chuckled, slowly guiding her down to earth. And when she knew she couldn’t cling any tighter, she let out a breath and opened her eyes. Their foreheads were pressed together, and Hawk was stroking her back. And smiling.

  God, she loved his smile.

  “I thought you were going to pass out,” he said.

  “I think I did.” When her legs could support her, she rested back and took a moment to admire the beautiful half-naked man in front of her. “I was thinking.”

  He laughed. “You mean to tell me during all that, you were thinking.” Hawk rested back on his hands, their position causing his erection to press against her core, sending a nice little aftershock through her body. “I must have been doing something wrong.”

  She ran her palms down his chest again. Now that she’d allowed herself to touch him, she couldn’t seem to stop. “I was thinking that you did it so right, you may have gotten me to change my mind.”

  He cocked one of his brows, making him look roguish and sexy as hell. “I’m listening.”

  Yes, he was. He always was. Listening, really hearing what people were saying, was another one of his superpowers.

  “Watching is fun.” Ali’s fingers teased down his chest, back and forth, lower and lower they went until they found the waistband of his shorts. He was in athletic shorts, an easy one tug and they’d be gone style that she’d always wanted to play with.

  So she tugged, and played, and tugged a little more, her tongue licking her lips when he let out a small groan.

  “Watching is fun,” he agreed, eyes riveted on her face.

  “But I think the touching part is so much better,” she said, and slid her hand beneath the waistband—and down the heated, long ridge that was begging for her attention.

  He groaned, and so did she. Unable to stop herself, she did it again, wrapping her fingers around his length, and taking her time to explore every hard inch of him. Slowly, she stroked and memorized, watching his every move and reaction. Watching her hand work him until she felt her own body tremble with need.