by Michele Hauf
“Tease,” he muttered as the doors slid open with a ding.
“I’m wet for you,” she said as she strode out. Pausing in the hallway, she waited for him to walk out.
He was fighting a hard-on as he did so, but that’s what he got for fooling around on the job. He’d pay for it, one way or another.
As she turned, her shoulder brushed his arm. And her hand slipped into his. Hawk squeezed her fingers. God, she felt good.
The clatter of cameras alerted them both. At the end of the hallway, the paparazzi had invaded the building lobby.
“Ready?” Hawk asked. He flicked his hand from her grip, hoping none had gotten a photo. That had been a moment of foolishness. Sliding on his dark glasses, he gestured for her to take the lead.
“Always.”
The gall of some of the photographers never ceased to stun Hawk. Calling out for Becca to give them a pout. Let’s see some leg! How was the meeting? Looks like you and the bodyguard are getting close.
Even as Becca made her way outside and toward the limo, Hawk angled his gaze slowly to zoom onto the man who had shouted that last statement. He knew the asshole. He had been the first on the scene when she’d been ready to ride off into the moonlight with the biker addict the other night. He didn’t know his name, but he never forgot a snaky grin.
Momentarily pulled from his routine, he turned to find Becca had stopped before the limo. And he wasn’t there to open the door for her.
Hawk rushed forward, glided a hand down Becca’s back, and grabbed the door handle. “Sorry. Someone suspicious back there.”
“No problem,” she said. Slipping inside, she managed to skim her hand along his thigh as she did so. Glancing oh-so-close to his cock, which was too hard for this lights-camera-action moment.
Hawk swore under his breath, then turned to face the snaky guy, smirking as if he’d just swallowed a whole nest of eggs. The photographer snapped a pic of Hawk as he charged. The flashes were annoying but his sunglasses helped. He gripped the man by the arm and shoved him against the brick wall.
“Whatever you think you just got,” Hawk said, “you didn’t.”
“Let go, man! I’ll sue!”
Releasing his grip as if he’d been singed, Hawk did not back up. These bottom-feeders always tossed out the words sue and lawyer and that it was their right to make a living. It was their right. But didn't anyone have morals anymore? Common courtesy?
“Let me see the pictures,” he said more calmly but kept the stern tone in his voice. It took everything he had not to grab the camera and smash it on the concrete, but he knew that would only create more problems for Becca. A dozen more photographers were recording every moment.
“Why? You don’t want the world to know you were holding Miss Wylde’s hand when you got out of the elevator? And, just now, I saw the way you touched her.”
“I was not—” That one moment of indiscretion! “What you saw was her handing me something. That was all. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let my client bump her head when she gets into the car. I always watch out for her. And I will thank you not to post those photos anywhere with the false statement that it was anything more than that.”
Someone called from over his shoulder. “If it wasn’t something more, then why are you getting so bent out of shape, Hawk?”
Hawk’s jaw tightened. He hated that the paparazzi knew his name. It gave them control over him. An intimacy he did not appreciate.
“Step back, buddy,” the snake said, finding his confidence as he clicked through the camera, checking his shots. “Wait. Ah, man!”
Hawk gripped his wrist and twisted his hand so he could view the camera’s screen. Whatever shot he’d gotten when he and Becca had touched hands near the elevator was blurred. It clearly showed two people, but there wasn’t evidence they were holding hands.
He dropped the guy’s wrist and pushed his sunglasses up his nose. “I know this is how you make your living.”
“Damn right.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to disrespect Miss Wylde.”
“She asks for it, man. The wild child loves attention.”
“You know, you sound like the same kind of asshole who rapes women or abuses children.”
The photographer gaped at him, then closed his mouth and looked aside.
“I’m sorry,” Hawk felt the need to say. “That was extreme. Just…give her some space, will you?”
“Just doing his job, man,” sounded from behind Hawk.
Yeah, and how long before photos of the angry bodyguard showed on social media? Every moment he wasted trying to talk sense into these people was another nail in his coffin.
Hawk returned to the car. After he’d closed the door, Becca leaned forward from the back seat. “What was that all about? Were you shoving him? Hawk, that’s the stupidest—”
“Stupid was taking my hand like you did when you know that someone would get a shot of it.”
“I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to hold your hand.”
“And risk the whole world gossiping about you and your bodyguard?”
She exhaled and sat back, arms crossed, and a pout on her lips. “I’m sorry.”
Hawk turned and caught the driver’s raised eyebrows. Yeah, the wild child never apologized. And she always had the last word when they bickered. So, what was up with the submission?
“No, I’m sorry,” he offered over his shoulder. “The photo was blurred. You’re safe.”
“From what?”
“From the humiliation—”
“No, Hawk, don’t go there.”
He clamped his jaws shut. Much as they’d discussed this, it was still impossible not to go there. But he wasn't stupid, either. Argument over. He’d won. He nodded and turned to face forward.
Yet it didn’t feel right.
“Where to, Miss Wylde?” the driver asked.
“Home.”
Again, Hawk and the driver exchanged startled glances. No shopping? But they knew better than to question. Shifting into gear, the limo rolled away from the curb.
Half an hour later, Hawk held the back limo door open and Becca raced inside the building lobby. Only three paparazzi lingered outside, but it was always three too many. Hawk hastened his steps into the elevator and caught her tiny smile as the doors closed.
“You okay?” he asked, eyeing the LED numbers as they counted upward.
“Yes.”
“But…you had the driver take you home.”
“So?”
He turned a look over his shoulder at her. “You always go shopping after a meeting. At the very least, we drive by the cupcake shop, and I run in for you. Don't you want red velvet? Or triple chocolate decadence?”
“I have something better in mind.” She grabbed his hand and turned him around.
Without warning, Hawk received a kiss from her that was both hard and crushing, and hot and needy. She wrapped her legs around him, and he grabbed her ass to hold her to him. Obviously, their tiff in the car hadn’t bothered her as much as he suspected. And he was very okay with that.
The elevator doors opened into the penthouse hallway and he stepped out backwards, princess wrapped tightly in his hold, then walked the few steps to her door. Without breaking the kiss, she managed to punch in the digital code. They plunged through the doorway, Hawk catching the door with a heel and kicking it closed behind them. His hand slipped along her thigh.
“You’re not wearing panties.”
“Forgot!”
“Wild child.” He set her on the edge of the sofa.
“I thought you didn’t want the wild child?”
“I don’t. I do. I mean…”
“I know what you mean. What you did with that cameraman was awesome.” She pulled him in for another kiss. “Like my protective knight in shining armor. Thank you.”
“I was just—” The kisses didn’t stop, and why talk about this when he was hard and wanted to taste her? Everywhere.
Pu
shing her back so she landed her shoulders on the sofa but her hips were on the arm, he knelt and spread her legs and pushed up her dress. Diving in for the taste he desired, he tongued her deeply, drawing up a squirming moan from her. Gliding his fingers inside her, Hawk curled them upward and felt her thighs clench against his cheeks.
“Oh, yeah,” she crooned. “This is much better than a sale at Macy’s.”
He had to agree.
12
Becca tossed a towel to Hawk. He caught it and stepped out of the shower. The two of them steamed from the hot water. And another round of sex.
He wrapped the towel around his hips, then bent to kiss her at the corner of her eye. She nudged her nose against his stubbled jaw, drawing in his warmth. “You smell great when you’re not wearing aftershave.”
“What’s wrong with my aftershave?”
“It’s spice. So common.”
He splayed out his arms and hands, drawing attention to his slick six-pack. “I am a common man.”
Uh-huh. And abs like that came packaged in boxes of sugary cereal.
“You have no idea just how uncommon you are, Hawk. But don’t freak about it. It’s just my taste. I don’t like the spicy scents on men. So boring. But you, all naked and sweaty and—you smell so delicious. I want to eat you up.”
He pulled open the towel to reveal what was beneath and his erection bounced with the movement. He waggled his eyebrows.
“Like I said,” she cooed. “Uncommon. That is the straightest, hardest—“
He kissed her. And she didn’t even mind that he was probably trying to shut her up again. Because the reward for her silence was getting lifted to sit on the edge of the marble vanity and feeling that straight, hard uncommonness find its way between her legs.
Ten minutes later, Hawk had pulled on his pants and didn’t argue when Becca slipped on his dress shirt over her still-moist skin. The lemony steam from the bathroom spilled out into the bedroom and gave her drying hair a gentle curl that she’d regret later if she didn’t dry it now.
What was life without a few regrets?
She kissed Hawk’s chest, then pulled his hand and led him out to the living room. “Let’s order a movie on the TV. Might be fun. I can order in some popcorn and treats.”
“Order in popcorn?” Hawk shook his head. “That’s just wrong. I might have some downstairs. We can pop it in the microwave.” He kissed her forehead. “Is this our first date?”
“I think it is. How do you feel about that?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Hawk, please don’t tell me you’re still uncomfortable about this.”
“Then you won’t hear how I really feel.”
“Why do you have to make things so difficult? Can’t we just have some fun?”
“And what about when the fun ends? Do I lose my job then? Because much as I’m into you, Becca, I’m also into earning a living. I’m sorry. Fuck, I'm having a hard time with this.”
She pulled him to sit on the sofa beside her. “I get where you’re coming from. And, honestly, I’m not looking for a long-term relationship. But who knows where we’re going with this? I’d call us friends with benefits, but I hate that term so much. Can we just make it up as we go along? I promise, if and when we decide to stop this, I won’t fire you.”
“You might never want to see my ugly face again.”
“You’re so handsome, I’d want you standing behind me all the time. But what about you? If this thing we’re doing comes to a natural end, how will you feel about following me around?”
“Watching you hook up with other men?” He blew out a breath. That thought hadn’t occurred until now. Even though he’d been watching her do just that for a year already. Now, it was different. Now, she was his. In a manner. Friends with benefits? Ugh. He didn’t like that either.
“Like you said, this is new, and we’re just trying it out,” he said. “I guess you should know when I’ve had relationships in the past, they tended to last a while.”
“Like how long?”
“Longest was two years. Shortest? Eight months.”
“Wow, you are commitment guy. Well, I can’t say how I’ll feel when this comes to an end. Relieved, happy, sad, pissed. Who knows? We’ll face that when it happens. Deal?”
He sighed again. “You keep talking about an end like it’s inevitable.”
Becca kissed his jaw. “Nothing is ever a sure thing. You take everything personally and too seriously. Let’s have fun, Hawk. I dare you.”
He lifted a brow.
“See? You like a good dare. And this one involves having sex with me. Go get the popcorn. I’m going to see what flicks we can catch on TV.”
Rain beat the windows and lightning flashes set a moody, cozy atmosphere for the couple snuggled up on the sofa. Becca had suggested they watch The Bodyguard with Whitney and Costner, but Hawk had won by choosing Star Trek. Not a film Becca had thought would interest her at all. Spaceships? Nope. But the handsome men playing Captain Kirk and Spock? Oh, yeah, baby. She’d met one of them at a fashion event last year. Nice guy, but his boyfriend had kept a firm grip on his hand.
“I think Kirk and Spock have a thing,” she said as the credits rolled.
“You mean like a gay thing? No. Really? Maybe.”
Giggling, she took the empty popcorn bowl and set it on the coffee table. Her cell phone vibrated on the glass surface and she scanned the screen. “Oh no.” It was another unknown number. She sat back against Hawk’s chest and held the phone so he could read over her shoulder.
If you want to keep your nudies private you can buy them.
“What?” She sat up, while Hawk slipped the phone from her hand. “I don’t understand this. I told you I have never taken a nude picture. How can this person possibly have one? I mean, seriously. I never dress in public. Could it have been secretly taken while I was in a dressing room in a department store? Hawk?”
“I don't know. This is not cool. Can I forward this text to Mink?”
“Yes, please.” Grabbing the empty popcorn bowl, she paced into the kitchen, slammed the bowl into the sink, and marched back out.
“When you go to the gym do you get undressed there?” he asked.
“No. I never work out enough to even sweat. You know I go there only to show off my cute workout clothes.”
“I do know that. I’m just trying to figure where or how you could be naked in public. What about a friend’s house? I know you and the Jesster have silly girl parties over your bags of new clothes.”
“They are not silly and you have to try on and model things for your bestie. But, no, we don’t get naked in front of one another. I might have stripped to bra and panties—the Jesster would never snap a pic of me like that. And I would know if she had.”
“She could have a spy?”
“She lives on the twentieth floor.”
“Right.” Hawk set the phone on the coffee table. He peered out the window overlooking Park Avenue nearly sixty stories below. The closest building this height was across the street and down two blocks. But that didn't mean a zoom lens couldn't capture anything and everything. “What about in your bedroom? Do you change before the windows?"
Becca shrugged. “I usually dress in the closet. But you know me. I do things in my bedroom. With…" She sighed. "Men. You don't think…?”
“I don't know. You never draw the curtains.”
“Because I like the sunlight. But, seriously? I know cameras can take pictures from a long distance, but…”
Her sigh rifled through Hawk’s muscles, tensing them even tighter.
“This is disturbing.” He tapped her phone. “The texter didn’t say when you should pay or how much or where, so I assume that’s yet to come. We’re going to need to give Mink full access to your texts. Or better yet, we need to bring the police in on this.”
“Oh, Hawk, do we have to? You know that time I was arrested for jaywalking, it hit the tabloids the same day. And the kid
napping…”
She hushed out a breath. Never had she felt so vulnerable as when she’d been dragged to the back of that van. Fortunately, someone had seen and alerted three policemen in a nearby coffee shop. The vehicle hadn’t gotten away with her in it. But then, the questions that had followed in the police station, and the resulting press? That had brought vulnerable to new levels.
And later, she had learned that one of the officers had texted his friends about the heiress who had almost been kidnapped. “There’s so many leaks in the NYPD.”
“This is important, Becca. Someone is threatening you.”
“I thought you said you once applied to the NYPD? Maybe you know the procedure for handling something like this? And how it could possibly be kept quiet? You never did tell me why you weren’t hired. I can’t imagine a guy like you, who has served in the armed forces, can be satisfied with following me around all day.”
“How could a man not be satisfied following around your rich and gorgeous ass?”
“Better pay than the cops?”
“Exceedingly. And look where this job has led me?” He spread his arms to encompass them both. “I’m having date night with the prettiest woman in New York City.”
“You’re on a date with the wild child.”
“You’re not that woman to me. I know you better.”
“Yeah? Well, there’s a lot you still don’t know about me. Don’t put me on a pedestal yet.”
“Are you saying there is something I should know to help me with this?” He tapped the phone.
“No, nothing like that. The suggestion that I could have nude photos out there somewhere baffles me. How far will a crazy fan take it? Maybe I should call the police. Can we wait and see what your friend says first?”
“Sure. But if this creep contacts you again, you have to agree to take this to the cops.”
She nodded.
“Say it out loud, Becca.”
“Sure.” She sat on his lap and raked her fingers over his scalp. “You want to sleep over tonight?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t kick me out.”
“Great, but I’ve got a morning meeting for JUSTGIVE. We’ll have to set the alarm. And tomorrow night is the charity ball for endangered species. You’ll need to suit up.”
