Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense) (91 page)

Gingerly, hesitantly, I turn my face up to look at him, and wriggle in his arms enough to close the gap and press my lips to his.

“I hate myself,” he murmurs.

“Why?”

“For leaving. For not seeing. For not fighting. I didn’t know what I had until I was gone. I had no soul until I saw you again, Alex.”

Then he kisses me back, harder at first, then more gently, pulling away as if he’s afraid he’ll hurt me, but I follow him, kiss him back even more fiercely. It becomes a slow dance in tiny, gentle motions, our bodies intertwining until I’m in his arms, leaning into his grasp as he lowers me to the bed and hitches my blouse up around my hips, and pulls my panties down.

My hands tremble and I can barely work the buttons, one at a time, until Hawk does the bottom three and slides the blouse down my arms and pulls it out from under me. I twist to try to take my bra off. He pops the clasp for me, draws the straps down and my heart hammers in my chest as I bite my lip and watch his face as he drinks in the curves of my body and cool air touches my sweaty chest as the bra comes away and drops to the floor.

He just looks at me, grazing his thumb along the line of my jaw. I look over at the door; the knob lock is turned, the door locked, but it feels like no protection at all.

I pull at Hawk’s t-shirt, tug it loose of his jeans and he slips it over his head. A flush of excitement runs through me at the sight of his body and I touch him slowly, running my fingers over hard muscles, tracing the lines of his tattoos and the ridges of his scars.

He dips down and kisses me again, drinking deep.

“You taste like ginger ale,” he murmurs.

A foolish grin spreads on my face and I gasp softly as his lips find my throat, hot and soft on my skin.

“We have to be quiet,” I say.

“I know.”

“Are we going to?”

“Do you want to?”

I bite my lip and nod. Hawk lays beside me and I lift my legs. He slides my panties all the way down my legs and lifts them from my feet, then drops them to the floor. Then he unbuckles his belt and I sit up to unlace his boots.

It feels weird, sitting here naked, undoing his shoes. His eyes roam the curves of my body, but it only makes me feel heat, arousal spreading from my center through all of my body. He caresses my back, tracing his finger down my spine as I tug his boots off and set them one at a time on the floor.

As I lean back, he shoves out of his pants and they fall to the floor, and we both freeze as his belt buckle makes a soft metal clink. Then I laugh a little, so softly. As if someone would have heard that. Taking me by the hips, he pulls me to him and I feel his lips on my shoulder from behind, then working down my arm as he rolls me onto my back.

Hawk lightly takes my nipple in his mouth, and I shudder as I feel his tongue moving wet around it. Warmth spreads through my body as he looks up at me and our eyes meet. His hand rests on my stomach as he sucks my breast, gliding down and over my mound, his fingertip sliding against my entrance, up and down.

“Do you like that?”

I nod vigorously.

“What about this?”

He kisses his way up to my armpit, and then down the outer curve of my breast, opening his mouth wide. The feeling of his teeth on my skin makes me shudder. His tongue is hot and slides over my flesh, as his finger presses just a little more, not ready to enter me, but sending shocks down my legs as I feel it press at my entrance and draw back, stroking my lips, then almost enter me again.

I roll my hips and his finger slips inside me. He looks up as he flicks his tongue against the skin under my breast, watching me as his finger enters me deeper. Shifting on the bed, he kisses his way down my stomach and I stare at his body, my stomach fluttering at the sight. He’s solid muscle, and I feel almost embarrassed when I realize it.

This is the first time I’ve ever seen him completely naked. Or him me, for that matter. I have to almost force myself to look at his cock, and when I do I gasp. I didn’t think it would be that, uh, big. He must be excited. He lays on his side and licks me as his finger starts to pump inside me and I stretch a little to reach him.

His whole body jerks when his cock slides through my palm. It’s hard as steel, but it feels soft too, almost velvety. He pants a little when I do it again, and shifts so I can reach better. I cup my hand around his balls and he looks at me and sucks my clit, and my whole body arches.

My legs start to shake. It feels too good. He moves and I can’t reach him anymore, but he doesn’t seem to care. He takes long strokes, licking me, and each time heat surges through my body. I groan softly.

“Hawk?”

He looks up, but doesn’t stop.

“Lay on your back.”

Hesitantly, he rolls over. His cock rests against his stomach. As he lays with his head at the foot of the bed, I rise and move over him on all fours, trying not to let my legs shake too much. I rest on his legs, and take his cock in my hand.

He watches me in silence, his breath quickening. I feel him tense when he feels my breath on his shaft, and I drink in his reaction as I press it against his stomach and flick my tongue against his balls. His whole body jerks as I put my lips on the underside of his shaft and kiss lightly, working my way up the length, without quite touching the tip.

His hips roll involuntarily, and I dart back, holding his shaft in my hand. I touch my lips to the head and Hawk makes a silent sound of pleasure, once, twice, and then I spread my lips around it and take him in my mouth. A low, soft groan escapes his lips as his taste fills my mouth, warmer than I expected, his shaft burning hot in my lips. When I swirl my tongue around the head, he grips the sheets and I feel him stiffen even more, if that’s possible.

Hawk’s eyes lock on mine as I take him deeper in my mouth, savoring the taste. I didn’t expect it to be good, exactly. I just wanted him to feel good the way he was making me feel good.

He’s so hard I can’t believe it. I draw him out of my mouth slowly and rise up on my knees, sit down and roll back to rest my head on my pillows, and slide my legs apart. Hawk sits up and looks at me.

“Do you have a…”

“I can’t. I’d have to explain it if someone found it.”

“Oh. Why don’t we-”

“Fuck me,” I blurt out in a short, harsh whisper. “Do it. Please.”

He falls forward, his hands pressing the bed down around me, jostling me as he lowers himself on top of me. The muscles are hard but his skin is soft, and I slip my legs around him. His eyes lock on mine, silently asking for permission, and with a bite of my lip I give it. The look on his face as his cock presses inside me is almost as satisfying as the feeling of my body opening around him, as the sensation of him filling me.

He goes slow, almost so slow I can’t stand it, as he takes me slowly, sinking into me to the root, and lays there, our breath mingling. I feel so connected. It’s more than fullness, I feel so close to him, like I’m sliding into him as he slides into me.

It feels fucking good, too.

Then he starts to move. I press my lips shut and stroke his hair as he thrusts, faster and faster, my hips moving on their own, falling into a steady rhythm with him It’s like a game, where he watches me and changes it the way I like. I like slow and deep, feeling him grind against me, feeling his stomach against mine, his balls pressed into me.

As I grip him with my legs, he grips me with his arms and my body grips him, the heat building and building as he moves inside me. I can feel his own arousal building. He’s so hard. His mouth on my throat, his hands on my body, the shudder as my nails rake his back.

Something comes over me and I nip his shoulder, just bite him with my teeth. He jerks back, but he smiles. I do it again and he rams into me harder and I want to scream but I can’t, so I bite him again and scratch him and he pumps faster, his whole body moving in undulating thrusts, faster and faster, until it feels so good and I can’t take it, I can’t take it.

It feels even better than before when he used his mouth on me in the alley. I clench around him, squeezes him, but I feel myself unraveling, unfolding, bursting through my own skin as every nerve in my body sings in joy. It grows and grows like a white hot fist opening and closing, inside my body but bigger than my body.

My eyes flick open and our gazes meet. Some silent agreement is reached. He plunges into me and grunts, the only sound either of us has made the entire time. Soft and harsh, and it turns into a gentle, loving whisper of a moan in my ear as he explodes inside me, hot and wet.

I relax on the bed, splaying out under him. He doesn’t move, he lays there, and I feel him inside me, so close. I feel giddy, lightheaded, and where I was biting and scratching now I caress, teasing.

“Let’s do it again.”

He glances over at my desk.

“No time. I have to get back upstairs.”

He kisses me lightly, then draws out of my body. There’s a sheen of sweat all over him, and his cock is slick and shiny from being inside me. I roll on my side and bask in the afterglow. I feel so warm and fuzzy all over, a pleasant kind of numbness.

Hawk dresses quickly, half laces his boots, and pulls a sheet over me. He kisses me on the cheek before he clambers out the window and back up.

I have no idea how he doesn’t fall.

Hawk

Now

I can hear the shower running. I need one, too, but part of me doesn’t want to wash Alexis’ scent off me. I can hear Alexis humming softly, a wordless tune as the water runs. I’ll have to wait a while after she’s done before I can use it myself. It would be odd if we showered one right after the other. It might draw attention to us.

I can’t believe I did what I just did. For a time I felt like myself again, my real self. For a time, it was like it was. Alexis let me have her, all of her. There was more to it than the feel of her silken skin under my hands, the sharp kiss of her nails or her teeth in my shoulder. It was trust. She trusted me completely.

Sitting here, all I can think about is the look in her eyes when I entered her, the way she gripped me and scratched and bit me. I should have known Alex would be a biter. There’s a nice mark on my shoulder from her teeth. She didn’t break the skin, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.

For some reason, the thought of it excites me. The nasty little smile she gave me after she bit me is etched into my memory, cut into my mind. Just thinking about it starts to get me excited again.

Deep breath, Hawk.

It’s almost time for dinner.

Alexis shuts off the shower and I hear her bedroom door close a moment later. I stand and pace the sewing room, hoping I can get down there without running into someone- Lance, Alexis’ mom, somebody who would get a whiff of her scent on me or ask why I’m all sweaty. I wait as long as I can, glancing at the clock. It’s almost four, I need to be ready.

Luckily enough there’s no one on the second floor, at least in the hallway, when I head for the bathroom. The heat scours the sweat from my skin as I stand under the scalding spray, steam swirling around me. I’m losing my mind.

I should just make her leave. Grab her and drag her out, kicking and screaming if I have to. Take May, too. Every minute I spend here is another risk. My father isn’t going to forget about me if I stay quiet. He’s already wondering why I’m here. As soon as I sit down to dinner, the wheels will start turning in his head.

After I dress I walk back down and find May and Alexis on the second floor, wearing dresses and minimal makeup, and I know the Dinner Rule is still in effect. It’s four o’ clock on Sunday, time for the happy family to have a nice sit down dinner.

I just have to make it through it without killing my father with a salad fork.

I grab Alex’s arm, and she looks at me.

“You have to act like you’re mad at me,” I tell her, and then to May. “Keep your mouth shut.”

May grins, and quickly suppresses it, lips twitching. She heads down the stairs first, Alexis follows, and I take up the rear, walking slowly down behind them.

Alexis’ mother is in the kitchen, wearing a freaking apron, a frilly one with a big bow on the back, and is currently bending over the oven, ready to lift a turkey in a roasting pan onto the counter.

I haven’t talked to Helen since I returned to Paradise Falls. I think the last time we spoke was even before the water park trip, before I left town. I walk over to her as she tugs on an oven mitt, take the other one and pull it on my own hand.

“I’ll get that.”

She stands up straight and looks at me.

Helen is taller than either of her daughters, thinner in build and her hair is a dark honey color, not jet black like Alexis and May’s; they got that from their father. I barely remember him- we didn’t talk much, but he always seemed to like me, even during that attached at the hip phase where I spent every free moment of my fourteen year old life with his daughter.

Helen never treated me with more than cool distance, and as far as I knew, my father looked down on her. She worked as a waitress when Alexis was little and took on a second job at the auto parts store after her husband died.

I wasn’t sure why she didn’t like me. I thought maybe it was because my family has money, or she was just leery of having a boy around her daughter, although in those days I didn’t think of it in those terms.

Today she’s dressed as I would expect my father’s wife to dress- a flowing, floor length floral pattern dress, frilly apron, minimal makeup and her hair loose, hanging to her shoulders, held back only by a pink barrette. She looks like someone’s idea of a fifties housewife Halloween costume.

Without a word, she slips the glove off her hand and passes it to me. I tug it on and lift the turkey onto the hot pads she left out on the counter.

“It has to rest,” she says, flatly. “Will you help me serve?”

“Sure. How have you been? We haven’t really talked.”

“No," she says, curtly. “We haven’t.”

Without further comment she muscles the big stock pot off the stove and dumps it into a colander, tosses the potatoes back in and pours in milk to mash them. I stand there with my arms folded.

Other books

After the Rain by Lisa de Jong
Engaging Men by Lynda Curnyn
Orchid Blues by Stuart Woods
Adrian by V. Vaughn
The Caller by Karin Fossum