CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"Why can't I get the fucking taste of you off my tongue?" – Hawk

 

 

 

      Sensing the second she was inside the clubhouse; Hawk's body went off like a tuning fork humming every fiber of his skin until he was pure gooseflesh beneath his cut. The hair on the back of his neck became static electricity and every-fucking-thump of his heart wanted to bang clean out of his chest.

      It happened every time, the way his cock began to ache making Hawk damn jittery even Snake had asked what-the-hell he’d taken. Fuck off. He’d growled. Everyone knew he didn’t touch the hard stuff.

     Instead, he'd glared at Rider's woman to try and distract himself from what he really wanted to do and that was look at … her.

      Shit. It was ten months since he’d last clapped eyes on her, having timed it right to be elsewhere on her biannual visits. Ten months eight days, if he were counting.

      She’d sprung this visit on everyone.

      If Rider was surprised. Hawk was fucking devastated.

      He wasn’t prepared, had no willpower, no coping mechanism, in place.

       His only option was to get out of there. Fast.

      Now. Do it now. His eyes trying to betray his will.

      Three minutes later, ignoring Zara, he’d stormed off like a vengeance tornado into his room down the hall, into the bathroom, grunts falling like acid rain, slamming the door almost off its hinges, he’d bodily climbed into the frigid cold shower, unable to wait for the water to run hot.

      Only one thing he could do.

      He ripped open his jeans, sending a button flying.

      Reaching inside he groaned a pained sound.

      His arousal was half crawled up his ribbed belly.

      Hungry.

      Starved

      Needing.

      Hawk yanked down his zipper until he could better wrap his full angry fist around his cock, he stroked the massive erection he'd been sporting since the second he got eyes on her waltzing her ass through the door all smiles for everyone waving like a royal fucking princess.

     Pumping it harder than it had ever felt before, the grip death tight, the power in the up and down motion strong enough to make his sensitive skin sore if he kept it up for any period of time, lucky for Hawk this wouldn't take long at all, as it was, he could feel the climax begin to boil inside him, it ranged from a simmer right into volcano strong, his balls tightened, they didn't even need any play to get him there, he was already there in the twister of his climax.

      It was so completely sick that it was her who did this to him. Only her.

      Why her?

      He slapped a hand to the wall to steady his body, he rode his palm the full length dragging his cock half way up his abs, pumping down faster, it was either come or … fuck.  

      He couldn't think of the or.

      Or he'd goddamn do it.

      He'd do her so phenomenally hard, just split her thighs and screw them both into her, and damn the consequences that would inevitably arrive afterward.

      It would be worth it.  A dark voice whispered and Hawk shut down his thoughts from going any further.

      Not ever gonna happen.

      Hawk wasn't a normal man, nor a man with a virtuous compass, he felt nothing most of the time, no guilt, regret, he flicked people off like gnats neither bothered nor caring about them.

      Which was why it always came as a surprise he sprung a hard-on when she was near.    

      The hell.

      He was a sicko. Degenerate.

      No pain needed. No sadomasochism. Straight up fucking erection with no prompting. Goddamn her.

      He was less than the dirt beneath those princess shoes. He'd always known it and still ... his cock turned to steel thinking of the smile she sent him. She was a torturer in a tiara.

      The pelts of shower water soaked up the noise of his raw grunts, pleasure so acute it felt like pain racing down his spine, tightening his full balls.

      Who was he punishing? he wondered. Himself for desiring her, or her for making him want her.

     Either way, he got off now or...

      There was no or. He growled. Purging her from his system had become routine, something to ignore until it was so fierce within him he either fucked or he killed.

      But he was far too interested in her to the point it was gonna drive him crazy if he didn't get her out of his head for good. Curious was never a sound idea where he was concerned.                

      Bad things occurred.

      Dangerous when he wanted to invade her personal space like he had the right to without regard for if she wanted him there.

      Hawk liked fear. He got off on it. Needed it. Craved the upper hand.

      He pictured her now while he stroked his cock, the look of disdain she'd surely give him if he got in her face, he was an animal, why wouldn't she, if he did what he wanted to do to see if she smelled as good as he knew she would, he'd scare her.

      All sweet baby innocence.

      Close. Close. Closer.

      His palm got rough, jerking his cock like he hated himself. He wasn't far wrong, but he needed there, he needed there so fucking bad.

      His groan echoed around the scanty bathroom, water so hot now it almost peeled the skin off his bones through clothes that clung uncomfortably tight, however, he wasn't dialling the temp down, he didn't stop the up-down motion, the hard twist to make it hurt as he fixed her image firmly in his mind, how innocent she smiled, so clean and fresh, like plucking a brand-new rose and ruining it in his fist.

      She was brand new and he was death.

      Hey, Hawk.

      Two words and his head had been about to explode.

       Did she sense the effect she had on him? Was the greeting she'd passed him so nonchalantly in ways to torture him? He didn’t understand body language, didn’t catch subtle nuances. In any case, he'd scowled jutting up his chin at her as way of a reply, even that killing him, and strode off in the opposite direction as far away from her as he could physically get without leaving the club. I should have left. His dick demanded he took care of the build-up of desire before that too exploded.

      Fuck.

      Fuck.

      He wanted to fuck her so vigorously, make her scream his name, plead for mercy, let everyone know she was letting an animal do her better than anyone else ever could.

If he retained her image in his head, that slight smile from one corner of her mouth, the way she was forever brushing back her long black bangs, he'd be done for.

      This was where his depravity kicked in.

      Hawk was on the dark side, walking a fine line when his body responded to just how he wanted to ruin the girl.

      His groan reached down to his soul, pumping with more force, screwing his own hand, drawing out the flash of ecstasy as he smoothed the drop of pearled liquid over the head.

      Her smile was getting him there.

      The way she walked, rolling her hips, was forcing him to his climax in record time.

      He hated her.

     Wanted her.

      Fucking craved her like a drug.

      His veins twisted cruelly for a fix. Any fix.

      Slapping a hand to the wall for leverage, he pumped and moved his hips with the motion, close. close. Almost.

      Three little letters punctured the air, growled out of his chest, the noise torn and ragged and regretful, come spilling down over his hand as the pleasure went on and on and on, a river of filthy pleasure, her name on his lips. Spurts of pent-up need went on and on leaving his cock in what felt like endless rushes of a lewd wave.

      He thought he could hate her.

      That little bit of a thing had gotten under his asshole skin a long time ago when he hadn't been decent and wouldn't get the fuck out.

      He didn't want to feel.

      He didn't want to feel her.

      Only he did.

      In all the filthy ways he could think of to mess that little bit of a girl up.

      On legs that were less than steady, Hawk stepped out of the shower cubicle, remembering to reach back in and switch off the spray before he flooded the place, steam billowed as he pulled open the door, whooshing out ahead of him before he could move back into his bedroom.

      His jeans and shirt were soaked, clinging to his body, itchy, irritating material, he shucked them both leaving them in a sopping heap there on the floor to deal with later.

       Not bothering to dry himself he pulled on a pair of dark denim jeans from the floor, not caring how long they'd laid there for, there was no clean pile, dirty pile, all of Hawk's clothes were well used clothes.

      He could give a shit about his appearance. Who did he need to look good for anyway? Club bitches bent over for him regardless.

      Next, he followed it with a t-shirt that was slung over a chair, he stomped back into his boots, the only things he'd bothered to remove along with his cut.

      He was angry. One look at her and he'd needed to stroke it out of himself or rush her, driving her down to the floor and rut like a disgusting animal.

      The VP could just imagine how that would fucking go. He'd be riddled with bullets in seconds.

      The little bit of a thing would surely get him killed.

      Wearing his menacing glower when he walked out of his room, shrugging into a fleece lined leather jacket he zipped to his chin. The raging climax had done nothing for his mood if anything he was wound tighter.

      Tighter still when he caught sight of her laughing with Capone. The two had their heads bent and Hawk saw fucking Red.

      Killer Red.

      To execute his brother for daring to stand so close to the little bit of a thing.

      She tossed her head back, the remnants of her laugh still present on her clean face, not a smudge of makeup as far as he could tell, and her black hair in soft messy waves halfway down her back.

      So friendly, open, giving of her time.

      The hair he pictured grasping from behind while he growled for her to open her legs for him and to take it like his good girl. Shut the hell up, you don't touch her. If only he could listen to himself. Too far down that rabbit hole, wrapped in an unhealthy addiction, Hawk’s dark cloud followed him to the door, shoulders tense he needed out of the club, to go into town, find a bar, get drunk, choke a waitress into an orgasm before he lost all sense and killed Capone for talking to Gia.

      A few more steps and he'd be gone, out of sight, safe from her.

      Gia. Fucks sake. Hawk always knew he was an animal.

      Just a few more steps. He kept on prowling.

      Maybe it was fate that had them both looking the same way right before he stepped out into the hallway. Gia’s eyebrow rose in question, watching him. She mouthed are you okay?  Hawk scowled at her and carried on.

     Ignoring how his dick ached. She had to remain a skeleton in his closet, the one pushed furthest towards the back.

      Of all things Hawk had done in his life, the downright evil and filthy, the man with no conscious was keeping a very dark secret, one that most definitely would get him killed.

      A Little bit of a girl. So pristine. So clean.

      Rider’s baby fucking sister.

      Off limits wasn’t new to him.

      No fucking wonder he was scowling