Chapter Nine
His family loved Amy. He’d never seen them like this. One after another, they vied for her attention. Usually, they ignored his dates—not that he brought many women around his family.
She’s not a date, she’s your wife.
Temporary wife. He had to keep reminding himself of that.
And she was fucking hot.
When he’d left her in bed earlier in the day, she’d been devoid of makeup. She was just as gorgeous then as she was now in tight leather and that tank top. He kept having to adjust himself, unable to quit thinking about shoving his cock through those pert breasts while she sucked him with that magic mouth of hers.
Shit. He had to stop thinking about her tits and her mouth.
His family had taken up five of the six tables and all of the barstools in the back of Pinky’s. Curious bastards, his brothers and sisters. Nearly every one of them within a two-hundred-mile radius had shown up—on a Monday night, no less.
“Hey, little sister-in-law, I think we need to do some tequila shots.” Cannon had his arm around Amy, and it took a minute for Hawke to realize his own hands were in fists.
It’s not real. Stop acting like some jealous idiot. He didn’t do jealous. What was wrong with him?
“Might not be a good idea. I get kind of mean on tequila.” She laughed as Cannon hugged her. And without realizing it, Hawke stepped forward to take her out of his brother’s arms.
“Hands off the wife,” he said. He was only half joking, and he should probably try to figure out why, but he didn’t want to think about it.
Cannon lifted his hands in surrender.
She waved a finger at Hawke. “Don’t start that caveman crap with me again. I wore these very warm leather pants so you couldn’t complain about my legs again.”
His brothers and sisters and Granny laughed. “Better watch out, she’ll use that gag on you,” Granny said. Everyone laughed again. He was never going to live that down. They were gathered at the end of the bar at Pinky’s. The place was crowded, as usual. He’d planned on staying a half hour max, but when he’d tried to make excuses to leave, Amy had asked if they could stay. He’d been trying to limit their time with his family, who couldn’t seem to stop asking her questions. She’d been a pro, never letting on about their secret. And charming, this one, when she wanted to be. She was like a spider drawing them into her web without a hint of artifice. He’d seen actresses win Oscars for lesser performances.
She’d been telling them a story about being chased by a street vendor in Prague because her phone had translated words wrong and she’d accidentally called the man’s wife a pig. His family laughed like they were watching some kind of comedy show. He couldn’t tell if they were just trying to be nice because he was finally with someone, or if they were really as into her as they seemed to be.
Not that he could blame them. There was that charm thing. He was just as drawn in, and it scared the hell out of him. He’d never felt like this about a woman, wanting to spend every minute with her. Stupid. Especially since she wasn’t really his wife.
“A round of tequila for the family,” Hawke said to the bartender. Part of him wanted to see his ballerina mean. Maybe it would help him put up those walls he normally had. He would never tell her, but he’d liked it when she’d gotten mad at him earlier and thrown the ball gag in his face, that heat in her eyes soaring through him and setting his body on fire.
Drink. He needed a drink in the worst way.
Two shots later, Cannon had talked them into playing pool. Hawke switched to water and had the bartender make him a couple of shots of espresso. He didn’t drive drunk, another of his rules. And while he had no plans to leave yet, he’d be sober when he did.
“I’ll be there in just a minute,” Amy said before chugging down another tequila. She was going to feel that in the morning.
“Keep an eye on her,” he said to his sisters.
“Don’t worry. She’s safe with us.”
He wasn’t so sure about that. His sisters were really good at getting in trouble. More than once, he’d had to bail one of them out of jail for drunk and disorderlies.
With one more glance over his shoulder, he watched her laugh at something Granny had said. Granny patted her hand. He wasn’t sure why that bothered him. She was a sweet girl. Why wouldn’t his grandmother like her?
Because Granny didn’t like much of anyone outside of the family.
In the poolroom, he racked the set and tried to force his petite ballerina out of his head.
His ballerina.
Shit. It had only been a few days. He had to stop it.
“Hey, baby, I haven’t seen you in forever.” A blonde slid her arm around his waist and her tongue into his ear. Shit, he couldn’t remember her name. Mary? Mauri? Something like that.
Before he could pull away, his belt loop was tugged from behind.
“Hey, get away from my husband. God only knows where that tongue of yours has been.” Amy’s voice was full of venom, and those eyes narrowed.
Oh hell. The ballerina was mad—again. Yep. And he was as hard as a rock because he liked her that way.
“Husband?” The blonde snorted. “Hawke is not the marrying kind. Move along, bitch. I’m not playing your game.”
He grabbed Amy before she could punch the other woman, and pulled her back.
“Actually, this is my wife.” He didn’t bother looking at the other woman. He was much too fascinated by the reaction of his bride. “And she’s kind of mean when she’s been drinking tequila. And she’s been drinking a lot.”
She gave him the sweetest smile and then she planted a kiss on him and wrapped her legs around him. He backed against the wall.
Fuck. He was even harder. He lost himself in her softness. Damn, the woman could kiss. He tightened his hands around her ass as his tongue dueled with hers.
Someone yelled, “Get a room!” and the fog lifted from his brain. Fuck. They were in the bar and he’d forgotten.
Hawke glanced up to find the other woman watching them with a look of disgust, alongside his very amused brother.
His brother shrugged and then to the blonde mouthed, “Don’t mess with her.”
“That’s right. Move along,” Amy said without turning around. Then she kissed him again.
“You guys gonna make out all night, or are we playing pool?” Cannon asked.
It was all Hawke could do not to bust out laughing. His brother didn’t bother containing his amusement.
“That chick needs to learn some manners,” Amy said.
“True that,” Cannon said.
“Don’t egg her on,” Hawke told him, but his gaze stayed on Amy. “Who knew there was such a hellcat in you?” And then he kissed her again.
He couldn’t help it.
She pulled away.
“I’ve got to pee. Which way is the bathroom?” she asked.
No way he was letting her walk through the crowded bar alone, especially in the mood she was in. The blonde might have friends, and he’d seen the way the men watched her when they’d come in the door.
“I’ll get you next game,” Hawke said to his brother as he led Amy to the back of the bar. There was a public restroom, but Pinky, who had been a friend of his dad’s since before Hawke was even born, let the family use the employee one by the back entrance.
“I’ll wait for you here,” he said just outside the door. It wasn’t the cleanest place in the world, but it was private.
She shut the door. He heard the water running. But she didn’t come out.
“Hawke. I need your help.”
Was she sick? She’d had a lot of tequila. His family did that to people. They could be a bit much sometimes.
He opened the door to find her without her pants or thong. Just the white tank.
“What are you doing?” So fucking beautiful.
“Lock the door. I need you right now.”
Those words coming out of her sweet mouth mainlined heat straight to his cock.
“Demanding.”
“Shut up. Except, tell me you brought a condom. Please.”
He pulled a package out of his pocket.
She eyed it and then smiled. “Right now. This second. You are my favorite person.”
“High praise coming from you.”
Then she reached down and unbuttoned his jeans. “I have one more condition to our little agreement.”
“What’s that,” he said. She spread her legs farther, bent down, and licked his cock. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met anyone more limber than she was. “This is mine.” She licked him again. “For the next two months. You don’t share it with anyone else.”
She flashed those gorgeous green eyes up at him, with her lips kissing his cock, no way in hell would he argue with her. “We agreed to that the first day.”
“Yes,” she said. “But I wanted to make sure.” She sucked him down her throat.
Fuck, he was going to lose it before he got inside her.
Then she stood and backed away.
“I want you to say it. I want your word you won’t fuck anyone else until I leave for Paris.”
Right then he’d give her anything she wanted just to fuck her. His cock ached for her.
“I promise. My cock is yours until you say otherwise.”
She gave him a slow, sexy smile, took the condom from him, and slid it down his cock. As soon as she was done, he backed her up against the wall. He slid his hand across that tight little pussy of hers. She was wet for him. He fingered her, and she wiggled against him, thrusting her pink folds against his hand.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You. Inside of me.” Her muscles tightened around him.
She arched her back as she came around his fingers.
Hot. And fast. She really had needed this. Tequila might make her mean, but it also loosened her inhibitions. This was Amy, raw and unfiltered. And his. She was all his. “Make me the same promise.”
“What?” She moaned and her muscles tightened around his fingers again.
“You belong to me,” he said, refusing to add the time limit. Maybe because he didn’t want to examine why the idea of anyone else touching her sent fury through his veins. “Say it.”
“Yes,” she cried out. “I’m yours. Hawke. Please.”
He pulled his fingers out. “Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered. “It’s going to be like that first time. I’ve got no control right now.” He didn’t with her. He was like a high-school kid again. He couldn’t fucking get enough of her. And every time he thought he had her figured out, she surprised him.
“Don’t care. Need you now. How many times do I have to say it?”
Fuck, he liked when she said shit like that. Like he was the only one who could soothe her.
“Whatever you say, Twinkle Toes.” He shoved his cock into her and pounded her into the fucking wall. She took it all, digging her fingernails into his back through his T-shirt.
“More,” she begged. “Harder.”
He pumped into her faster and harder. “Need you,” she cried out. “Please. Please.” He wasn’t sure she knew what she was saying, but God, she was beautiful with her head back and her legs wrapped around him.
“I’ve got you,” he said, sliding his hand down to her clit and rubbing in rhythm. Her hot pussy tightened around him and milked him hard as she screamed his name.
Amy. Amy. Amy. He moaned as he poured his seed into her.
And even with his heart still pounding and his breathing ragged from loving her hard against the wall, he knew he would never be satisfied.
Every time they fucked, he wanted her a little bit more.
Fuck.