Hawk shows up at the carriage house about ten minutes later than he said he would be. I’m actually starting to wonder whether he just asked me to go on a ride with him as some sort of weird joke. I don’t have his cell number, though, so I just have to sit and wait, and try not to feel like more of a fool with each passing minute.

When I do finally hear the sound of his bike outside, I’m relieved, but then I’m hit with a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Should I just go out and meet him? Should I wait for him to come to my door? I decide on the latter, because I’m hoping it will look like I haven’t been staring out the window waiting for him. Which is exactly what I have been doing.

I race back into my bedroom and wait for his knock, just so I can nonchalantly stroll out to answer the door instead of immediately flinging it open. When I do open it, Hawk is looming in the doorway, his face a dark mask. He looks even more tense than he did when I left him at the festival. I open my mouth to ask him what’s wrong, but before I can say a word, I’m slammed against him, his mouth crushing mine.

The kiss isn’t soft, or gentle, but I don’t want it to be. His lips are demanding, his relentless tongue forcing my mouth open and finding mine. A growl, deep in his throat, vibrates against my breasts as he crushes me to him, his hardness against my softness. It feels almost like the growl is coming from my own chest — like the boundaries of our bodies have collapsed. I moan into his mouth, the sound lost as he devours it. One hand reaches up and fists in my hair, and then for just a second pulls my face from his.

“This time, if someone knocks at the door, don’t answer it,” he rasps.

Then his mouth is back on mine. The softness of his lips and the roughness of his stubble are an electric combination. I want his mouth all over me, on every surface of my skin. In an instant, I’m burning up with desire. It’s as though every second of wanting him since we first met has collapsed into this one moment.

When his lips leave mine to graze the soft skin of my neck, I’m panting and trying my best to stifle the cries that are threatening to rip from my throat. My vibrator had been doing overtime since I met Hawk, but Old Reliable is no substitute for the man himself — for being touched by these strong, rough hands that begin roaming over my body, setting my skin aflame. He cups my ass and pulls me against his hard length, and I let out a loud, unrestrained whimper of pleasure as my center finds what it wants. Then he’s lifting me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. He carries me down the short hallway to my bedroom like he knows just where he’s going, his lips still burning the skin of my face and neck.

Hawk’s whole body is tense and hard with barely-contained lust, and my arms go to his muscled shoulders as I cling to him. His heart is slamming against his chest, his breathing fast and urgent in my ear. I feel impossibly tiny in his arms, completely under his control. And God, it feels so good. I don’t want to think at all. I just want him to take me. I want nothing but his body and mine doing what they’re desperate to do.

When he gets through the doorway to my bedroom, he stops just inside and pushes me against the wall. I’m still in his arms, my core pressed up against his hard, steely length, and it feels so good against my ache that I throw my head back and groan, my hips grinding against his. I could come just like this, and if he doesn’t stop I will. I can’t help it, my body wants what it wants. But instead he picks me up again and carries me to the bed, kneeling down on it with my legs still locked around him.

“Jesus, Samantha,” he half-whispers, half-groans. “Jesus Christ, I’ve wanted to do this for so damn long.”

His teeth nip at the skin of my neck, making me shiver. Then his hands move underneath the fabric of my camisole. The rough callouses on his fingers graze my skin as he slides it up, then finds the clasp of my bra and undoes it. I hold my breath as he finds the tender skin of my nipples with his thumbs and begins to tease them. I gasp and cling to him, pressing my forehead into his neck.

“Hawk,” I whisper. “Oh, God…”

It’s impossibly good. He rolls and pinches them, just hard enough that between my legs I start to throb almost painfully. I’ve never needed relief so badly before.

“I need to see you,” he murmurs thickly. Without hesitating, I pull my shirt up over my head and remove my bra, tossing it on the floor. The look in his eyes when he pulls back to take me in is feral, almost frightening in its intensity. I resist the urge to cover myself, because even though I’m momentarily self-conscious, the lust in his eyes is so complete that it makes me feel like a goddess.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” His eyes lock on mine. “You know that, don’t you?”

Heat floods my face. I can’t open my mouth to respond.

“You’re the most gorgeous fucking thing I’ve ever seen, Samantha.” His head dips to my breasts, his lips closing over one nipple. I tense and arch my back toward his mouth, crying out again. My whole body is vibrating with need as his tongue swirls over the hardening bud. He moves to the other, lapping at the areolae, and if anything it’s even more delicious. Between my legs, I can feel that I’m absolutely soaking my panties, and close to climaxing just from this as Hawk pushes me higher and higher.

Suddenly, I’m lying back on the bed and Hawk is pulling off my jeans. Breathlessly, I raise my hips to help him. Then in a flash, he’s got his own shirt off and kicked his jeans to the side. The massive length of him springs free, pulsing and majestic. He quickly leans down, and I see the flash of a foil wrapper and hear the crinkle as he rips it open and slides a condom over himself.

As he kneels on the bed again, I arch my head back and open for him, unable to wait another second. Wordlessly, he moves between my legs and slides his head against my slick opening. I gasp loudly, and writhe toward him. Then his cock is spreading me open, filling me, stretching me, until Hawk is all the way inside me, his hands clamped tight around my hips.

I hear Hawk’s fast, shallow breathing as he slides himself out, and then back inside me to the hilt. The velvety heat of his skin glides against my sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure shooting through me with each thrust. My hands clutch at anything, grabbing the sheets frantically as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. His groans reach me, seemingly far away, and I can actually feel him expand inside me as he continues to pump. We’re moving together, breathing together, so close, so close…

“So good… Come for me, baby,” he rasps, his voice low and insistent. “Come with me.”

That’s all it takes to push me over the edge. I scream his name and shatter, spasming around him as I come so hard it feels like I’m flying apart. Hawk thrusts once more, then twice, then empties himself deep inside me, roaring his release.

When I finally start to recompose myself and my breathing starts to slow, I risk a joke. “I thought you said a bike ride,” I gasp.

Hawk laughs, low and sexy in his throat. “We can do that too, if you want,” he chuckles. The last fifteen minutes or so seem to have helped him regain a little of his sense of humor.

“I’m not sure I could hold on without falling off,” I tell him. My legs and arms are still quivering from the force of my orgasm. “Rain check?”

For a second, he stiffens, the movement so slight I wonder if I’m imagining it. “Sure,” he says then. There’s something off about his tone. Immediately I wonder if it’s because this is just a hookup for him. I never should have said anything about there being a next time. Then I remember how tense he was looking earlier, and try to talk myself out of going down a rabbit hole I really don’t want to fall into right now.

I just want to enjoy this moment. I don’t want to spoil it. After all, it’s not like I want anything else from him. I’m not exactly expecting him to pull out a ring and propose to me. As unbelievably earth-shattering as what just happened was, I’d be a fool to think it was anything more than just sex.

Which shouldn’t make me feel quite as disappointed as I do.

Hawk pulls me to him for a deep, lingering kiss, and then releases me with a groan. “I could really use a glass of water.” He swings his legs over the edge of the bed.

“I can get you some,” I volunteer. “After all, it’s my house.”

“Nah, stay there. I’ll find it. You want some?”

“Yes, please,” I reply. Suddenly, I’m dying of thirst. I stretch my arms over my head with a big yawn. When he climbs out of the bed and walks out of the bedroom, all solid rippling muscles, I try not to let my jaw drop on the floor. I hear the sound of clinking glasses, then the faucet turning on and off a few times as he fills and drinks. Finally, he comes back in, a full glass in his hand. He stops at the doorway, naked and proud, and leans against the jamb, staring at me with a strange smirk on his face.

“What?” I ask defensively.

“That’s a good look on you,” he says, his eyes raking over my naked body.

I’m embarrassed, but I don’t want him to know that. Instead, I try for bravado. “What, better than the sundress?” I joke. “Not sure this ensemble would be acceptable in polite company.”

“Who said anything about polite company?” he growls, handing me the glass.

I take a few big gulps, and screw up my courage. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I dare to say.

Hawk grins at me and winks. “I know. I saw you staring at my magnificent ass.” He nods over at the mirror above my dresser.

I don’t have time to be mortified, because he lays down on the bed and takes the glass from me, setting it on the nightstand. “So,” he murmurs, wiggling his eyebrows. “Ready for round two?”

If anything, it’s better the second time than it was the first.

“Holy shit,” I pant. “I think I’ve gotten enough cardio exercise for the entire year.”

“You held up well,” he says, the corners of his mouth turning up in this incredibly sexy way that makes my stomach flutter every time he does it. He sinks back against the pillows and I nestle into the crook of his arm. I like Hawk like this — all relaxed and kind of sweet, almost. It’s a far cry from the cocky jackass I met at the wedding, or the sullen brooder I saw earlier today.

All the sex has made me feel boneless, and more relaxed than I’ve felt in I don’t know how long.

And then I screw it up.

“So, I know you might not be able to tell me,” I venture. “But is there something bothering you?” When Hawk doesn’t immediately answer, I plunge in further. “I mean, you seemed kind of upset earlier. At the festival.”

Hawk hasn’t moved a hair. His breathing hasn’t changed. But even so, somehow I can feel the temperature drop between us.

“No,” he says. His tone is like a door slamming. “Nothing’s wrong.”

I change the subject, but the damage has been done. Gone is his bantering tone from earlier, and any attempt to engage him in conversation just confirms he’s not really listening. About half an hour later, he detaches himself from me and says he needs to get going. I don’t try to stop him — what would I say? Instead, I watch in silence as he pulls on his jeans, then his shirt, and slides on his boots.

“Hey,” he says softly, just as he’s getting ready to head out the door. “I’ll be a little busy the next couple days. But I’ll see you soon. Okay?” He leans down, and with a tenderness I would never have known he possessed, he kisses me, and strokes my jaw softly with his thumb.

I don’t know why, but for some reason I feel like crying.

“Okay,” I say. It comes out a little wobbly. “See you around.”