Chapter Four

The farms at the outer edge of Sector Six were beautiful, like something out of a kids' storybook. The gently rolling hills had been cleared of scrub and planted in lush green plots, some with crops and others with grass for grazing animals. Cabins and barns dotted the landscape, and people milled around them, carrying out their midmorning chores.

This was Hawk's home, a quiet, peaceful world so far removed from the city that it might as well be on another planet.

They passed a fenced-off gravel road that wound toward a large farmhouse perched on a hill, and Hawk nodded toward it. “That's Anderson's farm. They're our closest neighbors. Three of my stepmothers are Andersons.”

She blinked. “So some of your brothers and sisters are also cousins?”

“Sounds more fucked up than it is. I told you, the head wife keeps records on everyone's bloodlines.” He snorted. “Probably next to the ones they keep on the cows and horses. We're all good, hardy stock. Bred to be tough.”

Jeni barely managed not to wrinkle her nose in disgust. “No romance. You weren't kidding.”

“They don't have time for romance. It's a hard life. You work until you can't take another step, or you have babies until it kills you.”

It cast the lush green land in a whole new light—a sickly pallor that raised goose bumps on Jeni's arms. “That's terrible.”

“It's the reality. Eden's tithes are so high…” He exhaled roughly. “Shipp saved us from that. The smuggling runs make enough money to buy us some breathing room. But the only real hope is for Dallas to pull off this revolution.”

It was easy to think of the fight against Eden in strict, direct terms now—if they didn't defeat the city, they'd all be crushed, or worse. But it had started because of the city slowly encroaching on the livelihood of the surrounding sectors. They always wanted more—more food, more energy, more of the resources sector-dwellers gave their time, effort, and sometimes blood to procure or produce.

“Dallas will win,” she told Hawk confidently. “There's no other option I'm willing to consider.”

“If anyone can pull it off, it's him.” Hawk shifted gears as they started up a curving hill. “Get ready. When we reach the top, you'll be able to see the farm.”

What lay in the valley before them looked like the rest of the area, but with one difference that proved the truth of Hawk's words—smuggling had been very, very good to them. Besides the cars that clustered around a barn back beyond the main house, there were pieces of fairly modern equipment that Jeni hadn't seen at the other farms.

Her jittery nerves had calmed a bit, soothed by the rough but velvet cadence of Hawk's voice. They returned now with a vengeance as people turned to watch their approach.

“Steady,” he murmured, resting one hand on her leg. His palm was massive, large enough to engulf her knee, and his touch burned even through her clothes. “You're an O'Kane, honey. You eat backwoods farmers for breakfast.”

He was teasing her, and she couldn't resist throwing it right back at him. “Just the ones I really like.”

His fingers tightened, and his voice lowered. “You gonna eat me for breakfast, Jeni?”

Even with the windows down, there was no air in the car. “Wouldn't dream of it,” she rasped. “I mean, you've got plans for me, right?”

“Oh yeah.” He steered with one hand, guiding them down the hill as his thumb teased suggestive circles on the outside of her knee. “You have no idea.”

Maybe this was what he'd been waiting for, what he needed. To get her on familiar territory, someplace where he was comfortable enough to open up in spite of the differences between them.

She would have asked, but the front door of the main house opened, and a tall woman stepped out. Jeni had spent most of her life around powerful women, and there was no mistaking this one's posture or the air of command that surrounded her.

Everything here was hers.

Hawk coasted to a stop and parked the car. Then he was out the door before Jeni could say a word, circling to open the passenger side for her.

He held out his hand to help her. She took it automatically, but all thoughts of letting go again vanished the moment his fingers wrapped around hers. It was one point of contact, chaste by anyone's standards, but something about the way he looked down at her as she climbed from the car…

Her skin heated, and everything else disappeared. They were alone in the world, wreathed in a tension so palpable that it connected them as surely as their clasped hands.

Then he smiled and tugged her toward the farmhouse. “Come meet Alya.”

The words broke through the sensual haze, and she willed herself not to blush as they turned toward the porch. The woman standing there had hints of Hawk in her features. They had the same hazel eyes, the same nose, a certain similarity in the tilts of their chins.

Alya's gaze locked on their entwined fingers. When she looked up, she studied Jeni appraisingly, curiosity warring with something darker. It wasn't judgment—Jeni was too familiar with that, would have recognized it in a heartbeat—but Hawk's mother definitely wasn't particularly happy to see her.

That changed in an instant when she turned to Hawk. Her gaze warmed, and her mouth curved into a smile as she leaned one hip against the porch railing. “You better have a trunk full of that fine Sector Four whiskey, or Big John'll toss you halfway back to O'Kane territory.”

“Big John's getting old,” Hawk replied with a grin. He tugged Jeni up the steps before releasing her to wrap his mother in a hug. “He couldn't toss me past the end of the driveway these days.”

“Don't let him hear you say that.” Alya hugged her son fiercely, then released him and returned her attention to Jeni. “And who's this?”

“This is Jeni.” Hawk settled his hand at the small of Jeni's back, warm and encouraging. “Jeni, meet my mother, Alya.”

She held out her hand, willing her fingers not to tremble. “Hi.”

Alya's grip was as warm and firm as Lex's. “Nice to meet you, Jeni. Welcome to my farm.”

“Thank you. It's beautiful.”

“It has its moments.” Alya turned for the door. “Why don't you two come inside? We have leftovers from breakfast, and you can get Jeni settled in.”

“I was going to show her around first—”

“Hawk.” Alya cut him off firmly. “I know you have manners in there somewhere. Your girl could use a bite to eat and a little time to catch her breath. Shipp'll be back from a run tonight, and that means a rally. Let her rest up.”

Alya disappeared into the farmhouse, and Hawk exhaled on a laugh. “You should have been there the first time she and Lex met.”

It wasn't hard to imagine. “Badass lady standoff of epic proportions?”

“I wasn't sure if they were going to love or kill each other.” Hawk smiled. “Dallas had no doubts. He says Alya's the reason I'm the only new recruit who's never pissed Lex off.”

“Makes sense.” So much about him still didn't, but at least he was comfortable here, relaxed in ways she'd only glimpsed back in Four, and even then only in the rooftop gardens he'd helped cultivate.

Maybe he was right. Maybe everything she needed to know about him could be traced back to Six, to the wide-open spaces and the tilled earth and the quiet peace that hummed beneath the noises of a working farm. If people were products of their environments, then Hawk was Sector Six.

And she only had a few days to learn everything she could.

If Sector Six had a version of fight night, it was a rally.

It had been fifteen years since the first one. Fifteen years since he'd rolled back onto the farm, young and angry and determined to rescue his mother, one way or another.

Shipp had been the knight in shining armor that day. Though he was only five years Hawk's senior, Shipp had seemed decades older in maturity and poise. He was like Dallas—a person with the inner strength and charisma that it took to draw men looking for someone to believe in, along with the steel will required to get the job done.

Fifteen years ago, that had meant preventing Hawk from committing patricide.

At first, Hawk had resented Shipp for thwarting his revenge. It had taken years for him to understand that the only reward he could have claimed for killing his own father would have been a lifetime of looking himself in the mirror, too aware of the blood on his hands.

Shipp had understood. And he'd taken on that burden, just like he'd taken on the burden of protecting the bruised, terrified victims of Hawk's father's legacy. That first rally could have been a disaster waiting to happen—a crew of outlaw smugglers and a farm full of women and children still reeling from their unexpected freedom.

Instead, they'd found common ground. Drinking, dancing, and driving. Laughter and food, and celebrating the heady feeling of being so far from Eden, you could almost forget they were there at all.

Tonight, people seemed to want to forget. The cars were gathered in the field, headlights illuminating the darkness as engines purred and music blared. Jeni was down there in a cluster of Hawk's sisters, still nervous but smiling, and so gorgeous he wanted to sweep her up and lure her into the shadows.

The couples sneaking away were headed to rendezvous plenty tame by O'Kane standards—but there was a charm to kissing in the darkness, frustration burning until the need for more was unbearable. Tension could be delicious when you knew it didn't have to last forever.

But Eden was out there. And he had to talk business before indulging himself. “It's getting bad, Shipp.”

“Yeah?” Shipp lit a cigarette, the lighter and the tip both flaring in the darkness. “You're going to have to be more specific.”

“Everyone thought they'd have made a move by now.” Hawk shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets and tried not to stare back toward the city. It shouldn't have been visible at all from the farm, but the new lights charging the walls created an ominous glow to the east. “Hunger's going to drive them out. And you know what that means.”

“Course I do. I know how wars work, Hawk.” Shipp gazed out at the revelers in the clearing, cast in harsh relief by the headlights. “Food's always the thing. Either an army will need it, or they'll want to make damn sure their enemies can't use it.” He arched an eyebrow. “We should probably be glad your new boss hasn't burned us to the ground already, just in case.”

No one in Sector Four had said it—at least where Hawk could hear—but he saw it in their eyes. He saw it in the way they refused to look at him every time Jyoti delivered an update on the state of the farms and communes—food the sectors had access to that stood beyond Eden's reach.

Dallas didn't need Sector Six to win the war, and he couldn't afford to let Eden get their hands on it. “There's land on the edge of Four, Shipp. The girls are doing great with their farm. Round everyone up and get the hell out of here before anything happens.”

Shipp snorted. “You know better. Your mama's not leaving this place while there are still two boards to rub together.”

He knew. For twenty-five years, this place had been hell on earth for Alya—but for the last fifteen it had been hers, the land she'd reclaimed inch by inch, stone by stone. She and Shipp had built it into a secret haven for lost wanderers and runaway children.

She wouldn't give it up any more than Dallas would abandon the Broken Circle. “She may not have a choice.”

“If it comes to that, I'll pick her up and carry her myself,” Shipp agreed. “But it has to be down to that—no other choice. You understand.”

“I understand.” He squeezed Shipp's shoulder. “Laurie and Tanya mentioned wanting to move over to Four. Dallas said I can put some of the new recruits to work building another couple barns and an addition on the house. Anyone else who wants to come, we'll have room. And you know I'll take care of them.”

“Yeah, you will.” The corner of Shipp's mouth tilted up. “You're all-in on the O'Kane shit these days, you and Finn. Brotherhood, booze, and cute little redheads.”

Hawk found Jeni in the crowd again. Her hair was half up, pulled away from her face to cascade down her back in soft waves. Her endless variations fascinated him almost as much as the way she could disappear behind wigs and makeup. He'd learned to hide his expressions behind a single blank mask, but Jeni had a hundred of them, and the truth of her was in the precious, rare places where they all overlapped.

“She's not mine,” Hawk replied softly. And because it was Shipp, who wasn't quite a father but was so much more than a friend, he added the truth. “Not yet.”

“No?”

“I'm working on it.”

Shipp was silent as he finished his cigarette. Then he crushed it out on the bottom of his boot and turned to Hawk. “Sometimes you have to take a chance. Go ahead and jump, even if you're not sure how you're gonna land.”

From anyone else, it would have been casual advice. But Shipp knew. The whole sordid story, the reason Hawk had been chased away from his home to begin with. Damn near half his life ago, but the pain of it still surprised him sometimes. Like a bruise he forgot was there until someone slammed into it just right.

O'Kanes didn't do jealousy, but Hawk sure as fuck did. And this was a hell of a bad time to piss off the O'Kanes. “It's complicated, man.”

“Isn't everything?” Shipp jerked his head toward a small cluster of cars just outside the circle in the field. “I want to show you something.”

Hawk followed him, nodding when people broke off to greet him and returning the hugs from sisters and shoulder slaps from brothers. The crowd surged around him, ebbing and flowing, so familiar the sense of disconnect from the last month only grew.

The tension plaguing Four seemed so distant. The people here weren't partying harder as they stared down oblivion. They were just partying. The war was still abstract to them. They had their solar power, their chores, the same lives they'd been living all along.

Hawk could fool himself into thinking he'd lure them to safety, but they wouldn't hear him. Not while their illusions of peace held strong.

The men who stood around the cars here weren't farmers, strictly speaking. Their cars were a little beat up, and everything that wasn't essential had been stripped out of them to make room for hauling. Half the cars had engines that were too big for them, so they'd had to weld counterweights to the back frame to maintain stability.

The cars were rough, but they ran like a dream, and so did the men who drove them. This was Shipp's crew, his family, and it showed.

“Big John.” Shipp caught his towering friend in a one-armed hug. “Hold down the fort okay while I was gone?”

“Still here, ain't it?” Big John grinned and tossed Hawk a nearly empty bottle of liquor. “If you can stand to drink anything but O'Kane's finest these days.”

Shipp grimaced. “Don't do it, Hawk. You have too much to live for. John's moonshine tastes like shit.”

Not drinking wasn't an option. Big John wasn't just Shipp's oldest friend—he was Shipp's oldest friend, a legitimate badass who'd been orphaned during the Flares and had still come through the aftermath kicking.

The bottle was a test. A dangerous one—the worst of the rotgut the O'Kanes peddled still went down smooth compared to the shit John cooked up. Hell, diesel went down smoother. That didn't stop Hawk from twisting off the top and letting the moonshine burn through his tongue on its way to his stomach.

“All right, all right.” Big John retrieved the bottle with a grin as the rest of Shipp's team hooted and cheered.

“That's enough.” Something serious lurked beneath Shipp's lazy amusement. “It's time to show the boy our Plan B.”

Big John nodded and popped open the trunk of his car. Inside were wooden crates and weathered jugs, all packed in there as tightly as possible.

Shipp pried open one crate. At first, Hawk thought there were weapons nestled amongst the hay. Then he looked closer and saw that they were flare guns, the simple kind that were nothing more than large tubes and triggers.

He whistled as he lifted one from the crate. “Where'd you get your hands on these?”

“A man's gotta have his secrets,” Shipp answered flatly. “If city forces breach the sector, we need a way to warn the others. We'll distribute these to the farmers and settlers, make sure they know how to use them.”

It was a clever solution, one Eden couldn't thwart. And Shipp wouldn't just be distributing them. By the time he was done, everyone would have an evacuation plan in place. They'd know what to grab, where to go, how to get out.

If only that was enough. Hawk set the tube back in the crate and made himself say the damn words. “If it comes to that, you know what you have to do. The whole damn sector has to burn.”

“What do you think these are for?” Shipp thumped a jug, then grabbed the bottle from Big John's hand and swirled it around, one eyebrow raised. “Least this shit's good for something.”

“I was drinking that,” John said mildly.

Shipp relinquished the rotgut with a snort. “It's your liver, old man.”

They were still cracking jokes, and Hawk couldn't tell if they didn't believe the danger was real, or if they'd skated past horror and straight into laughing in the face of the inevitable. He was still stuck in between, having to imagine Shipp hauling a screaming Alya away from her burning farm.

It was gonna take a while for that mental image to stop hurting.

Shipp sobered, his morbid humor fading. “Go,” he told him quietly. “Enjoy the rest of the party.”

Hawk squeezed his shoulder again, then turned toward Jeni. She still stood in a tight knot with two of his sisters. Not even that far away, but getting to her…

In Sector Four, folks melted out of his path. It only took one glance at the O'Kane ink on his wrists to clear the way. Here, the crowd contracted. People were eager to see him, to ask questions about the world beyond the farm, about the O'Kanes, about him. It was a welcome that warmed his heart and tried his patience at the same time.

He broke free of the final circle—three of his youngest brothers begging him to come look at the car they were working on—after promising a longer visit in the morning. Then it was just Bethany and Luna, and he braced himself for whatever stories they had to be telling Jeni. Especially Bethany—she'd been born the week before him, to their father's second wife, and had witnessed the most spectacular embarrassments of his childhood.

“—is amazing,” Bethany was saying as Hawk slid up next to Jeni. “Where did you find it?”

“The city has a ton of old books in their files,” Jeni answered. “I can get you a copy.”

“We'd owe you big.” Bethany grinned at Hawk. “You brought us a smart one. She's going to cure your mama's horse.”

Of all the conversations he'd been imagining… He quirked an eyebrow at Jeni. “You know about horses?”

“God, no.” She laughed and shook her head. “I read a book.”

And clearly remembered it well enough to impress Bethany, which was its own miracle. Bethany might not be Alya's daughter by blood, but she was heir apparent to Alya's empire and took the farm seriously.

Luna bumped her shoulder against his. “If you're thinking about stealing your girl away, forget it. We're having a discussion here.”

His girl. No matter what he said to Shipp, the words felt right. Hawk looped his arm around Jeni's waist. “She'll still be here tomorrow, but the dancing won't be. You gonna spoil her first rally?”

Luna dropped her head back with a disgusted noise. “Ugh, fine. Still plenty of time to tell stories, I guess.”

Hawk made a mental note to keep Jeni far away from his sisters for the rest of the night. Maybe for the rest of the trip. “Behave,” he shot back, already tugging Jeni toward the shadows. “I know stories, too. Stories I could tell a certain smuggler…”

Luna's face went red, and she muttered something under her breath, something foul enough to make Bethany burst out laughing.

A momentary victory, but enough of one to make their escape. Hawk caught Jeni's hand and led her between two cars and out into the darkness. “Horses, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” She squeezed his hand. “Your family is nice.”

“Most of 'em, most of the time. But it's not much like Sector Four.”

“No, it isn't.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper. “It helps, though. I might even be starting to figure you out.”

He turned them both toward a gentle rise covered with trees—the closest thing to privacy on a rally night, when the barns would be full of people stealing kisses. “And what are you figuring out, Jeni?”

“Too early to say,” she demurred. “Where are we going?”

“Someplace quiet.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “Someplace where I don't have to share you.”

She fell silent, following him as he crested the hill. Then she sucked in a breath and stared out at the horizon, away from the city, at a sky heavy with stars. “How did you ever leave this place?”

Hawk gave in to temptation and stroked his fingers lightly over her hair. “I didn't have a choice the first time. My father kicked me out. It happens a lot with sons who disappoint.”

She looked up at him with questions in her eyes, her gaze sliding over his face like she could find all the answers there if she just stared long enough. Eventually, she smiled. “But you came back. And then you left again.”

“Because someone had to help Trix and Finn get back to Sector Four.” He wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger and tugged lightly. “I stayed for the wrong reasons at first. And then I stayed for the right ones. Dallas is worth supporting.”

Her smile deepened, and she turned her face back toward the darkness.

That smile tugged at the parts of him he didn't like, the jealous, dark parts. She'd smiled at Dallas like that during the last meeting, as sweet and affectionate as the touches they'd exchanged. Dallas had stroked her hair, just like Hawk was now. Jeni had kissed his cheek.

And Hawk had seethed with envy.

“Is that the reason?” he asked, not wanting to know the answer and still unable to stop himself from asking. “Dallas and Lex. Are they why you're not ready?”

Jeni stiffened. “I wasn't thinking of them at all, actually. I was laughing at myself a little. For a minute, I thought…” She exhaled sharply. “I thought you might say that part of the reason you stayed in Four was for me.”

He let his thumb drift to her cheek and traced down to her jaw. “I can't say it. I'm already worried about scaring you off. If you find out how long I've been watching you, you'll run for it.”

“You offered me a collar, Hawk. I assume you've been thinking about it for a while.” A breeze blew strands of hair across her parted lips, and she brushed them away as she turned to him. “Show me.”

She was so small. He never really noticed until they were this close, until he was staring down at her lips, calculating how long it would take to close the distance between them. He wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her firmly against him and up, until she was balanced on her toes, and he still had to bend down to claim her lips.

Jeni wound her arms around his neck and tilted her face to his, upsetting her already precarious balance. But she didn't cling to him for support. Instead, her hands skated over his back, slowly exploring as she trusted him to hold her.

She was at his mercy, even if only in the tiniest way, and it felt good. Dangerous, because reveling in that small victory twisted into craving more, and he was moving before he could stop himself. Kissing her harder, sinking his fingers into her hair as he bent her back over his arm.

Her tongue traced over his, teasing more than stroking. Licking and then dancing away, inviting him deeper. Daring him to take.

He groaned and caught her lower lip between his teeth, but that wasn't enough, either. Panting, he bit her jaw next, mere heartbeats from spilling her to the ground in a tangle of grasping hands and rent fabric.

“You're both,” he whispered instead. “I stayed for you when it was wrong. And when it was right.”

She was panting too, soft, maddening puffs of breath against his ear, and her hands trembled when she touched his face, held him there. “Thank you.”

The moonlight filtered through the trees in teasing patches. He could see her eyes, her smile, the masses of hair curled around his fist. But so much was in shadow, just like that night in the courtyard behind the warehouse.

Except no one would see them here. No one would witness the fracture in his self-control except for Jeni.

He claimed her mouth again, rougher this time, driving his tongue between her lips before she could tease him. So she teased him in other ways, gliding her hands down to the small of his back. She made a low, approving noise in the back of her throat when her fingers encountered the bare skin beneath his shirt, and another when he tightened his hand in her hair.

Three steps behind them was a flat, knee-high rock, a popular place to sit and stare up at the night sky. Hawk sank to it and pulled Jeni with him, tugging her astride his lap. The thin skirt of her sweet cotton dress rode up her thighs, but he was focused on the ties at her shoulders. One firm tug and her dress slipped open on one side, baring the swell of her breast.

He still had one hand buried in her hair. It was so easy to guide her head back, to stroke his other hand down the soft skin of her exposed throat. Her pulse raced beneath his fingertips, and he lingered there for a moment before sliding lower, scraping her skin lightly with his nails. “You're so beautiful.”

She wiggled closer, pressing her hips tight against his. The contact made her shudder and flush beneath his touch.

Slow down. His brain knew the right thing to do, but his body wouldn't listen. He tugged at the cute little bow on her other shoulder and pushed the fabric down to her waist. Her skin was far too delicate to suffer his work-roughened touch, but she only squirmed harder as he circled the tight peak of one nipple.

He'd watched her touch herself on that damn stage night after night, had gone home hard and aching only to close his eyes and imagine his hands in place of hers, stroking and teasing and pinching. But he of all people knew that the Jeni who danced on that stage was a character. An act that stood a little off-center, holding parts of her but never all of her.

The command bubbled up from deep inside him, slipping free before he could stop it. “Touch your nipples. Show me what you like.”

She obeyed with whisper-soft caresses, her fingertips barely skimming her flesh. In the darkness, it could have been an illusion that she was touching herself at all, except for the way her nipples hardened more with every delicate brush of her fingers.

Then, suddenly, she pinched them—hard, hard enough to drive her teeth into her lower lip and elicit another, longer shudder.

Fucking hell. “Again.”

She dropped her hands to her lap—and dangerously close to his dick. “No.”

Not a denial, but a challenge. He recognized the spark in her eye, the mischief, the dare. How many parties had he attended where Noelle sassed Jasper with that gleeful light in her eyes, only to end up over his knee or over his shoulder, hauled away to some private, far more intimate punishment?

Hawk imagined it. He couldn't fucking stop himself. Jeni, across his legs, her little pastel plaid skirt tossed up over her ass. Squirming and whimpering as he spanked her until her skin was red and her thighs were slick with arousal, and he barely had to touch her to have her sobbing with relief and release.

When had his imagination gotten this damn vivid?

“Jeni,” he growled, dragging her head up with his grip in her hair. “Do. It. Again.”

She wanted to push him. He could see it in her eyes, lurking beneath the glazed pleasure. But she did as he commanded, cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples between her fingers until he couldn't stand just watching anymore, so he bent his head and licked her fingers.

Jeni muffled her moan against his temple. “Please.”

The plea shot through him, straight to where she was rocking against his dick like she was going to grind herself to orgasm. A part of him he hadn't realized was there drove him to drop a hand to her hip, stilling her restless movements, forcing her to endure the tease of his breath feathering over her. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” Her chest heaved, brushing her nipple against his lower lip. “I ache. And it doesn't matter how many times I get myself off, it never goes away.”

He dragged his tongue across the straining tip and relished her tiny, desperate noise. She was electric under his touch, so responsive he knew he could get her there. “Put your hands on my shoulders.”

Her fingers dug into his neck and shoulders, clenching, as if testing his strength through his thin T-shirt. He left one hand on her hip and slid the other up to tease his thumb over the nipple still wet from his tongue. “Try it now. Make yourself come.”

Her eyes locked with his. She held his gaze, even when the first tiny rock of her hips had her lashes fluttering down in pure, agonizing pleasure. She watched him, riveted, as she did it again, and again—nothing as coordinated as the way he'd seen her move on stage, but something new. Desperate.

Something that was only his.

Need throbbed in time with the rhythm of her hips, an ache that warned him he was too far gone to come back. But he didn't give a shit if he exploded in his jeans like an anxious teenager—as long as she kept moving, kept moaning, kept trembling like she felt just as lost, just as untried.

He rolled his thumb over her nipple again, earning a hitch in her breath. But soft wasn't what either of them wanted.

His head swimming, he brought his thumb and finger together and pinched until she choked out a curse and covered his hand with hers, holding his fingers to her ravaged skin.

Pain and pleasure. She wanted both, needed both. And it felt so very, very good to give it to her.

Jeni ground against him, harder with every pounding heartbeat. He could feel her heat through their clothes, so seductive he had to grit his teeth. She threw her head back like she was going to scream, so he started to cover her mouth, but all she did was breathe his name, one syllable wrapped in a whispering sigh and a groan of sheer, absolute relief.

His heart pounding, Hawk dragged her close to his chest, wrapping both arms around her to protect her bare skin from the cool evening breeze. “You okay?”

“Yes.” The word left her on a soft laugh, one that tickled the crook of his neck. Her teeth scraped his skin, and she sat back, as if she couldn't even feel the night chill.

Then she dropped her hands to his belt. She unbuckled it without looking away from his face, and the only thing more arresting than what she was doing was the way she was watching him—waiting, a question in her eyes.

He could stop her. Maybe should. But every brush of her fingertips across the denim covering his straining cock stoked his arousal, and he was flesh and blood. Just a man, unable to resist temptation when it stared at him with huge, pleasure-glazed eyes.

He cupped her cheek and pressed his thumb to her lips. The soft command he uttered was absolutely wrong—and so, so right. “Use your mouth.”

She slid off his lap, rising before dropping to her knees at his feet. Every movement was careful, deliberate. Perfect obedience, a submission that went beyond the illusion of power and straight into the very heart of it.

Unbuttoning. Unzipping. By the time she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, he was grinding his fists against the rock to keep from tangling his hands in her hair and jerking her mouth down.

She licked her lips and then licked him, drawing her tongue in a lush, wet circle around the head of his cock.

“Fuck.” It was better than his imagination ever could have painted it, better than any goddamn thing he could remember. Because she was on her knees for him, her clothes askew, so disheveled she looked like he'd already fucked her, and he wasn't going to last if she kept teasing him.

His self-control snapped, and he laid one hand on the back of her head. “Now.” He tried to whisper, but it came out rough and dark instead, a snarl. “Suck me.”

Her lips slid around him, slick and hot and soft. She didn't tease, exactly—she didn't hesitate or hold back—but she took her time. Up and down her mouth worked, taking more of him with every advance, gently increasing the pressure until her cheeks were hollowed out, and Hawk couldn't resist her.

He didn't have to. This might be his first taste of Jeni and the dark passion that sizzled between them…but it wouldn't be the last.

The thought undid him. He stopped fighting the pleasure and gave in with a groan. Fire flooded him, and he spread his fingers wide at the back of Jeni's head, holding her in place as his hips jerked and he came on a rush of satisfaction.

She swallowed him with a moan, then soothed him with gentle flicks of her tongue. And while he gasped for breath, she laid her head on his thigh and waited.

As if he could catch his breath with her curled at his feet, sweet and patient. He stroked her cheek and ran his fingers through her tangled hair. “That was perfect.”

She smiled and bit his thumb.

“Brat.” Lazy pleasure spiraled through him as he bent and gathered her up into his arms. She came willingly, settling across his legs with her head tucked under his chin. He took his time running his hands up each leg, brushing away the dirt and pine needles, rubbing at the tiny indentions where pebbles had dug into her skin. “Still okay?”

“No.” Her fingers clenched in his shirt. “You make me want to stay here, where everything is so far away.”

Hawk wrapped both arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “I wish everything really was far away. It's easy to forget here, but it's dangerous, too. I don't want them to forget.”

Jeni touched his arm. “I know.”

The wind picked up, stirring through the trees above them. Jeni's skin broke out in goose bumps beneath his hands, and he urged her upright. Working in silence, he eased her dress back into place and tied it securely at each shoulder.

“So serious,” she whispered.

“I'll always be serious about taking care of you.” He smoothed her dress one last time and touched her chin, tilting her head back so she had to meet his eyes. “You deserve it.”

Her sudden smile was impish. “Are you starting to regret the fact that your mother banished you to the bunkhouse with the rest of Shipp's crew?”

He laughed and brushed a kiss to her lips. “Not even a little. This means I get to sneak you out to the barn tomorrow night.”

“Dirty.” Jeni glanced back toward the field. “We should probably rejoin the party. They're going to miss you.”

They already had, without a doubt. There'd be even more razzing when he hit the bunkhouse tonight, and his sisters would be unlivable, but he didn't give a shit. “Let them,” he murmured, turning her face back to his. “I'm not done kissing you.”

Jeni leaned into him, warm and pliant, as he captured her mouth with his. If he'd thought a couple of orgasms would ease the tension between them, she proved him wrong with the slow, lazy caress of her tongue and the eager heat of her body.

They'd barely scratched the surface of what they could be together. Now Hawk knew in his bones that she'd take him all the way down into his darkest, basest desires, and she'd love every minute of it.

Lord help him, so would he.