He was having the best dream ever. A hot, wet mouth wrapped tightly around his dick, sucking him as hard as a Hoover vacuum. His hips rose off the bed and he dug his fingers into the mattress.

Damn. He couldn’t come, he’d mess up his sheets.

Fingers wrapped firmly around the root and pumped him as a tongue lapped at the tip. Then soft lips encased the head, capturing the precum that kept escaping the end.

Fuck.

He didn’t want to wake up because he didn’t want it to end.

Nails scraped over his balls and he grunted. He couldn’t believe how realistic this dream was.

Then, somehow the dream took a turn and a slim finger was up his ass, stroking his prostate. He bellowed—and it wasn’t in protest—as his eyes popped open and he came hard, his dick throbbing intensely and his cum spurting endlessly down her throat.

At last, his body relaxed, melting into the mattress, and he looked down at the woman who had swallowed every drop of him. The woman who had a finger up his ass.

What. The. Fuck!

Kiki smiled up at him around his cock. He didn’t return it.

“Spent ten days in jail recently an’ no one got near my ass. Then wake up to you violatin’ me.”

She rubbed the shiny, wet crown of his dick along her grinning lips. For fuck’s sake, he had to admit that was hot and if he hadn’t just blown his load, he’d be ready to blow it again.

“Aw, you didn’t enjoy that?” she teased.

“Feel like crawlin’ into a ball in the corner an’ cryin’ like a fuckin’ baby.”

She had the nerve to laugh. Laugh! Fuck that.

“I guess you never had that done to you before.”

“That would be a big fat fuckin’ no,” he grumbled. He gave her the stink eye. “Mind removin’ it from my ass now?”

She giggled again. “Sure.” She wiggled her finger and he jerked away from her, dislodging the offending digit. She slipped from the bed, then padded barefoot and naked into the bathroom. He heard the sink run, the toilet flush and then she was back, climbing into bed with him, snuggling against his side.

He wrapped an arm tightly around her and sighed with contentment. “Where’d you learn that?”

“The Internet.”

“Right,” he grunted. As many times as he’d shoved his fingers and his dick up a woman’s ass, he’d never had it done to him, the dick part he never would.

But he had to admit, she had a touch that made him lose his shit.

“Don’t ever tell anyone you did that.”

She giggled softly again, patted his stomach, and snuggled closer. “Okay.”

“Never goin’ to ask you to do that again.”

She lifted her head and he avoided her gaze. “I see how you worded that.”

“Right,” he grumbled.

“So... you liked it.”

He grunted, and twisted his fingers within the long length of her hair. When he finally sneaked a peek at her, she was grinning from ear to ear.

“Got it,” she whispered.

“Good,” he answered. “How’d you get in here?”

“Jazz.”

Of course. He looked over at the clock on the nightstand. “You’re up early.”

“Hawk, it’s ten.”

He wound a strand of her hair around his finger then tugged it. “Yeah, early. Bar’s open ‘til two. Work ‘til three. Don’t fall asleep ‘til four.”

Her fingers brushed over his chest and she circled a fingertip around one of his nipples. When she scraped the tip of it with her nail, he shuddered. Goddamn.

“I know.”

Against his better judgement he stated, “Weren’t here last night.” There was nothing obligating her to sleep in his bed while waiting for him to come home, but he was always pleased when she was. And he hated to admit he was disappointed when she wasn’t.

“I had some late clients.”

He cocked a brow. “How late?”

She slid farther up his side, placed her thigh over his, and nuzzled her nose into his neck. Damn, he liked that.

“I had dinner with one and drinks afterward with another.”

His body tensed and he stilled his fingers that were tracing the curves of her waist and hip. “That normal?”

“I try to avoid it when I can. Sometimes I can’t.”

“Don’t like you goin’ out at night with a man. Dinner or drinks.”

“Who said they were men?”

Right. He tried to catch her gaze but she was avoiding it. “Were they?”

She sighed. “Yes.”

His nostrils flared and his blood surged through him. He blew out a forceful breath and shut his eyes until his temper cooled down a few degrees.

Pressing her lips against his throat, she laid a path of kisses along his skin. “I can’t be here every night, Hawk. I don’t live here and we’re not even what I’d consider dating.”

He opened his eyes and stared at her. It fucking killed him how beautiful she was. She shouldn’t be in his bed. She should be in some rich fucker’s bed, bearing his well-off children, and being spoiled with overpriced jewelry, expensive cars and fancy vacations.

He could give her none of that.

The only thing he could give her hung between his legs.

God-fucking-damnit.

“I have my own life, my own career, and my own place. I can’t always be away from it.”

The air rushed out of him and the disappointment rushed right in. “Right.”

“It is what it is.”

His jaw tightened. He fucking hated that saying. “An’ what is it?”

“I don’t know,” she answered so softly that he almost didn’t hear her.

That was a bullshit answer. “Right,” he repeated.

“Hawk...”

“Quiet, Kiki.”

He felt her lift her head, but he stared at the ceiling. His chest was tight; his blood pounded through every vein and artery in his body. A sharp pain shot through his brain.

“Hawk,” she started again.

“Seriously, shut it.” She needed to stop talking, otherwise he might go ape shit and say something he might or might not regret. Either way, it wouldn’t be good.

“Right,” she echoed him, now just as tense as him. “Maybe I should go.”

“Right.”

“I guess I’ll see you at the fundraiser,” she said softly.

His breath rushed out of him. The Dogs & Hogs fundraiser was a month away. Fuck.

“Yep.”

He continued to stare at the ceiling as he listened to her gather her clothes, get dressed, and head downstairs. Though, he had to strain to hear the soft click of the front door closing.

He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself not to jump out of bed to chase her down as her Vette roared to life and he heard her back out of his driveway. Her tires chirped for a split second when she gave the six hundred-fifty horsepower engine gas and accelerated at a high rate of speed down the street.

Hawk flipped over onto his belly and punched the pillow, then shoved his face into it and screamed.

* * *

Hawk’s gaze swept the fairgrounds and landed on the area where he knew Kiki’s pop-up tent and table would be set up. He was surprised to see a line of people snaking out from under the tent. His eyes shifted to the kissing booth not twenty feet from her location, then flicked back to the “legal aid” table, then back again to Dawg’s girls in the booth.

What the fuck?

Her line was longer than the kissing booth’s, but like the kissing booth it was made up completely of men.

He never should have gone on the Poker Run this morning. But he needed to clear his head and he thought taking his bike out to enjoy the early morning air would help. It didn’t.

Why? Because he knew he’d finally see Kiki again after a whole fucking month of not. Which was bullshit.

But for the best.

Sure. Fucking goddamn.

His bed had been empty for almost thirty days. Even his bed at fucking church. He didn’t touch anyone else for almost thirty whole days. That was worse than doing the ten days in County.

Right now, he couldn’t stomach any of the pussy that had been offered up. Maybe after today things would go back to normal. He would see her, remind himself that she was way out of his league, that her not showing up in his bed was for the best, and get back to quick and meaningless fucks.

Once he dealt with seeing Kiki today, she’d sign off on all the hours he put into this fundraiser and he’d be free from the court’s judgment. For the most part.

And she’d be free of him, too.

He’d just need to keep his nose clean awhile longer and get off probation.

He strode across the trampled fairground grass, pleased that they had a great turnout, but annoyed that he had to push through so many people to get to her.

When he got to the crowd at her tent, he shoved his way through.

“There’s a line,” came a grumble behind him.

Hawk ignored the gripes, groans and bitching as he worked his way through the line to move around to the back of the table. She had a clear plastic barrel, with a sign taped to it that read “donations,” sitting at one corner of the table and it was stuffed full of dough.

As he stepped beside her, deep blue eyes slowly rose up his body until they hit his face.

“Hey,” she said softly. Then turned her attention back to the guy sitting in the chair on the other side of the table.

Hey? That was all she had to say?

He let his gaze roam over her like a starved man. It felt like he hadn’t seen her in more than a month. More like a year.

Fuckin’ A.

Now that he was up close and personal, he could see exactly why she had such a crowd. It wasn’t because it took longer to give free legal advice than a kiss. It was because she wore tight jeans with frayed holes strategically placed, and a super snug black DAMC camisole which did nothing but emphasize her fucking tits. She had to be wearing some sort of push-up bra, or even no bra at all, since her cleavage was mounding out of the top begging to be stared at. Or even touched.

Her tits had to be almost as big as some of Dawg’s girls, but hers were one hundred percent natural. Soft, squeezable, and certainly fucking suck-worthy.

His fingers clenched into fists. He was going to lose his mind.

“Where’d you get that?” he growled.

Her eyes jumped from the guy she was talking to back to him. “What?”

“What you’re wearin’.”

Her fingers automatically went to one of the thin straps that curved over her bare shoulder. His eyes and probably every other man’s in eyeball view went the same direction. Too bad it wasn’t winter when she’d have to wear a turtleneck and a thick coat.

“One of the girls gave it to me. We’re all wearing the same thing.”

“Didn’t they have your size?”

“This is my size.”

No way. It was way too small for her. “The fuck it is.”

Her eyes narrowed and her eyebrows dropped low. “Hawk... I’m in the middle of—”

“Know what the fuck you’re in the middle of. Need to go change.”

“I didn’t bring anything else.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered. He looked over at the line of all men. “Closin’ this down.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, I am.”

She slammed her palm down on the table, making the man sitting across from her jump. She pushed to her feet and drew herself to full height, even though it was a good eight inches shorter than his six-foot-four.

She sucked in a deep breath, which, of course made her tits look even bigger, and let it rip. “I’m in the middle of raising money for this event. You were the one who volunteered my time to do this.” She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. Her eyes narrowed and became heated. “You were the one who didn’t even have the courtesy to ask me first. You were the one who got arrested and it was because of your actions that you needed to do community service. I’m here because of you!”

He winced.

Shit.

His eyes once again went down the line of men, who now all stood smiling and looking like they were about to cheer her on.

“So...” she continued loudly. “I’m going to finish what I started and you’re not going to say shit about it. Got me?”

Fuck him.

The whole time she was yelling at him, her tits jiggled wildly and he now had a half of a hard-on.

He ought to just throw her over his shoulder, toss her on the back of his sled and haul her ass home to fuck the shit out of her.

That’s what he should do.

That’s not what he did.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “We’ll talk later.”

“Fine,” she snapped, then settled back into her chair and apologized to the man she had been helping.

Clearly, he had been dismissed.

With a last look at her, he realized he needed to have a little discussion about those jeans she was wearing, too.

He pushed back through the crowd and saw Zak standing on the other side of the line. He was not fighting back his laughter. Not one bit. When Hawk approached, Z held his hand out, palm up.

Hawk frowned at it. “What?”

“Hand over your fuckin’ man card.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered and headed toward the beer tent, hoping he had enough cash on him to get shit-faced.