Kristen Ashley - Mystery Man

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Do you want vegetables for dinner?”

“Heck no.”

“Then get your ass up, get your shoes and get in the Camaro.”

“B-o-s-s-y.” I spelled it out like his Mom did earlier, moving to exit the recliner but his arms suddenly closed around me and I found myself plastered to his chest, his hand slid up to cup my head, tilt it then pull my lips down to his.

Then he kissed the smartass right out of me.

After that, I got up and did what I was ordered.

* * *

“Baby,” I breathed.

“You’re there,” Hawk growled in my ear, hand cupping my breast, fingers rolling my nipple, his other hand over mine, his finger manipulating mine at the golden spot while his cock drove inside me.

He was right, I was there. My head flew back, collided with his shoulder and I came. Hard.

His hand between my legs took mine and he wrapped both our arms around my middle, his other hand still cupping my breast as he drove me down and he thrust up, his face in my neck, his deep grunts shivering through me.

Then he ground me down as he pounded up, kept the connection and he growled into my neck.

“Baby,” I whispered, my neck twisting, his head came up, his mouth took mine and his tongue slid inside.

God, I loved the taste of him.

He held me close and connected as he kissed me then his mouth released mine. He pulled me off his cock, twisted me around, put me on my back in bed and followed me down. His body covered mine, his hips between mine, I wrapped my calves around his thighs and my arms around his back.

His face went into my neck and my fingers trailed the skin of his back.

“Hawk?” I called.

“No, baby, to answer your question, I’m not a superhero,” he said into my neck, my body stilled and I realized he was joking.

“Arrogant,” I remarked but I did it laughing.

His head came up, he smiled down at me and my hand automatically slid down, around, up his chest, his neck to cup his cheek, my thumb touching his dimple.

“Gwen?” I heard and I jerked my eyes from their contemplation of his dimple to his.

“Yeah?”

“You called me, babe.”

“I did?”

His smile got deeper; I saw it and felt it as his dimple moved under my thumb.

“Yeah, you did,” he answered.

“Sorry, I got mesmerized by your dimple.”

He went still then his face dipped close and he murmured, “Christ, like it when you’re sweet.”

I felt my body melt under his and my hand slid back across his hair.

“I remember what I wanted to say,” I told him softly.

“So say it, Sweet Pea,” he said softly back.

“Thank you for telling me about Ginger and Tack and being so nice about Mom.”

His hand came up and his fingers trailed my hairline before he whispered, “You’re welcome, baby.”

“And thank you for making me safe,” I went on.

“Gwen,” he whispered.

“And for trying to find Ginger.”

“You can stop now.”

I ignored him. “And for saving me from biker prison.”

“You already thanked me for that, even though you did it during a rant.”

“Well, thank you again because it was kind of filthy in there and I wasn’t a big fan of touching anything or, um… sitting on anything so that made it more uncomfortable than just being locked in a room for your own protection but against your will.”

“I’ll make sure Janine doesn’t fall down on the job,” he remarked.

“I’m being serious,” I said quietly.

His hand cupped the side of my head and his thumb circled at my temple.

“I know you are,” he quietly replied.

“My life is a mess,” I shared something he already knew.

“This will pass, Gwen.”

I pulled breath in through my nose and then said on the exhale, “I hope so.”

His hand slid down and his thumb glided across my lips. “One positive thing you learned today. It’s lookin’ good for you. Your Mom’s a mess, babe, but she’s still a babe.”

I felt my brows draw together. “Did you just call my Mom a babe?”

“You look like her,” he replied.

Well, that wasn’t so bad. My Mom was a mess, Hawk was right, but she had pretty kickass style.

“You act like Meredith,” Hawk cut into my thoughts.

I focused on him. “I do?”

“When you’re bein’ sweet and not ranting or hacking at cookie dough with cleavers.”

I smiled. “I didn’t hack at cookie dough with a cleaver.”

He grinned down at me. “It was close.”

He was right and I felt my body start to shake with laughter.

He watched me laugh until I was just smiling at him then he dipped his head and kissed the base of my throat. Then he rolled off me, pulled the covers over us, reached out to turn off the light on his nightstand and turned me so my back was tucked into his front. Then he pressed into me and reached across me to turn off the light on my nightstand. Then he pulled the hair off my neck and kissed the skin at the back of my ear. He wrapped his arm around me, pulled me deep, hitched my leg with his and settled into the pillows.

Hawk’s goodnight.

No slam bam thank you ma’am. Instead, talking, laughing then cuddling.

I guess I could deal with firebombs and drive-bys and learning my Mom was still a mess after all these years if this was how I ended my day.

I lay in the dark of Hawk’s cavernous warehouse, in his big bed, his big, warm body close, the memory of his goodnight sweet and fresh.

Yeah, I could deal with all that if this was how I ended my day.

But now I was wondering if Hawk felt the same.

My eyes opened and I saw it was dawn. There were lights on in the warehouse and I knew they were over the kitchen. I heard Hawk’s murmur, he was far away, on the phone.

I scooted to the edge of the bed, dropped my torso down and felt for my nightshirt. I found it, searched for my underwear, found that and lifted up. I pulled my nightshirt over my head, shoved my arms through and then shimmied my undies up while in the bed. Then I got out, wandered to the bathroom, did my thing, wandered out and down the stairs.

Hawk was still on the phone, dressed in uniform of skintight, long-sleeved tee and cargo pants. His hair was slightly wet and he already had his boots on.

He was leaning one hand into the back counter, he didn’t move and his eyes didn’t leave me as I walked his way. I lost sight of him when my body collided with is, my cheek pressed to his chest and my arms went around him. He took his hand off the counter and wrapped his arm around me.

“Yeah, report it to Lawson, set up the meet with Tack,” Hawk said into his phone.

I sighed into his chest. He wasn’t going about his own business, he was going about mine.

“Copy that,” he went on, “be there in twenty.”

He flipped his phone shut and shoved it into his cargos. I tipped my head back and looked up at him as his other arm closed around my shoulders.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, his chin dipped to look at me.

“Mm hmm,” I answered.

He dipped his chin further and his mouth touched mine as his arm around my back also dipped, scrunched up my nightshirt then he held it up with his arm as his hand cupped my ass, skin to panties.

Nice.

When his mouth went away I asked back, “Did you?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

I took in a breath and asked, “Is something going on?”

His arm at my shoulders squeezed as did his hand at my ass. “We have news.”

“Good news or bad news?”

“Both.”

“Uh-oh,” I mumbled.

“I don’t have a lot of time but do you need coffee before you hear it?”

“Is that your way of asking me if I need Valium before I hear it?”

He smiled and I got more squeezes.

Then he spoke. “Drive-by was about Ginger. Not Tack.”

“Is that the good news or the bad news?”

“The good, means we know who we’re lookin’ for and why they did what they did. Since Tack’s thrown down for you and I made things clear yesterday, they also know they bought themselves two sets of enemies they do not want. Ginger knows a lot, pissed off a lot of people and she can cause a lot of trouble, the police and Feds get to her, but she isn’t worth the heat my boys and the Chaos MC are gonna bring down on them. They bought that, pullin’ that shit, and they don’t want it and won’t want that heat to get hotter. It’s a guess but this means you and your parents are likely safe.”

“That is good news,” I noted.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we don’t play it smart. You with me?”

I wasn’t sure I was but I nodded anyway.

“What’s the bad news?” I asked.

He hesitated then explained, “Jorge took a meet with Dog yesterday. Apparently, you told Tack you were through with me and he took this as tacit permission to make his play. Seein’ as he’s Tack and not the kind of man who asks your sign, tells you he likes your smile, buys you a drink and hopes to get him some, but instead locks you in a room and thinks when he returns from causing havoc and exacting retribution, you’re gonna be waitin’ for him to do whatever he does to make his claim, he’s not feelin’ like backin’ down from war. It didn’t help that my boys bested his and captured the prize. Now there’s face to be saved. We sent in lieutenants and they weren’t able to make a deal. Now the captains have to meet.”

Oh boy.

“Do you want to go into more detail about war?” I asked but I wasn’t sure I wanted more detail.

“Did you tell him you were through with me?”

“Um…” I mumbled, trying to pull back a bit but his arm and hand got tighter so I stopped trying. “I was in a bad mood,” I explained.

“Shit, Gwen,” he muttered.

“I also told him I’d sworn off men and was going to take up hiking and set up a ferret rescue.”

He stared down at me. Then he said, “Babe, let me tell you something about men.”

Uh-oh.

“Um…” I began in an effort not to learn anything about men. Hawk wasn’t the only man who was a mystery to me. Men on the whole were a mystery to me. I had no clue why they did half the shit they did and I’d long since decided I didn’t want to know. You could spend decades trying to figure that shit out and never succeed. Ignorance, I decided, was bliss when it came to men. I’d learned to go with the flow and hope I didn’t get chewed up too much in the process.

Hawk kept talking. “Sayin’ shit like that to men like Tack is like a dare.”

“What?”

“He’s the president of an MC. He’s got money. He’s got balls. He’s got brains. He’s got charisma. He’s got power. Men like that, women are easy. Men like that don’t want women who are easy. They want women who are smartasses and they’re cute. A woman like that tells you they want nothin’ to do with men and are gonna set up a ferret rescue, men like Tack take that as a challenge and challenges are what they feed on. They live and breathe for challenge. You sayin’ what you said to Tack is the same as a man comin’ up to him and shovin’ him in a bar. He’s gonna react to that, strongly, and best the situation no matter what he has to do to do it.”

“That’s crazy,” I told him because it was.

“That’s Tack.”

I stared at him. Then it hit me.

“It’s also you.”

His hand squeezed my ass. “You’re learnin’.”

Then something else hit me.

“What happens when you best the situation?”

“What?”

“What happens when it isn’t a challenge anymore?”

His hand left my ass so his arm could curve around my waist and he pulled me closer, muttering, “Sweet Pea.”

I pulled my torso back as best I could and kept my eyes glued to him.

“Is that an answer?” I asked.

He kept his eyes locked to me and asked back, “You gonna give me you?”

It was my turn to say, “What?”

“Babe, yesterday, you said your fuckwad ex crushed you. And I know this to be true because, for days, I watched you approach every situation between us with one hand up as if you’re wardin’ off a threat. When I do something you like, your face gentles because I’ve surprised you, you haven’t had shit like that from a man. You just walked up to me and slid your arms around me sweet. I’ve made you come for me and I’ve been inside you. You’ve shared gratitude. But, Gwen, that hand’s still up, wardin’ me off. You haven’t given me you, not even close. There is no way I’ve bested this situation.”