Kristen Ashley - Mystery Man

I gulped but Tracy put her drink aside so she could sit on her hands in order not to clap them in glee.

I looked at Hawk. “Would you like a proper meal?”

“Will you display symptoms of post-traumatic stress after you’re forced to steam vegetables and spoon out cottage cheese?” he asked back.

I felt my eyebrows go up. “Is that what you want for dinner?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Then yeah, probably. Will my cost center include visits to the psychologist?”

He grinned just as his arm curved fast and tight, pulling me into him. My cosmo arm shot out to avoid collision as my chest hit his chest, his hand slid up into my hair to cup my head, he tilted it and my mouth hit his.

The kiss was short but any kiss from Hawk was sweet.

Though some were sweeter.

When he let me back an inch, he said, “Babe,” through a smile.

“I thought you told me you were going to kiss me if I made you laugh.”

“I did.”

“I didn’t make you laugh,” I pointed out.

“No, but I’m gonna kiss you when you make me wanna laugh too.”

“So, I don’t even get any verbal warning?”

His hand slid down to my neck. “Those are the breaks, Sweet Pea.”

“Sweet Pea,” Tracy breathed and suddenly I remembered I had an audience.

I pulled away and sat back, scanning the posse. Tracy was smiling flat out, in twilight, la-la land of happiness, firm in the knowledge she’d always been right. Elvira was grinning into her martini glass but still likely lamenting the fact that the commandos wouldn’t be receptive to the hot gossip she had to share. Cam was swirling the dregs of her cosmo in the bottom of her glass, eyes openly assessing on Hawk, not wanting to let go of a year and a half of thinking Hawk was a motherfucking asshole but, I could tell, she was getting swayed.

“I need to steam vegetables,” I declared. “Does anyone want steamed vegetables?”

“Not for me,” Tracy answered.

“I gotta be gettin’ home,” Elvira said, sucking back the last of her cosmo.

“Me too, early shift,” Cam put in.

Hawk reached out and confiscated my glass again when Tracy added, “If Cam’s going, I’m going. She’s my ride.”

Hawk took a sip then aimed his eyes at Tracy. “You wanna hang with Gwen, I’ll take you home.”

“You will?” Tracy asked, eyes big, an offer of a ride home further endorsement that she was right never to give up hope.

“Sure,” Hawk answered.

Her eyes darted back and forth between Hawk and me before she said, “I’d like to stay.”

“Then stay,” Hawk returned, handed me my drink and leaned forward again to nab the last of the apple slices.

The girl posse mobilized. Tracy and I said good-bye to Cam and Elvira at the door, me assuring them I had clean up covered. When they called their adieus, Hawk’s farewell was a jerk of the chin from his position standing in the opened fridge. After they left, Tracy and I went to the kitchen, Hawk went to his desk, flipped up his laptop and I saw the screen illuminate his face before he turned on the desk lamp. Tracy tidied while I steamed veggies and spooned out cottage cheese. Hawk approached when I was dumping veggies on the plate and Tracy was shaking another batch of cosmos. We retired to the seating area, Tracy back to her recliner, Hawk in his corner, me pressed to his side while he ate.

With Tracy, Hawk wasn’t like he was with me during our date. He conversed. He was at ease, sometimes funny, not exactly open but not deliberately closed and, if it could believed, often charming.

Hmm.

By the time Hawk excused himself to put his plate in the dishwasher and go back to his laptop, Tracy was practically shimmering with joy and this only had a little to do with the fact she’d drunk three cosmos.

She and I chatted and giggled (mostly giggled) and finally Hawk took her home. When they were gone, I finished up tidying, got ready for bed, climbed in and was about to nod off when I heard the garage door open. It wasn’t long after when the lights went out one by one through Hawk’s lair, I heard him moving around the bed platform, I felt his warm hand on the small of my back then his weight hit the bed.

I rolled into him before he could curl into my back.

His arm wrapped around me. “So, what’s the verdict?” he asked into the dark, totally knowing why the girls were there that night.

“Apparently, I’m Queen Crash and Burn,” I answered.

“Come again?”

“Leo calls me Queen Crash and Burn. I flirt then I leave them hanging.”

“Babe,” was his reply.

“It didn’t occur to me but I guess I do this.”

“My boys call you Mistress Blueballs.”

My body got tight and his hand slid into my nightshirt, pushing it up.

“They do?” I asked.

“Yep,” he answered, the nightshirt still going up.

“Elvira said they don’t gossip.”

The nightshirt went way up, my arms were forced to go up with it then it was gone.

Totally a take it off because it gets in the way man.

His hand slid down my back and right into my panties to cup my ass.

Mm. Nice.

“They don’t talk around Elvira,” he went on. “They learned. She’s pathologically friendly, in your business and adopts every woman who drifts in and out of their lives. Hard to scrape someone off when you’re workin’ with their new best friend.”

Hmm. This said a lot, since she’d done this with me and Hawk apparently didn’t give a shit.

I decided maybe for now I should let that one go.

“Mistress Blueballs?” I prompted.

“You know I’ve watched you. They saw it happen. You give all the right signals, the promise of you so hot they’d sell an organ to get in there then you close down.”

Hmm.

His hand at my ass pulled me deeper into his body as his knee forced its way between my legs so I had no choice but to hitch my leg around his hip and his head came up before his face disappeared in my neck.

“What else was decided tonight?” he whispered against my skin, I shivered and my arms slid around him, the one at the bottom forcing its way under his weight so I could get to the sleek skin and muscled contours of his back.

“They gave me food for thought,” I replied also in a whisper and felt his smile against my neck.

“Right,” he returned quietly then I felt his tongue.

Mm.

My hands started moving on his back as I pressed my hips into his and his thigh moved higher.

Mm.

“Troy says you’re gonna walk all over me,” I announced for reasons unknown even to me and I said it. “In combat boots,” I finished.

His head went back to the pillows. “You talked with Troy?”

I nodded against the pillows, wishing I hadn’t said anything because saying something lost me his mouth. “After Ginger.”

“Babe, he doesn’t know me enough to say shit like that.”

“He said the same thing. You didn’t know him enough to say what you said to him.”

“I see he didn’t take that opportunity to man up,” Hawk muttered.

“It was harsh, Hawk,” I whispered.

“It was real, Gwen,” he returned. “I pissed around with you for a year and a half without makin’ any real moves and any time in that time you could have moved on. How long’s he been doin’ it and what’s the chance that, he doesn’t wake the fuck up, he’ll do it again with another woman?”

Well, he had a point there.

“He told me he’s in love with me,” I shared again on a whisper.

Hawk’s body went still then his hand slid from my ass, up my ribs to cup my breast.

Then he did a nipple swipe.

Yowza.

“Then he’ll appreciate it when you tell him, no matter what happens, I promised you I’d handle you with care,” he whispered back

Um… yowza!

“Hawk,” I breathed but he lifted my breast, bent his head and pulled my nipple into his mouth.

Yowzayowzayowza!

I moaned.

His mouth released my breast, it came to mine as his thumb circled my hard nipple and he ordered, “Touch yourself, baby, while I work your tits.”

“’Kay,” I agreed on a breath and did as ordered.

The instant my finger touched the golden spot, his head slanted, his mouth took mine in a kiss, his finger met his thumb for a nipple roll and that’s when I forgot about Troy, cosmos with the girl posse and living in my head. I dropped my imaginary hand, stopped fending Hawk off and lived in the now.

Hawk flipped me to my back.

“Baby,” I gasped. “I wasn’t done.”

He ground his cock into me. “You got a time limit up there, Sweet Pea,” he grunted. “You can’t bring it home, I take over.”

This was true. Hawk allowed the top for awhile. Then, if I couldn’t “bring it home”, he stopped allowing it.

Like now. Now, he pulled up my leg, kept it high with his bicep behind my knee, arm wrapped around, hand warm on my inner thigh and lifted up with his other hand in the bed, arm straight.

Then I watched his head drop so he could study our connection, his eyes heated, his face hungry. He liked what he was seeing. Just watching him, I felt a strong, pre-orgasm vibration.

Then he did that thing he does with his hips, I whimpered because I really, really liked that thing he does with his hips then he started driving into me again.

“Hawk,” I breathed, my hand trailing down, my fingers separating around his pounding cock, feeling our connection, the power of him riding me. Beautiful. Wet. Hard. Hot.

His eyes came to mine and he did that thing with his hips again, my neck arched and I came.

Not long after, Hawk did the same.

He released my leg and his heat and weight came to me. I took it gladly, welcoming it by wrapping all four limbs around him.

His face was in my neck and I glided my nose down his shoulder.

God, he smelled good.

His mouth came to my ear. “Got shit to do, babe,” he murmured.

It was morning. The morning after the girl posse meeting of the minds. The morning after he promised to handle me with care.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Even though he had things to do, again this was no first thing in the morning nookie, slam bam, thank you ma’am. His mouth came to mine and he kissed me lightly and again then again before he nipped my bottom lip.

Shit but I liked when he did that.

So much that when he started to roll off me, I rolled with him so I was on top, straddling him, my forearms in the bed, my breasts brushing his chest, my hair framing both our faces.

One of his hands spanned my hip, the other one gathered one side of my hair, holding it at my neck.

“Gwen,” he said softly.

God, I really loved my name.

I lifted a hand and put it to his face, my thumb moving over his brow, his cheekbone, to where his dimple would be if he was smiling then across his lips and he let me do this, his eyes locked to mine.

“Do you promise to handle me with care?” I whispered, my heart racing.

His hand at my hip curved around my waist pulling me down to him and his hand at my neck did the same so our faces were a breath away.

“Promise,” he whispered back.

“Swear?” I pushed.

“Swear, baby.”

“You had a hand up too, Hawk,” I told him.

“Dropped it awhile ago, Gwen.”

Shit. He had. He totally had.

I nodded then bent my head the quarter inch I needed to touch my lips to his. His arms got tight, he rolled me to my back and my lip touch became a long, hard, wet, delicious kiss.

His head came up and he asked, “You just give me you?”

“I’m gonna try,” I answered.

“All I can ask, Sweet Pea,” he muttered did the triple touch with his lips again, denied me the nip then stated, “We’re goin’ out tonight.”

Oh yeah. I liked that.

“Okay.”

“Dress sweet for me, baby,” he ordered.

“Okay,” I repeated.

He smiled down at me, his dimples popping out then I got the belated nip on my lower lip.

Nice.

* * *

“Babe,” Hawk answered his phone.

It was early afternoon and without the freezer full of frozen Twix bars calling my name, firebombs, drive-bys and commandos installing security systems, I’d had two days of uninterrupted, flat out work. I was getting ahead of the game. I had another author send me her files but the deadline was far away, so work was steady, I was golden and my invoices that month were going to be awesome.