This. This feeling is what I should feel for Luke, but don’t.

“Do you have any idea how hot you are?” He growls the words in my ear, the heat of his breath against my skin. “I can’t take my eyes off you. You want me just as bad and yet you don’t want him to know that you’re going home with me tonight do you?”

Every part of me lights up in relief at his statement but at the same time I can’t just up and leave my date. I may be a bitch for wanting Hawkin while I’m with Luke but I’m not that cold-hearted. “I can’t,” I tell him, voice strained with the desire I feel coursing through me, an obvious tell to him how I feel.

“Can’t and want are two different things,” he says, “and I’m not accepting a no.”

I shake my head to contradict him, the “No” about to pass over my lips as he spins me around, backing me up not so gently against the door, and before I can even meet Hawkin’s eyes, his mouth is on mine. I don’t have time to think, only react, and oh how I react.

We become a mass of hands groping, lips bruising, and tongues tasting in a savage union of frustrated lust. Nothing is static for more than a beat as we try to feel our way into each others’ lives. His hand squeezing my ass. My nails digging into his biceps. Teeth nipping lips followed by not so soothing licks because we are so desperate to claim and tempt and take.

All I can think of is more—all I want is more. I know minutes must pass but I swear it feels like fleeting seconds before he drags his lips from mine so that he can stare into my eyes, his labored breaths panting over my lips, swollen from his kiss. “You can tell me no all you want, Q. You can push me, pull my hair … bite me even … but you can’t deny that you want me as much as I want you.”

His words are an incendiary match to the emotions simmering within me. I want to act on them, but he’s just annihilated my wits with his mouth—words and kisses. I shake my head side to side as I try to process, not realizing that he thinks I’m disagreeing. Before I can speak he leans in closer and says, “Make me believe you don’t want me.”

In a heartbeat his mouth is back on mine with a volatile intensity that even if I wanted to resist, I wouldn’t be able to. My body tingles with need to the point where I feel like I can never get enough of him.

“Hawke?” Axe’s muted voice breaks through our libidinous haze.

Hawkin swears out a curse, his forehead against mine. He removes his hand from where it was wrapped in my hair and forces my chin up as we separate.

“In the head,” he yells out, irritated at being interrupted.

“You okay? Vince is asking. They need you back at the meet and greet.”

“Yeah man, just zipping up. Tell him to hold his fucking horses, I’ll be right out.”

Hawke drops his head forward, eyes squeezed shut, hand still holding my hair hostage as we stand here in this suspended state of time. It’s not long but just enough for reason to start seeping through the haze of what I’m doing.

And the women from earlier flash in my mind, but then Hawkin does something so unexpected and yet seemingly intimate that the images dissipate. He takes the tip of his nose and runs it from my collar bone up the column of my throat and to beneath my ear.

“You’re coming to the after party. I don’t care how, I don’t care why, but I need more of you than this. You want me and then you don’t want me and frankly I don’t give a flying fuck anymore what your reasons are, because I want you. And I guarantee that once I have you, there will be no more back-and-forth because I’ll leave your body so fucking high on me there will be no other option but to want more of me again.”

I draw in a ragged breath as I try to take in his words that are erotic and possessive and downright assuming all at once but holy hell am I a trembling ball of need. And yet I say nothing.

He gently pulls my hair so that when he leans back he’s looking straight into my eyes with unfettered intensity and unbridled desire expressed in his stormy irises. “It’s taking everything I have right now not to tell Axe to fuck off, to tell them to wait so I can lift up this sexy skirt of yours, pull aside the panties you wore for him to discover, and finger-fuck you breathless. Claim you first. Show you just a taste of what we could be like together.” He leans forward and tugs on my bottom lip gently with his teeth until they scrape along it and it falls free. “But I want to take my time with you Quinlan, edge you out so that by the time you come the only sound on your lips is my name, the only thought in your head is me, and the only thing you want filling you is this.” He presses his dick that’s hard and straining against the denim of his jeans into my hip.

My heart is pounding, and I gasp out when he roughly yanks down the neckline of my tank so that the lace of my bra is exposed. The possessive growl in the back of his throat is seductive and arousing and hotter than hell in so many ways. His eyes meet mine, then he lowers his head, fingers pulling the lace down farther before his mouth dips to the top part of my breast. I open my mouth again, the soft mewl of need falling from my lips as the warmth of his mouth glides over my skin.

His mouth sucks gently at first and then a little harder. I lean my head back against the door, my body zinging with so many different definitions of need that I can’t focus on any one part at once. I’m losing myself under the haze of desire when all of a sudden he releases me, all contact lost so that a gasp escapes from my lips at the sudden loss of his warmth.

The electricity remains though.

I stare at him, his jaw tight in physical restraint, biceps tense as his fists clench, and I see so many things that contradict one another I’m not sure what to think.

But thinking is overrated when desire can be in control.

“That’s so he knows that you’re mine,” he says, glancing down to my chest, intensity etched in his eyes. “And so you don’t forget it.” He takes another step back and turns to place his hand on the doorknob. “Wait a minute before you head back,” he says with his head down, “and don’t look so surprised. You knew this was coming.” He opens the door.

“Hawke.” His name tumbles brokenly from my mouth, a sound of desperation.

He looks at me, that devil-may-care smirk lighting up his face in triumph. “That just proved me right,” he says with a shake of his head, and then leaves me behind with my mouth lax, cheeks flushed, and the knowledge that I just showed him I want him as much as he wants me.

I startle when the door shuts and the sound echoes around the tiled bathroom. But nothing rivals the pounding of my heart in my ears—or the juncture of my thighs—because the man just lit my fuse with his words and walked out without helping it catch flame.

I brace my hands on the counter next to me, needing a minute to catch my breath and collect myself. My mind whirls while my body still burns from his touch. I lift my head up and catch sight of myself in the mirror and can’t tear my eyes away from what I see.

My tank is still pulled down below my boob, a dark red mark at the edge of my bra’s lace from his mouth, but it’s the look on my face that holds my attention. My cheeks are flush, my lips are swollen, and my eyes are more alive than I’ve ever seen them. I stare at my reflection for a moment, feeling like I’m looking at a stranger. Hawkin is the reason I look like this. The attraction between us is irresistible and combustible.

I force myself to look away, to straighten myself up—my shirt, my smeared lipstick, my disheveled hair—before taking a deep breath to steady the parts of me that feel alive for the first time in way too long.

And as I make my way back to Luke, I know. I know that I won’t be able to resist Hawkin’s pull on me any longer, that it’s stupid to deny myself. To not take the chance to see where this may lead us because when all is said and done, we regret only the chances we didn’t take, not the ones we did and failed at.

Make it count. My motto runs through my head and makes me question my morality between what is right and what I want.

I reenter the meet and greet with that resolve in the forefront of my mind and smile softly at Luke, suddenly cognizant of the length of time I’ve been gone.

“You okay?” Concern blankets Luke’s face as guilt lances through me. Can he tell that I’ve been kissed senseless? I don’t think so but I swear to God I feel like my hidden hickey is as visible as a scarlet letter.

“Yeah. Sorry. Got lost,” I ramble and force myself to stop so that my lie isn’t over-the-top obvious. I keep my eyes focused on him although I swear I can feel the weight of Hawkin’s stare as Luke puts his arm around my waist and pulls me into him. My immediate reaction is to wriggle from his touch but I know I can’t do it.

“It’s okay. Perfect timing,” he says. “We’re next.”

If he only knew.

I make a noncommittal sound and give him a forced smile. I feel his body vibrate with excitement even before I hear the voice over my shoulder.

“Hey, man, how are you doing tonight? Thanks for coming out!”

“Great show, Hawkin. You guys were incredible. That new song was killer.” Luke falls all over himself as he tries to connect with Hawkin, and I wonder if I’m the only one who notices the tightness in his smile and arrogant lift of his eyebrows as he assesses Luke.

“Thanks. And you are?” Hawkin asks, reaching his left hand out to Luke. And it hits me. Hawkin’s trying to get his arm off my waist.

“Sorry.” Luke releases me to shake Hawke’s hand eagerly. I watch that smirk return to Hawke’s face as he gets the reaction he wanted from him. “Luke Mason, and this here is—”

“Luke Mason?” Hawke says, head tilting, eyes narrowing as Luke nods his head. “As in Indy Luke Mason?”

What the …? He told me he didn’t follow racing and yet he knows Luke’s name?

In my periphery I can see Luke’s smile widen to epic proportions at the notion that Hawkin knows who he is but I’m watching Hawke and not sure I like the predatory look he has in his eyes. “Yeah man, you follow racing?” The hope in Luke’s voice is endearing.

“Not much,” Hawke says with a shake of his head, “but I was just recently checking it out. Met someone that loves it … so Google was my friend.”

The admission surprises me. So while I’ve been cyberstalking him, he’s been finding out more about what, my brother or my family? At least I know that he’s curious enough to look.

“Well, if you ever want to check out a race …”

“Thanks.” Hawke’s eyes shift ever so subtly to mine. “And you are?”

“Qui—”

“Oh! I’m so rude. Sorry. This is Quinlan Westin.” Luke shakes his head and places his hand on my back again, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

Hawke reaches out to shake my hand, eyes lingering and hands held a beat longer than needed. “Hi, Quinlan,” he says, rolling my name over his tongue. “Unique name. So you’re into racers over rockers huh?” He raises his eyebrows in challenge causing me to shift uncomfortably but ready to play the game.

“It takes quite a lot to impress me.” It’s the only answer I can think of and I mean it as a warning, to back off in front of Luke, but all I get in response is that arrogant raise of an eyebrow.

He flashes me that lightning-quick grin. “I assure you rockers know how to leave their mark with more than just their music.” He lifts his eyes to mine, reinforcing the innuendo in case I didn’t catch it. A moment of awkward silence passes between the three of us.

“Hey, Luke,” Hawke says, shifting gears and patting him on the shoulder as I try to figure out what kind of game he’s playing now. “We’re about to go to an after party at a club—the bands and a few others—do you guys want to come along?”

The devil inside me sags in respite knowing I’ve just been given the door to walk through to claim the pleasurable promise Hawkin threatened in the bathroom, while the angel cringes knowing if Luke accepts, he’s walking us into a lion’s den of disappointment that I don’t want to be the culprit of.

And yet I don’t think there’s any way to prevent either thing from happening.

“No way! Really?” Luke’s fingers tighten on my hip, and my eyes immediately flash to see if Hawkin notices. He doesn’t. He’s too busy whipping out his testosterone-laced gauntlet to throw down at Luke’s feet.

“Yep,” he says. “Axe, my security, will get you all the info. I’ve got to finish up here.” He lifts his chin, indicating the next set of people in line to greet him. “We’ll see you there though.”