Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (Hawke Family #1)(24)

I like her nervous, just the kind of nervous she was at our Angelo’s dinner, nervous because of the sexual tension between us.

Do something about it!

My wine glass clinks down on the table between the chaise lounges, and I extend my right hand out to her. “Come here.”

She looks at my hand, considering it for a moment before she slowly sets her glass down on the table and places her palm against mine. I gently tug her across the space between us until she falls lightly onto my lap, her bare legs dangling off the side of the chaise.

“Why are you so nervous?” I ask, brushing her hair back behind her shoulder and cupping her cheek to turn her face toward me.

Her eyes meet mine and I’m momentarily lost in the silvery blue of her irises and the glint of the setting sun off her flawless skin. “I’m not,” she whispers.

“Yes, you are,” I say, cupping her face between my hands, refusing to let her look away from me when I say this, “and I’m sorry you had to find out this way. It isn’t fair to ask you to take me, and all this, on. We said, and did, things when you didn’t have all the information. I wouldn’t blame you if you choose to walk away right now. But, before you do, I need to kiss you, because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about doing it since the second you walked into my office.”

Her eyes flash with heat and her tongue slips out over her bottom lip, wetting it, making it even more irresistible.

Pulling her to me, I pause when our lips are a mere hair's breadth apart. “Last chance to run,” I whisper. She doesn’t even flinch, and I strike, pressing my lips against hers in a scorching kiss. My cock hardens beneath her and she responds, groaning and sliding her tongue along my bottom lip, begging for entry. I oblige and our tongues tangle, thrusting against each other wildly. It is exactly everything I had known it would be.

When we finally come up for air, I know there is no way I can let her go after that kiss. “Danika, you have no reason to be nervous with me. I’m still the same person I’ve always been with you, and I know exactly what you want to know.”

Her lips part slightly, but she sucks back the words, glancing down at her hands pressed against my chest. “You do?”

I nod and slowly brush my thumb down her cheek before lifting her chin so she’s facing me again, her buttery-smooth skin like velvet under my fingertips and I long to know if the rest of her body feels the same. “You want to know if I am paralyzed, how can I possibly have sex, right?”

She freezes against me, going so stone still, her chest barely moving with her shallow breathing.

Bingo.



Shit. How the fuck did he know that? Am I really that transparent?

I sigh and drop my forehead against his chest, my face probably turning many brilliant shades of red to match the sunset behind me. He chuckles and captures my cheeks in his palms, pulling me up to face him again, a smirk on his lips.

“Yes, some paraplegics have issues with sexual function. I, thankfully, don’t have trouble getting hard.” Leaning forward, he kisses my cheek, then brushes his lips against my ear. “What? Do you think I somehow faked those pictures and videos?”

Yes.

“No,” I say, hoping my blush doesn’t give me away again.

Why do I have to be such a horrible liar?

He laughs again and pulls back, pressing his lips to mine gently. “Baby, you can feel the evidence of how I feel about you pressing against your beautiful ass right now—proof that those pictures were very much real.” He pushes his cock up against me, and a groan slips from my lips.

The constant buzz of electricity that has been sliding across my skin since I fell onto his lap arcs between us, and he captures my mouth again. Cradling my face in his left hand, he devours my lips and slowly skims his right hand from my knee up my thigh to the hem of my sundress.

Instinctively, I shift on his lap, grinding down against his rock-hard erection. He moans into my mouth as his tongue glides effortlessly along mine.

Fuck, he tastes like wine and sex. My two favorite things. I’m a total lush, and I desperately need to get fucked. By. This. Man.

His hand slips up under the hem of my dress, searing a line of fire along my sensitive skin. When the tips of his fingers brush against the silk fabric of my thong, a shudder rolls through my entire body and I push against him, urging him further.

Touch me!

It has the opposite effect. His hand stills momentarily, and I want to scream at him, but instead, a desperate whimper escapes my lips and he groans in reply, redoubling his assault on my mouth as he finally slides my panties to the side.

I turn into him, giving him a better angle and gasp when he drags his fingertips slowly through my drenched folds. My body vibrates with need—the need for him to shove into me with his fingers, his tongue, his cock, hell, anything at this point.

He slides his fingers up until he finds my throbbing clit and he coats it in my arousal, making me bow up off his lap. He doesn’t relent, instead slipping two fingers into my needy pussy as he continues to roll against my clit with his thumb. I close my eyes and drop my head back; he follows, his mouth and tongue moving in time with his fingers.

Holy shit. I’m not going to last.

Bright lights flash behind my eyelids as I roll my hips against his hand, keeping time with the demanding rhythm he has set. I clutch at his shirt, my fingers tugging on the crisp fabric, desperate for anything to keep me from flying apart.