Hawk (A Stepbrother Romance #3)(54)

"Just like before," I whisper. "Up and over, to your window. Push it up and get inside. One at time. You first."

Alexis nods, and shimmies up the corner molding, using the rails as handholds, until she gingerly slips out onto the beam that travels the length of the house, clinging to the moldings for dear life. I hold my breath as she works her way across, inch by inch, until she reaches the window.

She slips and I freeze, watching her gingerly find her footing again as she grasps her windowsill and grunts, trying to push her window up. It doesn't budge, and I start to climb up, pulling myself past the foothold. I start to slip along the side of the house, clinging to it.

Then the light in Alexis' room flips on, the window sash flies up, and a pair of hands grab her wrists and pull her inside.





Alexis





Now





My foot slips and I have to stop, pushing panic back down into my guts. Every time I shift my toes, I feel like I'm going to fall and crash down on the porch roof, and break my leg or my neck. Inch by inch I make my way closer to the window, sighing when I can finally grasp the windowsill.

I lean too much and my foot goes out from under me. Panic shocks up from my knees to my throat and I bit my lip to keep from crying out as I feel for footing and get my foot back in place. Then, more slowly, I slide in front of the window, make sure my feet are planted and my grip is good, and push on the window sash.

It doesn't move.

I push again, and it won't budge. This must be why Hawk always tapped on my window. I know it's not locked, we left it open a couple of inches so we could pry it back open again. I set myself and push, and still it won't move.

Then the light flicks on, blinding in my eyes, and I feel myself start to slip. The window flies open and hands grab my wrists, and pull.

My feet slip off the molding and I kick my legs in the air, desperate for purchase, and cage a burning scream in my lungs, trying not to make a sound.

May leans over my bed, holding my wrists. As I try to get my feet back on the side of the house, she leans backwards and pulls me in, dragging me across the bed. We both end up in a heap on the floor, and I roll off of her, wincing. May sits up and stares at me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I snap.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hisses back.

Then, Hawk comes through the window at full clip, almost hurling himself into the room. He drags across the bed, yanking the bedclothes loose with his damned boots, and lands on the floor in between us, his massively muscled chest moving with his heavy breathing. He looks over at May, then back at me, then at May again, rolls and leaps to his feet, and checks the bedroom door, finding it locked. He turns around, red-faced.

"You scared the shit out of me," he snaps.

"Sorry," May folds her arms over her chest. "Alex was going to fall."

"Keep your voices down," I snap, rising to my feet. I do my best to straighten the bed, then flop on it and groan, covering my eyes with my hands. It's almost midnight. I don't need this.

"My head hurts," I whisper.

"What happened?" May demands. "Where did you go?"

"It's better if you don't know," I answer in a whisper. "Go back to your room."

"It's not fair."

I sit up a little and look at her. "It's not fair? Really? What are you, twelve?"

"We'll talk another time," Hawk pats her shoulder. "Thank you for getting the window open. Go back to your room."

May looks at me, then at Hawk, and smirks to herself as she cracks the door open, then slips across the hallway. I hear her door close softly, and Hawk locks my door again. I sit up, yawn, then stand and push the bed covers back into position as best I can.

Hawk's hands fall on the outsides of my thighs. I stand straight up as his hands slip up and squeeze my ass. I grab his wrists and pull them away but he ignores my struggles, puts his hands on my hips, and pulls me against him. I relax as he breathes softly against my ear, then kisses my throat.

"Stop it, I'm all sweaty."

"I know. Come here."

I stifle a laugh as he turns me in his hands, and shoves my arm up, and pushes his face in my armpit and breathes in deep. It tickles, his breath on my side, even with the shirt. I have to choke down a laugh as I feebly struggle in his arms, not really trying to escape. He tugs at my shirt and then he must think better of it, because he puts his mouth on my side and I feel the wet heat of his tongue as it soaks through my shirt, and he starts working his way along the side of my breast, pushing me down onto the bed as he falls on top of me and pins me down, on my side.

His arms around my waist, he keeps me pinned down there and his mouth works along the side of my breast, and his fingers tickle my stomach. He sucks hard, pulling at my skin even through my shirt and the material of my bra.

"There's something in the way," he mumbles, and shoves my shirt up.

His hands are hot on my stomach and sides, tickle up the small of my back and tear a giggle out of my throat before I silence it with my hand. He pins me on my back and pushes my shirt up, and my arms with it, then traps them over my head, twisting the fabric in my hand. He reaches over and clicks the light off, and now I can't even see a dim outline through the shirt. Only my mouth sticks out from the collar of my shirt, and his lips press hot on mine, and he kisses me hard as he twists the fabric in his hand, trapping my arms.