Hawk (A Stepbrother Romance #3)(6)

What, you're still a virgin? You waited for him, you dumb girl?

I don't even know if it counts anymore. His fingers drive me insane and his mouth on my clit is too much to take. I squeal through my teeth and my legs shake as a climax uncoils through my body, floods in a white-hot wave until it soaks through my skin, like there's a fire inside me and I'm glowing from within. It gets more and more intense, ebbs and grows again as I groan and my legs buckle. Finally Hawk stands up and slips his fingers out of me and kisses me hard again, and I can taste myself in his mouth, feel the heat on my chin.

There's nothing between me and him but his jeans. My hands slide up his legs and he shudders when I touch his balls, and gaps when I run my hand up the underside of his shaft, hard under his clothes.

"We can't do this," I whisper.

"Why not?"

I wriggle out from under him, stumble, and yank my pants up, frantically buckling them.

Hawk moves closer and I think he's going to grab me but instead he helps me tuck my shirt back in and smooths the sides, turns me around and pulls me against him.

"Come with me, right now."

"What? Where?"

"Anywhere but here."

"I can't. I can't leave my sister."

"We'll take her. Go get her."

"I can't, Hawk."

"Why?"

I push back and slip out of his arms. "Your father."

His eyes flash and rage twists his face. A quiver of fear bolts through me. He's scary. Then he softens.

"What about my father?" he says, his voice low like a suppressed growl.

"It's complicated. I can't… I can't leave."

"Because you're working for him?"

"Because no matter where I go, I can't get away from him. I shouldn't even be here talking to you. You don't know what you've done. He'll know you came up to me at the hot dog cart. He knows everything. If I try to run, he'll use May against me. She's a minor. He'll have the police hunt us down and drag us back here and put me back in…"

I trail off.

No, no I can't tell him that. I can't. I can't. I can't.

"Put you back in where?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Alex-"

"No, Hawk. I needed you and you weren't there. We had a chance and the chance passed. This was all you're going to get."

"I'm not going to abandon you again."

"Again," I say, bitterly. "Don't follow me."

"What happens if I do?"

I've already started to leave, but I round on him.

"What do you think you can do, Hawk? Fight the whole town? Your dad’s going to be the mayor of this shithole. The cops already do everything he says. He owns half the town. I don't care how big you are, you can't do anything about him. If you pull some bullshit, you have no idea what’ll happen."

"Yes, I do. I left because he threatened you."

I freeze. "What?"

"He-"

"He threatened me and your answer was to leave me here?"

"I thought you'd be gone, the scholarship-"

"He married my mother a month after you left. I lasted until fall break and then they…" I trail off, unable to finish.

No, no, no, no, never talk about that never ever.

"They what?"

"It doesn't matter," I spit at him. "I don't need you anymore. When I needed you, you weren't there."

"Alex, let me explain. You don't know what happened-"

"I don't care what happened, Hawk. It was nice when we were younger. I wish it was more than it was, but it's not. It's over and it needs to be over. Go back where you came from before you make my life worse."

I turn and storm out of the alley, blinking away tears in the hot sun. Every atom of my body is screaming at me to turn around and rush back to him and just run and run until we both drop, until there's half a planet between us and this hell. He came back, he came back.

The other part of me clings to the truth: It's too late, and I have work to do.

There's only one person who's going to stop Tom Richardson.

Me.





Hawk





Now





So here I am standing in the alley between an empty pharmacy and an empty furniture store, shirtless, smelling vaguely of mustard, Alexis' juices on my fingers. I'm not completely sure what just happened. One moment she was clenched up around me, her body pulsing with pleasure as she clamped down my fingers, the words f*ck me wordlessly on her lips, and then she shoves me away and storms off, and tells me to go back where I came from.

Let me think.

No.

I scrub my hands clean in my fouled t-shirt and toss it into an old trash can someone abandoned in the alley and stride back out into the open. I get more stares now; the tats are on full display. The screaming hawk on my chest, chains and vines on my arms, and the biggest one on my back, a lovely angel wielding a reaper's scythe. She spreads her wings across my back and stares defiantly and, to be honest, looks a lot like Alex. I'm not the only person walking around shirtless, it's f*cking hot, but every eye in the place is on me anyway.