Mystery Man (Dream Man #1)(118)

His hand slid up the satin to cup my breast as his face got closer.

“Does that fix what I cut up inside you?” he whispered. “Or do you wanna give me a new list?”

It didn’t but only because he’d already fixed it when he forgave me.

One of my hands slid up, over his hair, cupping the back of his head to pull him down as I lifted and turned my head so my lips were at his ear.

“Yes, baby, you fixed it but prepare to be freaked,” I whispered back and he started to turn his head but I quickly kept talking before I lost my courage. “I’m falling in love with you, Cabe.”

He stopped turning his head as his body froze and I held my breath.

Maybe that was too much too soon. We’d made up, we’d gone back to us, maybe I was pushing it.

And maybe I shouldn’t have called him Cabe. I didn’t do it purposefully, it just came out. And maybe this was because a man named Cabe would be as sweet as the man in my arms.

Then again, I’d learned a man named Hawk could be just as sweet.

Then suddenly he rolled to his back with me on top of him and just as suddenly Cam’s nightgown was pulled up and off and tossed aside and then I was on my back and his mouth was on mine.

Totally a take it off because it was in the way man. Cam’s nightgown was hot.

I had a nanosecond to realize he really didn’t mind me calling him Cabe, nor did he think my declaration was too soon if what he was doing to me with his mouth and the path of his hands were anything to go by. Then I lost the capacity to think.

After he kissed me, his mouth went to my neck, his hand, which was cupping my breast, became fingers rolling my nipple and I gasped.

Then I planted my foot in the bed and tried to roll him to his back, an effort that failed.

“I want you on your back,” I said in his ear.

“Not done,” he muttered against my neck then his tongue glided across my throat.

I shivered.

“Hawk, I only got one lick in last night. That isn’t fair.”

At my words his fingers at my nipple squeezed and I gasped again as my h*ps bucked and his head came up.

Then he rolled to his back, me on top again, but both his hands went to the sides of my head and he held it over his.

“Your mouth can have me, babe, but you aren’t bringin’ it home. I’m comin’ inside you, get me?”

“’Kay,” I agreed instantly, I got more dimples before he brought my mouth down to his and kissed me again, hard and long and beautiful. I let him then his mouth released mine and I used it on him, all over him, taking my time and enjoying it until I got to the prize.

There I took more time and enjoyed that too, though it was safe to say, not as much as Hawk.

But, as agreed, I didn’t bring it home. As usual, Hawk did and he did it connected to me.

And, as usual, it was unbelievably good.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Air Hockey

I woke alone in Hawk’s bed.

The sun was shining bright through all the windows and I tipped my head back to look at Hawk’s alarm clock. It was nearly eleven. I hadn’t slept that late since I was a teenager.

I heard kitchen noises and smiled. Then I lifted up, reached to the foot of the bed, grabbed Hawk’s flannel and shrugged it on while in bed. I threw my legs over the side, nabbed my panties from the floor and shimmied them on.

Then I wandered to the iron railing and looked down to see Hawk wearing a tight white tee and black track pants with a wide white stripe up the side. He was in the kitchen but his eyes were on me.

“Hey,” I called and I saw, even at the distance, his small smile.

“Mornin’, babe.”

I grinned at him then walked to the bathroom. I had to open the second extra toothbrush but I didn’t expect Hawk would mind. I went to town on my teeth, flossed, splashed warm water on my face, wiped it dry and then walked out of the bathroom where I spied his cargoes on the floor.

The idea hit me and before I could chicken out, I went to his cargoes, pulled out his wallet and then pulled out the photo. I returned the wallet, dropped the cargoes and unfolded the photo.

Sophie really was adorable. An unbelievably beautiful child. And Simone was stunning. Looking at her it was clear Hawk didn’t have a type because she looked nothing like me. She had a hint of exotic ethnicity to her and I was as WASP as they came.

I folded the photo back into quarters and palmed it then walked down the stairs.

Hawk was at the stove but he turned to me when I hit the seating area and I kept on going until I collided with his big, hard body, put my arms around his waist and my cheek to his chest.

His arm curved around my shoulders.

“Sleep well, baby?” he asked into my hair.

“Yeah, baby, you?” I asked back.

“Yeah,” he answered.

I gave him a squeeze and he returned it. Then I focused on the skillet on the stove. In it was an egg whites only omelet that had yet to be folded over but had mushrooms and various green bits on one side.

Tack appreciated food and consumed it in a way that I suspected he lived his life. Not safe and controlled, but with pleasure and abandon. Tack had a mountain hideaway with a fabulous view. Tack was a great kisser. Tack didn’t pin me to the bed in a way that demanded closeness and promised safety but he expected closeness all the same, just not the same way.