Hawke (Carolina Cold Fury Hockey #5)(55)

With her fingers in the edge of the towel.

And a sexy look on her face.

And Hawke making no move to dislodge said fingers or wipe said look off her face.

Tall, lithe, silky auburn hair, and creamy smooth skin. She’s gorgeous and she’s staring at Hawke and he’s staring at her, and I just hate her. And I’m not feeling too kindly toward him either.

We all have bodily reactions that come at embarrassing times. We don’t want these things to happen, but our bodies betray us. It could be the often amusing but sometimes awkward situation of a gurgling belch after drinking something fizzy to the completely dreaded sound of flatulence from an upset tummy. Hawke and I’ve seen pretty much everything there is with each other, but I guarantee you he has never heard the sound that involuntarily rises out of me.

Like a screaming eagle. Or maybe a banshee. Definitely something full of outrage and hurt, I make a screeching sound that I had no idea existed. Hawke turns to me with a shocked look on his face. The woman’s hand drops away from his waist and her jaw hangs wide open to see me standing there.

“Move forward my ass,” I screech again, and it’s so loud and abrasive my own teeth hurt from it. I spin away and head for the stairs, intent on dressing and getting the hell out of here.

But Hawke’s words stop me dead cold. “Don’t move another step, Vale, or so help me God, I will chase you down.”

Indecision rules, and even though I cast a glance back over my shoulder, I take a half a step toward the staircase. Hawke’s eyes narrow at me and he warns, “Go ahead, Vale. Make a break for it, but I will catch you, and you’ll end up right back down here, so you might as well just stay put.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve—” I start to hiss at him, but he catches me off guard.

Scratching his hand through his hair and shooting me a sheepish look, he says, “Vale. This is Michelle. We sort of see each other casually when our schedules allow.”

He’s introducing me to her?

He’s f*cking introducing me to his piece of tail he keeps on the side?

“And what?” I ask with a sneer, my eyes never leaving his. “You thought you’d have both of us tonight?”

Hawke ignores me and turns to Michelle. He gives her an apologetic look, which causes my rage to go nuclear. “Michelle. This is Vale.”

He says this while pointing toward me, almost as an afterthought.

“Hi,” Michelle says with a conciliatory smile, giving me an awkward wave from the other side of Hawke. I want to gouge her eyes out, but she’ll have to stand in line; I’d like to get a crack at Hawke’s first.

Then Michelle spins toward Hawke, her eyes going wide. “Wait a minute…did you say Vale? As in the Vale?”

Her voice is awestruck, as if she’s witnessing a miracle. Hawke nods with a slight smile.

She knows about me?

I mean…how?

No way Hawke would ever tell another woman about what we had, and more important, how I destroyed it. His ego would never let him share that.

“Well, this was terrible timing,” Michelle says with a short laugh, and Hawke actually chuckles.

I’m back to wanting to gouge their eyes out.

“What are you doing here?” Hawke asks with his head tilted.

“Just thought I’d surprise you. You said last week you were up for some company and I got a few days off.”

“Come on in,” Hawke says as he pulls the door open even farther and motions for Michelle to cross his threshold.

This is the last straw for me. No way in hell is he going to have me, tell me he wants to move forward, and have a piece on the side to fill in the gaps. And I’m most certainly not going to stand here and watch this happen.

As I spin for the stairs, I immediately start believing in my heart that Hawke is doing this to punish me. While he says things are forgiven and that we only have the future ahead, that can’t be true based on the way he just invited her in. How she felt comfortable enough to come here and surprise him.

I make it halfway up the stairs when I hear Hawke say something like, “Just have a seat. I’ll be back down.”

I hasten my pace, bounding up the stairs quicker, hearing Hawke come after me. I jet down the hallway, make it through his bedroom door, and turn to slam it in his face, hopefully with engagement of the lock to keep him out.

Except the minute I start shutting the door, he’s there with his shoulder pushing it in on me. I give up on the thought of keeping him out while I gather my clothes and my dignity, and immediately turn toward the bathroom to get my underwear, bra, and T-shirt that were discarded there.

Said intention is completely foiled with his arm around my waist, one large stride to the bed, and a toss of my body onto it unceremoniously. The towel comes loose and I squawk again in outrage as I grab the ends and try to pull them over me for some modesty.

Hawke doesn’t care. He’s not looking at my body or my feeble attempts to get the towel wrapped back around me, instead advancing my way. In just moments, his big body is over mine, straddling me where he sits his full weight down on my pelvis, effectively pinning me to the mattress. Both his powerful thighs rest alongside my ribs and the towel around his waist opens up over his left thigh, threatening to reveal more to me.

Ordinarily, this would be a mouthwatering temptation. Now I want to nut punch him, so he’d be wise to keep the towel as is.