“Thatta girl,” he praised, making me huff in annoyance. Condescension wasn’t attractive… but whatever he was doing with his hand more than made up for it.
I reached back and wrapped my arm around his head as he started to suck on my neck, and my hips moved against his hand in a rhythm that had me panting when he added a second finger. We were cocooned inside the sleeping bag, and I almost forgot we were in a somewhat public place until the walls of the tent started shaking like we were in the middle of a hurricane.
“Get your ass up little brother!” Will called, shaking the tent some more. “Stop beatin’ off, we got shit to do today!”
“Get the fuck outta here!” Tommy yelled, breathing heavily as his hand stopped moving.
“Nope.” More tent shaking. “Up! Up! Up!”
“Douchebag,” Tommy grumbled as Will walked away from the tent. Then he let out a loud sound of frustration against my neck.
“You better go,” I whispered, suddenly embarrassed as hell that his fingers were still inside me.
“Fuck him,” he whispered back, sliding his fingers halfway out then pressing them quickly back in. “At least one of us is gettin’ off.”
“Not happening—” I started to say, then let out a deep breath as the hand that had been resting near my face twisted and reached down, pinching my nipple through my shirt without fanfare.
“You’ll come, but it’s gotta be fast,” he said so softly that I barely heard him. “Okay?”
I nodded and closed my eyes, biting my lips to keep any noise from escaping. He knew exactly what he was doing. Exactly how much pressure to exert. He pressed his hips against my ass in time with every thrust of his fingers and frantically pulled at my shirt until it was bunched above one breast.
“At some point, this is gonna be in my mouth,” he said as he ran his hand over my bare breast. He lifted his fingers toward my mouth. “Get ’em wet.”
My heart was beating frantically in my chest as more noise came from outside the tent, but I followed his orders, sucking his fingers into my mouth.
“Ah, shit,” he groaned, biting down on my earlobe. He pulled his fingers from my mouth and brought them back to my nipple, and the new sensation made my entire body tighten.
“You gotta come,” Tommy whispered, his thumb finding my clit as his fingers continued to thrust. “You gotta come right now, Heather.”
His thumb pressed down harder and harder as it shifted from side to side and suddenly I was there, coming all over his hand as every muscle in my body locked up tight.
His hands kept moving gently until I relaxed against him, then he slowly pulled his fingers out of my shorts.
“Oh, hell,” I muttered as I slid my hand down the back of his head and then dropped it down in front of me. “What was that?”
“That was one hell of an orgasm,” he murmured back, lifting his head away from me. I felt cold air waft over the spot where he’d been and I shivered. “Damn, you taste good.”
I whipped my head around to find him pulling his fingers out of his mouth.
“You need to go out there,” I hissed. I was still riding the high from my orgasm, but I knew that if he didn’t get out of bed someone was going to come looking for him again, and I really didn’t want them to open up the tent and find us canoodling.
“Can’t,” he replied easily. “I’d poke someone’s eye out.” He shifted his hips and the erection I’d been grinding against slid between my ass cheeks, a few layers of fabric the only thing separating us.
“Fine,” I retorted, throwing the sleeping bag off me. “I’ll get up.”
I automatically regretted the movement when the cool air hit me, but I didn’t let it stop me from crawling toward the tent’s opening and unzipping it. Tommy laughed lazily as I yelped at the frigid air I’d let into the tent, but he didn’t move as I got to my feet outside.
“Ugh,” I said in disgust as I looked around at the dirty clothes covering the ground outside the tent. “You’re seriously disgusting,” I called, making him laugh again.
I picked up the pants and underwear and socks and t-shirts, working my way around the front of the tent with a scowl on my face. All of it needed to be washed. Hell, some of it was almost stiff with grime.
When I’d picked every piece up and finally held it securely in my arms, I looked up and froze.
Callie was standing there with a surprised look on her face, and her husband was glaring at me from right behind her.
Shit.
Chapter 4
Thomas
I was so hard it was painful. I’d been hoping that once Heather left the tent my dick would start to behave himself, but that wasn’t happening. The blankets still smelled like her. I still smelled like her.
I kicked the sleeping bag down to my feet and groaned. If anything, staying in the tent might’ve been making it worse.
“Hi, Heather,” my mom greeted outside the tent.
Well, that deflated things pretty damn quickly.
I sat up and reached for my pants as Heather said an embarrassed hello, but I didn’t hurry. It was kind of funny listening to her try to act like she hadn’t just climbed out of my bed. She mumbled something about the weather and I had to swallow back a laugh.
I’d always known she was hot. Even when half of her head was shaved and the rest of it was waxed into a blue mohawk, she’d still been shit hot. The way she moved, the way she looked at me, her attitude, her ass, all of it was damn near made to make my dick hard. But I hadn’t really realized how cute she was until I heard her stumbling over her words.
“You makin’ a comparison?” a low voice asked.
My dad.
That motherfucker.
I didn’t bother with a shirt as I stepped quickly through the tent opening.
“What?” Heather asked in confusion. She took a step back, though. She knew whatever he was saying was fucked.
“First one Hawthorne, then the other,” my dad replied. “Will’s got an old lady, not gonna get in there.”
“Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” I growled, stepping in front of Heather. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“Asa,” my mom said in disgust, elbowing him in the stomach. “You’re being an asshole.”
“Wait,” Heather drawled from behind me before taking a step to the side so she could see my dad. “You think I banged Micky?”
I glanced at my mom to find her smiling slightly at Heather’s use of my brother’s family nickname.
Heather laughed, and my dad stood up straight. Christ.
“He was fourteen,” she said incredulously. “I was sixteen.”
“And?” my dad asked snidely.
“Asa,” my mom said again, turning her head to look up at him.
“And?” Heather took a step forward and I moved with her. The girl didn’t have a single ounce of self-preservation. “I didn’t fuck your son,” she said flatly. She glanced at me briefly. “Either of them.”
She turned on her heel and tried to storm off, but what looked like a tangled pair of my boxers fell from the pile in her arms and she had to bend over to get it, totally ruining her exit.
“I like her,” my mom said, laughing quietly.
“You got no loyalty for your brother?” my dad asked me, completely ignoring my mom.
“The fuck are you even talkin’ about?” I snapped back. “Her and Mick were friends.”
I wanted to point out that my baby brother was fucking dead. He didn’t care about any of it anymore, but out of respect for my mom I slammed my mouth shut. That would just hurt her. It would hurt her even more if my dad took a swing at me, and I knew he would.
“Your brother spent every fuckin’ minute that he wasn’t with you with her,” he growled back. “Don’t try and bullshit me.”
“I’m not doin’ shit,” I said, running my hand over the back of my head, where Heather had dug her nails into my scalp.
My dad stomped off and it took everything in me not to kick the
side of my tent. It wouldn’t have been satisfying anyway, and it probably would have just fucked up the poles holding it up.
“He’s having a hard time,” my mom said in apology after my dad was far enough away. “This lockdown is hard on them. All the shit with the Russians, trying to figure out what to do, and then Heather shows up, a blast from the past. It’s a lot.”
“He’s a dick,” I replied, shaking my head. “I’m about done with the way he’s treatin’ her. That shit is seriously fucked up. She hasn’t done shit to him.”
“I know.” Mom sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Mick wasn’t with her,” I repeated, meeting her eyes. “They weren’t like that.”
“I never had any clue what was going on with them,” my mom said with a shrug. “Put a shirt on, and you can walk with me.”
“What, you can’t stand the sight of your baby boy’s manly chest?” I joked. I laughed as she swatted at me, then leaned into the tent and grabbed the last shirt out of my duffle. Hopefully Heather wasn’t planning to light my dirty laundry on fire or anything, because she’d pretty much taken every piece of clothing I owned.
“I never knew what was happening with Micky,” my mom said after we’d been walking for a little while. She’d steered us toward the back of the property until we were walking outside the perimeter of scorched grass. “He was so sweet and he always seemed so transparent, but damn that boy was quiet.”
“Not with me,” I said, smiling. “Little shit never shut up.”
“Well, you were his best friend.” She slid her arm through mine and laid her head on my shoulder. “I was his mom. Boys don’t tell their moms anything.”
“Nah, Heather was his best friend,” I replied.
“Not true,” she protested.
“It was true,” I argued, still smiling. “I was cool with it. I was his brother. He could fart and scratch his balls when he was with me.”
Mom laughed.
“But he talked to her about shit. Stuff he didn’t want to talk to me about.”
“Like what?” she asked, glancing up at me.
“How the hell would I know?” I joked uncomfortably. “I just said he was talking to her, not me.”
“They were cute together,” she said with a grin. “He was so much bigger. It was like a bear and a bunny becoming friends.”
“Yeah. You remember the time out at the house when Mick kept tryin’ to get Heather to stand on his shoulders?”
“I thought she was going to slap him,” Mom said through her giggles.
“‘Come on, Heather, just once, just so I know we can do it,’” I mimicked Mick’s voice.
“‘If you come near me I’m going to hurt you,’” Mom imitated Heather.
I laughed at her perfect impression. Heather had been so offended by the entire thing and that had made it even funnier at the time. I’d always kept my distance when they were hanging out, but we’d all been around her a lot that year when she and Mick were connected at the hip. I’d seen the way she’d looked at him… but more importantly, I’d seen the way he wasn’t looking at her. He’d seen her as a friend, nothing more.
It was why I’d never tried to get in there. I wasn’t all that fired up to play the Hawthorne consolation prize. It really didn’t make any sense that I was screwing around with her now, but for the first time she wasn’t looking at me like the asshole older brother of her best friend. No, when Heather looked at me it always felt like she was picturing my ass naked.
“I hope the guys figure out what the hell we’re going to do,” my mom said with a sigh. “This is the longest lockdown we’ve had in over twenty years. I’m about to go nuts.”
“What, you don’t like living in a commune?” I asked, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.
“I miss my house,” she groaned as we headed back toward the clubhouse. “I want to be where the people aren’t.”
“Yeah, I hear ya,” I said.
“How’s your house coming?” she asked.
“Slow as hell.” I laughed.
It wasn’t common knowledge that I’d saved up and bought a condemned old house. The thing was unlivable and I didn’t really want to hear about how it was a waste of money, so I’d kept the news to myself.
I’d always liked to build things. Fix them up. Make old things like new again. It’s why I’d convinced Mick to pitch in on the 1972 Chevy Nova we’d bought when I was sixteen. He’d only been thirteen at the time, but between the two of us, we’d had enough cash to buy the old junker and slowly but surely we’d made her purr again. That was one of the benefits of helping out at a garage for years before you were actually legal to work. You got paid under the table, didn’t have anywhere to spend the money, and learned mechanics early.
Now that the Nova was finished it was parked at my parents’ house since I was usually on my bike, and I’d started a new project. The house was a disaster, no doubt, but that’s what I dug about it. I’d gotten it for dirt cheap, and I was able to fix it up on my own slow schedule since I was usually sleeping at the clubhouse anyway. The place had rotting floorboards, no toilets, no electricity, broken out windows, and I had to check on it a couple times a week to keep homeless people from camping out, but it was mine.
It calmed me down better than anything else. Taking a sledgehammer to a wall not only seemed to mellow the rage I couldn’t get rid of, but it was also productive. Left me feeling accomplished and shit. I was pretty sure that was one of the reasons my dad had helped me with the down payment.
“Do you have the electricity wired yet?” Mom asked as we reached the back door.
“Nah.” I shook my head. “Gotta figure out where I want the walls first.”
“One day, you’re going to knock down a load-bearing wall and that entire place is going to fall down around you,” she replied worriedly.
“I’m careful,” I promised, stepping around my cousin Cam’s twin boys who were building an elaborate Lincoln Log house in the middle of the hallway. “I know which walls to avoid.”
“Callie, I’m gonna need you to talk me down,” my Aunt Farrah called out as we passed the doorway to her room. “I’m about to strangle your brother.”
My mom laughed. “I better go calm the nutjob.”
She hugged my side, then spun around and walked into Casper’s room. My aunt started yelling before she’d even closed the door behind her.
They were the funniest pair of friends I’d ever seen and they’d been friends for a long ass time. My mom was pretty mellow. She didn’t get worked up about shit very often and when she did, my dad calmed her down quick. Aunt Farrah was the opposite. It was all drama with her, and my uncle Casper fucking encouraged it.
I walked through the crowded clubhouse and almost groaned in annoyance. There were people everywhere. You couldn’t walk two feet without running into someone, and I completely understood my mom’s cabin fever. I was lucky—I spent most of my time in the garage bays working and anyone who wasn’t working wasn’t allowed inside. It was too fucking dangerous to have the kids running around like little chickens with their heads cut off. When things were normal, it wasn’t a big deal if someone brought their kid into work with them. Most of them were pretty well behaved and they were just stoked to be helping out their dad for the day. But when you got more than two together, especially during a lockdown? Chaos.
“Your dad still giving you shit?” my friend Leo asked as I bellied up to the bar.
I eyed the whiskey on the back shelf. “Is the world still spinnin’?”
“He’ll mellow,” Leo replied with a nod. I had a feeling that as a patched in member he knew a shit lot more than I did about what was happening with the club, especially since his dad was the president. “You with that blonde girl?” he asked, turning so he could lean back against the bar. “Hawk?”
“Why does everyone keep calling her Hawk?” I asked in confusion, turning to see what he was looking at.
Heather was sprawled out on one of t
he couches with Molly’s daughter, looking at a little tablet. Whatever they were watching must have been playing music, because Rebel’s head was nodding and Heather’s bare feet were swaying where they hung over the arm of the couch.
“That’s how she’s been introducin’ herself,” Leo said, catching my attention again. “Hey, I’m Hawk, what’s your name,” he said with a snicker. “Bitch has said hello to damn near everyone.”
That didn’t surprise me. She’d never been one to sit quietly in the corner. The girl liked company.
“I’ve heard the little one call her that, too,” Leo said, still staring at Heather. It was beginning to annoy me.
“Her name’s Heather,” I replied shortly.
His head turned slowly until he was facing me. “Think I’ll call her Hawk,” he said with a smirk. He waited for me to say something, to lose my shit, but when I didn’t, he got up and walked away.
I held my body still for as long as I could, then finally couldn’t stop myself from turning to see where he went. He hadn’t even gone near Heather, thank Christ. I could deal with Leo’s bullshit when I knew he was poking at me; he was my best friend and I’d been dealing with his shit since birth. But I wasn’t sure I could keep myself calm if I saw him with her.
* * *
“Got news,” Dragon announced.
It was hot as fuck inside with the fans off and the doors closed, but it was the only place all of us fit if we wanted to have a meeting away from the women and kids. The officers had been holed up nearly all day in church going over shit I had no clue about. Apparently they’d decided to let the masses know something, because the minute they’d come out we’d been herded into the garage like cattle.
“Been waiting on the Feds to finish their little Russian round up,” Dragon said with a smile. “Might as well let somebody else do some of the heavy lifting first.”
Some of the guys chuckled, but most of us just waited.
Craving Hawk Page 4