The Irresistible Curves Collection

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The Irresistible Curves Collection Page 5

by Christa Wick


  Seeing the cold anger burning in Hawk's eyes sent a shiver down my spine. If anyone was to blame for the accident, I wouldn't want to be them.

  "The turntable slipped." Red grimaced as he answered, fat beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. "And that damn fool Deitrich didn't have a stocked kit on site. That rig aint cursed, it's just the shit-for-brains rig boss running it."

  Beau, who hated to say anything bad about anybody, gave a firm nod. Hawk's mouth flattened to a grim line. He hoisted Red up and Beau took the other side while I rushed to open the office door for them and then the passenger door to Red's truck so they could fold him inside.

  "I'll take care of number eight, old man, and its soon-to-be former rig boss." Hawk gave Red's shoulder a little squeeze then tossed Red's keys to Beau. "You just let Kelly drive you to the clinic and then home. And don't hassle the nurses too much. I'll stop by this evening and check on you."

  A smile broke across Red's face and he winked. "If there's a pretty enough nurse, I might not be alone. Make sure you knock and give me plenty of time to get my pants on!"

  A soft smile playing across his lips, Hawk waved them off then ushered me back into the office, his face grim once more.

  "Get me Dietrich's file and the time cards for the rest of the crew on eight."

  Quickly checking the board, I grabbed the timesheets and the file and handed everything to Hawk.

  He placed the stack on my desk then grabbed my shoulders.

  "Lock the door. No one from eight needs to come back to the office today for any reason. Let the other crews in and process them for the week. Whatever you do, don't let Dietrich in, even if it means keeping others out. The man's a hot head and I don't want him blowing off any steam and scaring you in the process."

  I started to give Hawk a look telling him I could take care of myself, but he cut my protest off at the knees.

  "You will obey my instructions, Ginny, or I'll paddle that sweet ass when I get back. Do you understand?"

  Struck dumb by the threat, I nodded. Hawk smiled, pinched my chin and brushed his lips lightly across mine.

  Lightning sizzled through my skin and bones.

  "Oh, and that little conversation about you staring at my ass?" He kissed me, the little dip of his tongue inside my mouth so sweet and tender it curled my toes. "It's not finished."

  11

  Ginny

  Just as the weather forecast had predicted that morning, a big storm started rolling into town about two hours later.

  Half an hour after that, the crews followed, leaving early and reporting lightning strikes and hail. The last crew through the door said Hawk had radioed and wanted me to close up and head home.

  I gave a little sigh of relief. The storm had interfered with the radios, leaving me worried about whatever scene was unfolding out on eight. Plus I was in no hurry to see Hawk McKinley. I needed a little time on my own so my guilt over appreciating his backside wouldn't be written large across my face when he decided it was time to finish our conversation.

  Seeing the last crew member out the door, I went around unplugging the computers and any other sensitive electronics. The storm sounded like a big one that wanted to last all night. Locking the door as I left, I about jumped out of my skin as lightning streaked through the sky to hit the ground.

  One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-

  BOOM

  I dropped my keys, terror filling my chest. The strike less than half a mile away, the cloud that had caused it was rolling fast towards the building. I scooped my keys up, took another look at the dark horizon eating up the sky and ran for my truck.

  My-beat-the-hell-up, older-than-I-was, useless-Chevy-that-would-not-turn-the-heck-over truck!

  Don't panic.

  Stay calm.

  Another sizzle of white flashed closer than before, the first thousand count not even finished rolling off my tongue when another booming crack shook the vehicle.

  The truck door flew open. A big hand reached inside to yank me from the cab and rush me to the office door. Rain falling hard and fast, I couldn't see who had hold of me, just that it was a male.

  I prayed it wasn't Dietrich.

  The man got the keys out of my hand, opened the door then pushed me inside. I fumbled for the light switch, flipped it and turned to see Hawk soaking wet and locking the door. He peeled off his t-shirt, and wrung it out over the trash can as he stared out the window.

  Words don't do justice to how good Hawk McKinley looks bare chested and dripping wet. Lean, with all the muscle groups clearly defined, he's absolute perfection. Hell, he has muscles I've never seen except in a magazine, like the one along the side of his stomach. Big as an avocado, it would fill my palm if I was brave enough to touch him. Perfect for bracing my hands against if I were on my knees and taking him in my mouth.

  Not that I've done that to a guy, hadn't even fantasized about it until meeting the man in front of me.

  I tried to shake the image and peel my eyes from his naked torso, but little details kept drawing me back. Like the small drops of rain that sparkled against his tanned chest. Wanting to lick every last drop away, my tongue felt about three times its normal size and the flesh between my legs started to swell and ache.

  Still holding the shirt over the trash can, Hawk dropped it and an F-bomb at the same time.

  "Fuck, that’s a funnel cloud. Come on, baby girl." Grabbing me by the arm, he hurried me into the windowless storage room and pressed me against one of the inside walls, his body shielding me.

  He must have felt how hard I was shaking because he dipped his head and rubbed his cheek against mine. "Shh…Sweet Tea. It'll blow through."

  The building chose that instant to lose power, the lights going with a sharp pop. I started to shake harder. Closing my eyes, all I could see was Daddy hurt and tornadoes barreling down at him.

  Hawk wrapped his arms around me and tugged me to the floor. He had me sitting across one of his muscled thighs, his other leg over mine as the rest of his big body cradled me. "Come on, Ginny, you've been through storms like this before."

  That was exactly the problem. A storm like this had all but killed Daddy and erased everything he'd worked so hard to build. What would this one do? I didn't think I could lose anything else—anyone else—and survive.

  "Shh…" Hawk rubbed my arms then squeezed me more tightly. "This building is meant to stand up to an F4, Sweet Tea. That itty-bitty cloud is probably gone already. We're just going to sit awhile…shh"

  As he spoke, his reassuring strokes along my arm slowly altered. They elongated, punctuated by little squeezes that were soon joined by kisses across my cheeks and, after an excruciating delay, against my quivering mouth.

  "Wh-what are you doing?" My whole body was shaking by then, fear just one ingredient.

  "Distracting you, Sweet Tea." He kissed me again, this time slow and long. His hand moved from my arm to cup my breast and thumb one thick nipple through my blouse. "Is it working?"

  Too breathless to answer, I burrowed closer.

  Hawk shifted ever so slightly. All out of office-type clothes that week, I had thrown on a Sunday skirt that hung long and loose past my knees. His fingers found the hem then he smoothed them up my plump thighs to stroke at the outside of my panties and the flesh beneath.

  I moaned and buried my face against his neck.

  "Is that a yes, Sweet Tea?" He rubbed his face against my hair as his fingers kept moving. "Are you going to let me stroke and kiss the fear away? Let me tease this soft, sweet pussy as my tongue fucks its way past those trembling lips and all you can think of is how good it feels?"

  I pressed tighter against his chest, my hips jerking once with lustful abandon.

  That moaning, cresting response was the only one Hawk would get, the only one he needed. His fingers slipped beneath the band of my panties as his mouth found mine. His tongue made feather strokes at the edges of my lips, seducing them into parting more fully as his grip against my pussy g
rew more possessive. He cupped my mound, the heel of his palm pressing firmly against the top split of my labia as a lone finger stroked lower down between them.

  I fought off a sultry whine of need until Hawk corrected me.

  "Sweet Tea, I can't see you. At least let me hear your moans."

  His hand shifted, curling so that the flat of his thumb nestled against my clit while that stroking finger moved to circle my hole. He dipped inside then withdrew, breaking the kiss long enough to suck my flavor from his finger.

  Back in, his tongue possessing my mouth, transferring my taste to me as he slowly fucked three fingers, hard and thick, into my pussy. His thumb rode the length of my clit and I started to wiggle, moving with him as my hands curled and clutched at his thick biceps.

  I mewled, my mouth still sealed to his. With a growl, Hawk abandoned my pussy to push my blouse up over my breasts. Uncupping one swollen tit from my bra, he bent his head and sucked the nipple as his fingers resumed their sweet torture between my tense and flexing thighs.

  "Come for me, Sweet Tea." He sucked the nipple deep into his mouth, taking in the areola and tip then pulling them taut as he drew back. "Moan for me. Let me feel this sweet hole quiver around my fingers."

  His hands started to move faster, flexing, thinning, driving hard and deep into me. I began to buck, letting him hear me as I climaxed around his flesh, my cream warm and thick against my thighs, my pussy pushing more out with each contraction.

  Tears streamed from me. He kissed them away before claiming my mouth once more, his fingers never ceasing until I was wrung out and collapsed against his broad chest.

  12

  Hawk

  My fierce Ginny turned to jelly, first with her physical release then with the trembling that wouldn't stop even after my fingers left her. I planted soft kisses against her face, smoothed her hair and then her skirt. I delicately folded her breasts back into the bra, caressing and cooing because she shook harder when I didn't.

  Trying to unclench them from around my shoulder, I kissed her fingers.

  Eventually, the question barreled through my thick skull.

  "Baby, have you gone this far with a man before?"

  The lack of certainty in her mumbled "yes" tore a chunk of meat from my heart.

  "Consensually?" I asked, trying to keep a threatening rage from bubbling up into my voice.

  "Y-yes," she answered, finally retracting her fingers from my shoulder and the opposing dip in my waist.

  Trying to figure out the source of her near violent tremble, I posed another question.

  "Did he make you come?"

  "No," she whispered.

  Fresh heat flared low in my gut. She wasn't completely innocent, which was a relief. But she hadn't properly been handled. Whatever boy or man had been lucky enough to share in Ginny's intimacy hadn't done his job. He hadn't made her swoon, quiver uncontrollably, or fill his palm with cream like she had filled mine.

  "I loved making you orgasm, Sweet Tea. Loved your moans, loved how wet my touch made you."

  With a fresh tremble running through her, Ginny pressed her face against my throat. I threaded my fingers through her hair and demanded a kiss instead. Her lips instantly yielded. With my tongue sweeping into her mouth, I palmed one ripe breast, teasing the hard nipple through the fabric.

  Her ass squirmed against my lap. Her fingers began to dig in again. Breaking the kiss, I eased her further down my legs. I wanted my cock in her, wanted to stare at that beautiful face and into the bright green eyes as I took slow thrust after thrust, stretching a pussy that was tight even to my fingers.

  But, as much as I had planned on conquering Ginny, I wasn't carrying around a pack of condoms or the lubricant we would likely need until her body adjusted to my size. I didn't want to hurt Ginny. Not her body, not her heart.

  "Spend the night with me," I said, my hands lightly caging her wrists so she couldn't retreat at the request. "I rented a little place on the edge of Tupperville."

  She didn't try to pull free, but her hands wiggled nervously within my loose grip.

  "I have to go home. My parents will be freaking out after the storm. Beau will come looking for me, if he hasn't already…"

  "We'll find a working phone, you'll call them."

  Ginny rolled her wrists. I withdrew my hold.

  "They aren't used to my staying out. Not once. And everyone will be outside, checking their house and vehicles for damage. People will see."

  She skittered all the way off me, walked over to the door that led to the office, and opened it.

  "The storm's passed. I need to go home."

  She left the storage room. I didn't try to stall or stop her, just sat there for a few long minutes puzzling over Ginny's resistance. She didn't want to be seen with me, she didn't want her parents to know she was out with a man.

  None of that meant she didn't want my touch, my kisses and caresses, or the hard cock still aching for her even as I heard the entrance door close and lock from the outside.

  With a snort, I rolled onto my feet, went into the outer office and scooped my t-shirt up from the trashcan I had dropped it into upon seeing the funnel cloud. A glance out the glass door revealed Ginny's truck still parked. I could hear her trying to turn over the engine.

  Leaving her to it, I shook out my shirt and took it into the office, hanging it on a peg so it could finish drying. From the bottom left drawer on my desk, I pulled out a fresh one and shrugged it on.

  The truck still wasn't turning over as I re-locked the office door. Even though I knew the vehicle was old and needed major repairs done, it was another moment between us that felt more like fate than chance. It might take a few more minutes of resistance, but Ginny was going to let me take her home.

  Hiding my smile, I walked over to the Mustang and held the passenger door open, my patience unyielding.

  13

  Ginny

  Folding me into his Mustang because of my dang mutinous truck, Hawk gave me one last growly purr before shutting the door and hustling around to the driver's side. He slid behind the wheel, pushed the key into the ignition, but didn't turn it.

  "What time do your parents go to sleep?"

  Pretending to straighten my skirt, I mumbled something about them usually being in bed by ten.

  "And Beau?"

  My cheeks flushed hot. It was nobody's business if Beau spent most nights at Shelly's. "He's not a problem."

  I fidgeted, my hands jumping from the seat belt to the door lock to the air vent, all to avoid having them anywhere near my fevered flesh. My body still tingled with the memory of Hawk's touch, my stomach and insides squeezing around an invisible center as I thought of all the sweet, dirty, delicious things he had said he wanted to do to me while his fingers stroked and probed.

  "Then I'll be at the end of your drive, headlights off, at eleven," he warned. "If I don't see you, I'm grabbing my guitar and singing outside whichever window looks most likely to be yours."

  "You can't! Why, Daddy would—"

  Hawk stopped my protests with the clamp of his hand between my legs and a long, hard squeeze. "Eleven, Sweet Tea."

  Okay.

  At eleven-oh-five I crept into the Mustang, moonlight glinting off an acoustic guitar in the backseat. Hearing me gasp, Hawk chuckled and quietly pulled away from the drive. I watched my house through the side mirror, heart thumping in my chest until the old place faded from sight without any interior lights turning on.

  He caressed my cheek before his hand moved down to the gear box. "You act like you never snuck out before."

  "I haven't," I confessed, embarrassment gurgling in my throat. "The time or two…"

  I trailed off, realizing I was on the verge of exposing just how inexperienced I was. Bad enough I had already admitted to not climaxing from a man's efforts before. He probably already knew why that was. The guy hadn't thought I was worth pleasing.

  "Time or two?" Hawk's voice gripped each word and then he graced me with that
grunty little purr of his.

  "Can we not talk about this?" My tone sounded as pink to my ears as I knew my cheeks were.

  "Sweet Tea," he rumbled, his hand moving off the stick shift to stroke my leg. "If we don't talk about it, how will I know if I'm moving too fast?"

  I snorted at that. "Hawk McKinley, you'll always move too fast for a girl like me."

  That was the honest truth. Even when he took it slow, it was still too fast and I was left sorting everything out in my head afterwards.

  Hawk gave my thigh a hard squeeze then upshifted. Ten minutes later, the Mustang pulled into his garage. We entered the house through the side door, out of sight of any neighbors still awake. I had hoped we could sit on the couch and talk for a bit, but he scooped me up—every last shocked and delighted ounce of me—and carried me straight to the bedroom.

  There was no hiding in the dark, either. Hawk placed me center of the bed, lights blazing above and around us. He draped his body over mine, our clothes still on, and started kissing me and running his hands along my arms, neck and face until I forgot how exposed I was and how much more exposed I would soon be.

  Once he had me squirming, he lifted off my body, balancing on one elbow while his free hand undid the buttons on my blouse. I had, of course, changed to the prettiest bra and underwear I had, the lace a pale rose that cast a pink blush on the surrounding skin. The bra hooked at the front. He released the clasp but left my breasts covered. Still kissing me, Hawk eased his hand under the fabric of the bra to massage my nipple.

  Feeling me tug at his t-shirt, he helped me get him out of it. Free to gawk at him, I soaked the beautiful sight in, noticing more details, like the tight, dark nipples. I licked my lips as my gaze traced the perimeter of one. His head dipped toward my mouth, his tongue stroking against mine as he palmed my breast.

  "I want to see you, all of you." I ran one hand against his muscled back, my fingers stroking the thick, curving contours.

 

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