HAWK: The Caged Kings MC

by Kathryn Thomas

  She realizes that soon he’s going to start wondering if she was actually capable of speaking. “Thanks…for getting rid of that creep.”

  Hawk shrugs as if to say it was no big deal. “You looked like you were doing pretty well before I showed up.” He levels her with that admiring look of his and she has to break eye contact before he renders her mute again. Damn, but the man was handsome. Handsome in the kind of movie star smoldering way you don’t really believe exists in real life.

  She hides her smile of satisfaction that he’d noticed she wasn’t just some damsel in distress. “I do okay.” She shrugs like she gets into fights all the time when the truth is that she can only count on one hand the number of times she’s actually had to use any of her karate in the outside world.

  He nods to Matt as the bartender places their drinks down in front of them before moving off to take another order. It’s clear he’s a friend; he doesn’t seem to have any issues with the scuffle that just went down in his place.

  “Haven’t seen you around here before.” It’s a throwaway comment but Melissa gets the feeling from the way Hawk’s eyes never seem to rest on one thing for too long that he doesn’t miss much.

  “Haven’t been ‘round here before.” She takes a swig of her beer, noticing he has dimples when he smiles.

  “You always talk this much?” He raises a questioning eyebrow at her and she laughs out loud at his joke.

  “Only after a bar brawl.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  She feels a jolt in her chest as they stare at each other and notices the flare of attraction in his eyes. She feels like she could burn up under the intensity of this man’s stare. Her eyes drop to his lips and she wonders what it would be like to kiss him. His mouth quirks up in a sexy smile like he knows exactly what she’s thinking and she feels herself blush for the second time that night. She drops her gaze back to the beer bottle she’s absently playing with in her hands, searching for something to cut the tension.

  “So you come here a lot?” She cringes at the lameness of her question. It sounds like a pickup, exactly the opposite of what she was going for.

  He throws her an amused look, but seems to take pity on her. “I guess. It’s biker-friendly and there aren’t too many of those places around.”

  Melissa feels excitement prickling her skin. This is what she’d come here for: information on the MC, not to get hypnotized by some guy’s eyes. “You’re a biker?”

  “Guilty as charged.” He opens his arms and, absently, Melissa notices the tattoos on the inside of his tight biceps. One is an illustration of a motorbike and the other is a flowing script with the word ‘Brotherhood.’ She’s seen enough biker tattoos from her day of Internet research to know that these most definitely qualify.

  “So you’re part of a Motorcycle Club?” She frowns, looking like she’s not sure if that’s even the right term.

  “Trying to be.” He takes another swig of his beer, signaling the end to that line of questioning.

  “You always talk this much?” She watches as his eyes twinkle in amusement at her.

  “Only when I’m with a pretty girl who can bring a grown man to his knees.” He pins her with that look of his again and Melissa swallows hard. “So am I allowed to ask?”

  Melissa frowns at him, wondering where this is going and hoping to hell that he isn’t about to ask how much she charges. “What? What my specialty is?” She figures it’s better to face the elephant in the room head-on rather than skirting around it. He barks a laugh at her bluntness and Melissa registers what a great sound it is.

  Focus, Potter, focus.

  “That wasn’t the route I was going. You don’t exactly look the type.” He emphasizes his point looking her up and down, his eyes lingering on her long legs and figure hugging leather top.

  She feels herself flush again and does what she always does when she’s nervous, she covers it with a joke. “Apparently that’s exactly what I look like.” She holds out her arms as if to make it plain that she’s well aware of how slutty she looks. Damn you, Ali and your Dominatrix outfit, she thinks to herself. Her outfit had clearly needed more research than she’d put into it. “So what did you want to ask?” She plays with the bottle in front of her, wondering why she cares what he’s about to say.

  “Well, you don’t look like the kind of girl who turns tricks. So why are you dressed like one? From the way you’re squirming around in that get-up I’m guessing it’s not the kind of thing you usually go for.” He says the words simply, but Melissa isn’t fooled, he clearly sees more than he makes out.

  A little embarrassed at the fact that her outfit has so clearly given out the wrong impression, Melissa says the first thing that comes into her head before she’s had time to check if it sounds remotely plausible or not. “It was a dare from a friend.” She rolls her eyes theatrically. “This place is sort of a well-known biker hangout, we played truth or dare, I chose the dare. So here I am. My friend Ali thought it would be funny and she was right up until I was mistaken for an extra from Pretty Woman.” She shrugs, looking up at him and hoping that her explanation doesn’t sound as ridiculous to him as it does to her.

  He doesn’t seem ready to buy her story just yet, but he doesn’t question her. Instead he just looks into her bottomless blue eyes as deeply as she’s looking into his. Melissa wonders if that has anything to do with the reason he’s willing to put his reservations about her story to one side.

  “So now I know the name of your friend that managed to persuade you into that outfit, but I don’t know yours.” He looks at her expectantly, leaning in a little closer than necessary and it strikes Melissa that he’s flirting with her. Sure, it’s an ego boost, but she hasn’t forgotten the very familiar way he was chatting with the waitress from earlier, perhaps this is just the way he behaves with everyone.

  Get a grip, Potter, this guy probably has women falling at his feet on a daily basis. Just because he’s being nice to you doesn’t mean he’s interested.

  “Is it really that bad?” She stands up a little straighter and puts her hands on her hips, realizing she’s flirting with him.

  He gives her a blatant slow once over, from the tips of her borrowed boots right up to her big blue eyes that Ali has managed to make look even bigger tonight. It couldn’t be any different to the once over she’d had from his girlfriend earlier or from the Drunk Suit Guy. It doesn’t make her feel cheap or trashy. It makes her feel sexy and it warms her right through.

  “Bad is definitely not the word I’d used to describe how you look. But you don’t need to fish for compliments. I have no problem telling a girl how pretty she is.” He shoots her a cocky smile that would probably be infuriating if he weren’t so damn attractive and Melissa feels herself flush. “So are you going to avoid my question or are you going to tell me your name?” He takes another sip of his beer, looking nonchalant, as if it doesn’t matter to him if she tells him or not. As the silent seconds tick by, eventually he sighs heavily and sticks his hand out towards her as if he’s showing her something she hasn’t seen before. “How about this? I’ll go first. I’m Hawk, nice to meet you…”

  She smiles, enjoying the game and his complete confidence in himself. “My name’s Melissa.” She shakes his offered hand, almost giggling at the formality of the act after the events of the night. But any desire she has to laugh is abruptly stifled by the zing that jolts through her as she touches him. His hand is warm and strong and she feels the heat travel through her body right down to her core.

  Hawk watches her as her emotions play out across her face. She had never been very good at keeping a poker face. He gives her that sexy grin of his again and Melissa abruptly pulls her hand away from his as if his touch had burned her. In a way it had. She takes a hurried sip of her drink, more from a lack of anything else to do to distract her from the sexy man next to her than because she actually wanted the beer.

  “So where’d you learn the moves you pulled on that asshole?” Hawk jerks h
is head towards the exit where he’d escorted Drunk Suit Guy. “You looked like you knew what you were doing.”

  “I’ve been doing martial arts since I was a kid. I’ve only had to use it a few times in real life.” She realizes her hand trembles against her beer.

  Hawk’s warm hand covers her shaking one. “It’s normal that you’re a little shook up. It would be weird if you weren’t. This kind of stuff doesn’t happen to most people every day.” The gentleness in his eyes makes her heart melt a little.

  “If that’s true, why do I get the feeling that this wasn’t your first fight?” She raises a questioning eyebrow at him, surreptitiously slipping her hand out from under his and immediately missing the contact when she does.

  “You couldn’t really call that a fight.” He shakes his head dismissively at the thought.

  Melissa wonders if he’s normally this cagey or if he’s purposefully avoiding answers to her questions. The thought crosses her mind that, perhaps she isn’t the only one with something to hide. Her cell buzzes insistently in her pocket, interrupting her train of thought. It’s Ali, asking her when she’s going to be done.

  Suddenly Melissa feels exhausted. Her first night on the reporting job that she’s expecting to kick start her whole career has pretty much been a bust. Between being mistaken for a hooker, getting involved in a bar brawl, and having found out absolutely zero information about the Caged Kings, she could officially call this night a complete waste of time. Hawk throws her one of those intense stares of his and she rectifies her assessment of the night. Perhaps it wasn’t a complete waste.

  “I should get back. It was nice to meet you, Hawk, and thanks again for your help.” She signals for Matt to tell her what she owes.

  “Those are on me, Matt.” Hawk beats her to the punch and Matt doesn’t seem to have any intention of taking her money.

  Melissa contemplates arguing, but the night has been way too long for her not to appreciate a seriously hot, nice guy buying her a drink. “Then thanks again, I guess.” She throws him a smile and grabs her jacket.

  “Hold up, where’s the fire?” Hawk catches hold of her arm before she manages to walk past him.

  Melissa throws him a questioning glance, trying not to notice the electric current that runs up her arm from the contact between them. “No fire. I should just get going. My friend will probably be wondering why I haven’t called her yet to come get me.”

  “Ali.” Hawk nods knowingly and Melissa can’t help but feel a little thrill of triumph that he’s cared enough to actually listen to her and remember her friend’s name. He straightens up, coming to his full height so that she has to look up at him, at five-nine it’s not easy to find a guy who towers over her like Hawk does. He makes her feel small and delicate and feminine. It’s a nice feeling. “You ever been on a bike?”

  Melissa raises an eyebrow, surprised at the question. “Like a motorcycle?” She wishes the stupidity of the words back as soon as they’re out of her mouth.

  Hawk’s lips spread into that sexy smile of his. “Yeah, a motorcycle. I could give you a ride home. It’s on my way.”

  Melissa levels him with a flat look. “You don’t even know where I live!”

  He shrugs. “Wherever it is, I’m sure it’s on my way.” His cockiness would be annoying on anyone else, but it really seems to work for him, his confidence making him even more appealing. Without waiting for her response, he takes her hand and leads her out of the bar as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It’s only when Melissa is out in the cold night air that rational thought seems to penetrate her brain. She plants her feet, and Hawk looks at her questioningly. “Doesn’t your girlfriend mind you taking strange girls on your bike?”

  “Girlfriend?” He says the word as if it were a foreign concept and Melissa makes a note to herself that it should set alarm bells ringing. Hawk is clearly not the kind of guy that stays with one girl for long. Between his impossibly good looks and his confidence, it’s not hard to imagine that he probably has his pick of girls and is more of a love ‘em and leave ‘em sort. She doesn’t know why that makes her feel a little deflated.

  “The waitress…Felicia.” She gestures vaguely behind her, releasing her arm from his grip in the process to allow her to think a little clearer.

  Hawk laughs, a deep warm chuckle that she feels right down to her core. She folds her arms over her chest, and her chin goes up, not enjoying the fact that he seems to find her so wholly amusing. Hawk catches her expression and seems to register the fire behind her eyes. He holds his hands up in a surrender pose and has the decency to look a little contrite.

  “Hey, don’t get mad, although it kinda works for you.” He throws her a cheeky wink and Melissa finds it hard not to smile. His expression sobers, like he wants her to take on board what he’s saying. “Felicia is a friend, that’s all. We’ve known each other a long time. She’s not my girlfriend.” Melissa feels the tension go out of her body at his words and the green-eyed monster of jealousy goes back into her box. Hawk watches her as if he can see through her and knows what emotions she’s going through. The thought of that is both disconcerting and exciting. “Better now?”

  Melissa gives him a warning look, but it’s hard to keep up when a smile is creeping onto her lips.

  “Good.” He nods, like he hadn’t expected any other outcome. “So tell your friend you don’t need a ride and let’s get going.” He strides purposefully towards one of the many motorbikes sitting outside the bar, clearly expecting her to follow.

  Melissa looks down at her cell where she’d already drafted a text at the start of the night with the word ‘Monopoly,’ ready to send at the first sign of trouble. Without analyzing what she’s doing, she deletes the word and fires off a message to Ali to say that she’s making her own way home and not to worry. She shoves the cell back into her bag, knowing Ali will be lighting up her phone with message after message quizzing her and she’s not quite ready for that yet.

  She takes a deep breath and follows Hawk who is now straddling his gleaming black and silver bike and holding out a helmet for her. They lock eyes and there’s a definite attraction between them. It’s an undeniable pull that clouds her mind.

  “Don’t be scared, Melissa.” The serious look that Hawk gives her makes her wonder if he’s talking about the bike or something altogether different.

  “I’m not.” She grabs the helmet, pulling it on and settling herself on the bike behind him.

  He lets out a low chuckle. “Where we headed, Melissa?”

  She smiles at the way he says her name. It feels almost intimate. She rattles off her address and he lets out a low whistle.

  “So you’re a ‘right side of the tracks’ kind of girl. I can work with that. Hold on.” She doesn’t have time to ask what he can work with or to protest at the fact that he’s classified her as an ‘uptown girl.’

  As the bike starts to move she lets go of any reticence and wraps her arms around his waist, feeling the warmth of his body through his leather jacket. He guns the engine and she holds on even tighter, partly out of a sense of self-preservation and partly because she just likes the feel of his strong body against hers. Between that and the powerful engine vibrating between her legs, it’s hard to concentrate on anything but how good she feels.

  They zip through the streets and Melissa feels a euphoria that she hasn’t ever experienced before. It isn’t exactly a stretch to understand why bikers love the rush. By the time they pull up outside the little house that she and Ali are renting, the adrenaline is still pumping around her system. She pulls off her helmet and jumps off of the bike feeling pumped.

  “That was amazing!” She’s breathless and her eyes sparkle with excitement.

  Hawk looks at her in a way that makes her heart do somersaults in her chest. Zing, she thinks to herself. She breaks eye contact, handing him back his helmet and trying to get her brain back under control and stop it from going off
on tangents to do with Hawk’s eyes, his strong hands and what she’d like him to do with them.

  Stop it, Potter. Get a grip.

  “Thanks for the ride and for your help earlier.” She waits a beat. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

  Hawk doesn’t say anything. He just keeps looking at her until his eyes slide past her to the car behind. His eyes widen and he jumps off his bike to take a closer look. “Holy shit! Is that a ’75 Mustang?” He runs his hands along the damaged bodywork, looking like a kid at Christmas.

  Melissa tries not to sigh at the realization that Hawk is more interested in her classic car than her. It’s a sobering thought and enough to snap her out of her daydreaming. “Yeah, it’s seen better days.” That’s probably the understatement of the century, she thinks to herself as she looks at the dented and rusted bodywork. “It was my mom’s. She’s had it since forever. It was my graduation present.” Melissa can’t help but smile when she talks about her mother. They had always been close and the fact that she would give Melissa the car that had meant so much to her completely outweighed the fact that the car was more or less a wreck.