by Wendy Stone
"You're coming,” he groaned, heat and wetness bathing his cock even as spasms caressed him.
"Yes!” Kenzie cried, her tone one of disbelief.
It was all he'd been waiting for. Throwing his head back, he slammed his big body into hers, letting loose what little control he had left. It roared over him with the subtleness of a freight train, stealing his breath, his thoughts, everything except for the sensations of her.
When it was over, he collapsed next to her, reaching over to draw her against him. His chest was heaving as he fought to catch his breath. His hands, shaking with the after effects, held her gently.
"Are you okay?” he panted.
"Okay?” She lifted up slightly, her eyes wide. “That was...wow!"
Hawk chuckled, his hands pulling her back down. “That's the writer in you coming out, all those descriptive words...Ouch!” He rubbed at his chest where she'd bit him. “What'd you do that for?"
"What'd I do that for? As if you didn't know,” she snorted pushing away from him and rolling onto her back, though her hand reached for his.
"Okay, so I deserved it, but you've got to let me gloat a little. I mean, how often does the great Mackenzie Hunter, Investigative Reporter, find herself speechless?"
Kenzie glared over at him, then her expression changed, a smile curving her lips. “You want to gloat?” she asked him quietly.
"Uh,” Hawk hedged, staring over at her, his eyes narrowing with distrust. “I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that it might get my ass kicked."
"Smart boy,” Kenzie grinned, leaning over to kiss him.
He pulled away before she could distract him. “Mac?"
"Yeah?"
"You'll stay with me tonight?"
"Just tonight?"
"Well, I wasn't going to push my chances, but I'm free tomorrow night and the next and the next..."
Her fingers came down softly across his lips. “I'll stay. Now, shut up and kiss me."
* * * *
He waited until the day began to seep in, slowly draining away the dark. With a growl of rage, he turned the ignition on his car, backing slowly out of his parking spot. He put the car into gear, pulled out into the almost nonexistent traffic.
His nose twitched, nostrils flaring as if they smelled something infinitely pleasurable. Turning his head, he spotted the gas station on the corner, empty of customers, a loan clerk sitting in a small booth, a book in front of him.
He smiled, hit his turn signal and pulled in, stopping his car at the furthest pump. Leaving the car running, he grabbed a credit card from the wallet he'd stolen earlier that night, sliding it into the pay slot. It was approved quickly and he opened the gas tank on his car, filling it up. Glancing over at the kid in the booth, he noticed that he'd gone back to his book, barely giving him another look.
Letting the gas run, he pulled the nozzle from his car, spilling the acrid liquid down the side of his car and over to the large trash barrel. He shoved the nozzle down deep into the barrel, coating old drive thru bags and newspapers. There was a hole in the bottom of the barrel, the clear, yellowish liquid spilling out to trail towards the small booth.
He quickly recapped his gas tank, reaching into his pocket for the packet of matches... Yanking down some of the blue window washing towels, he lit them carefully, making sure they were burning well before sliding into his car and tossing them into the trash can.
He was out of the lot and back onto the street before the can caught fire with a loud thu-wamp. The rivulets of gas gushed out of the bottom and turned into trails of fire. Glancing into his rearview mirror, he saw the kid in the booth glance up and then stare in disbelief at the flames that were rushing toward him.
The chuckle that tore from his throat was rusty sounding, almost a squeak. He kept driving, glancing often into his rearview mirror as the rest of the station went up, the kid and his book flying from the booth, running hell bent as far away as he could.
He was far enough away when he heard the first siren, but all he could see was the smoke funneling up between the buildings, darkening the sky behind him. Pulling over into a side parking lot, he quickly unzipped his pants, his hand grasping his cock, was wanking with quick hard strokes against the angry, red flesh. It took but seconds and he was coming, his window down to catch the wonderful scent of the smoke, his eyes glazed with the memory of how beautiful the fire had looked as she ate.
"Pervert!"
He glanced up, staring at the girl who glared at him through his window. In his mind, he saw her on fire, her brown hair flaming red, her pale skin blackening and peeling away from lips that were wide open with her screams.
A final gush of semen spurted from the end of his cock, flying through the window and hitting the girl's tee shirt. She stared down at it, her mouth opened in a wide ‘o’ of disgust. “Ewww,” she cried.
"That'll teach you to mind your own,” he muttered angrily. “Now get or else!"
"I'm calling the cops on you,” she screamed, her hand raised as if she would strike him. “I'm going to call them and tell them what a pervert whack job you are. I got the evidence right here!"
He'd been in the progress of putting the car into reverse to back out when he heard her words... Slamming it back into park, he tore the keys from the ignition and got out of the car. He scanned the parking lot quickly, seeing nobody and then grabbed her as she made an attempt to run.
"No!” she cried out, as his hand came over her mouth. “I won't t...mmpff."
"No, you won't,” he agreed. He grabbed the tee shirt at the collar, ripping downward quickly and pulling it off her struggling body.
"See this?” he asked her, whispering the words in her ear as he lifted his hand in front of her, the same hand that now held her wadded up shirt. “See the scars and the burns? If you tell anyone anything, I'll come back and I'll make sure you're pretty face looks like this when I'm done with you. Understand?"
His hand was a mass of thick ridged scars and angry red tissue. It was shiny looking, almost like something unreal that could be seen in some slasher film. She stared at it, her eyes wide with horror above the angry clasp of his hand.
"Do you understand?” he asked again, shaking her.
She nodded, relieved when he let her go and got back into his car, leaving her sprawled on the black topped surface of the parking lot. She'd had a tank top on under her shirt, tucked into her cutoff shorts, now ripped and dirty.
He peeled out, his front tires missing her by mere inches, leaving her curled into a ball, tears of fright streaming down her cheeks.
* * * *
The explosion blew out windows in a two block radius, shaking panes of glass and setting off car alarms to add to the cacophony of the sounds of sirens, the yells of men rushing around and the static of radios.
It was the mixture of noises that woke Mackenzie and she stared around her in confusion, her sleep befuddled mind not recognizing where she was for just a moment. Then a muttered moan and a heavy arm curled over her waist, reminded her.
She turned her head, staring at the picture he made in the orange glow that came in the window. He was so handsome, so sweet and gentle, so...orange?
"Gideon?” she hissed, nudging his arm to get him to release her. “Something's going on outside."
"It's outside and not in here,” he muttered, grumbling and drawing her back down and under him.
"Come on, Hawk, something's going on outside. I think something's on fire. Wake up!” She nudged him again, this time not so gently and with her elbow in his gut.
"Something was on fire in here too,” he growled, letting her go to rub at his gut where she'd elbowed him. He stared at the strange glow, Mac's outline shadowed by it. “Shit, something is on fire.” He grabbed for his jeans, struggling to pull them on.
Looking over her head, he laid his hands on her shoulders, watching as the flames licked the inky blackness of the sky. “That's the Exxon station over on Twelfth and Elm."
Mac l
ooked over her shoulder at him. “I've got to get over there,” she said, pushing away from him and reaching for her clothes. “Can you give me a ride?"
"Yeah, but I don't think it's going to be too safe over there. Do you know what would happen if the underground tanks went up?"
"It's all part and parcel of the job, Gideon.” She pulled her shirt over her head, stopping to lay her hand on his cheek. “But I appreciate you worrying."
"I can't help it,” he said, trying to grab her hand but she pulled away too quickly. “You've kind of grown on me."
"Ah, just like fungus, huh?” She laughed, reaching for her khakis and pulling them on. “Are you getting dressed?"
"Yeah, yeah. Nag, nag, nag. You try to give a woman a compliment and she just demands more from you.” He sighed heavily, watching the smile blossom on her beautiful face. “I'll get dressed on one condition."
"What's that?” she asked, not looking at him as she busily tucked her shirt into her pants.
"You move in with me."
* * * *
He slipped through the door to her apartment building, smiling easily at the woman who'd opened the door. “Thanks, forgot my keys again,” he said with a self-depreciating chuckle.
"You're welcome,” the older woman said, quickly moving toward the back of the elevator. He followed her on, ignoring how she seemed to move to the far corner of the elevator car, as far from him as she could, staring at the numbers that were changing slowly.
She scurried off when the door opened on her floor, sneaking a peek behind her as the doors started to close.
He laughed, enjoying the affect he had upon the old woman... Mackenzie's floor was next and he slipped off the elevator, walking the short distance to her door. The locks were a bit of a challenge, taking too much time to pick, making the nerves that fluttered in his stomach seem to lift up all at the same time.
When the last one clicked into place, he breathed a huge sigh. Then he turned the knob, pushing the door open with one finger. “Mackenzie Hunter,” he muttered. “May I come in?"
His head cocked to the side as if he were listening for a response. He smiled, taking a step through the doorway and closing it behind him. “Thank you so much, you're such a gracious host. Something to drink? Would you happen to have anything in a white wine?"
He wandered around the apartment, touching her things randomly, running a silk scarf through his burned hands. Most of the nerve endings were dead, but he could still feel a bit of the soft material. He brought it to his nose, breathing in the scent that clung to the fabric.
"Very nice,” he said quietly. “You have wonderful taste, Mackenzie."
Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, he reached out and slashed his arm across the top of her desk, sending her lap top and everything else on it crashing to the floor. “Fucking bitch!” he snarled. “Fucking nosy bitch!"
He tore the cushions from the couch, slashing at the pillows with a knife he took from her kitchen. Feathers flew around in the air, mixing with the broken shards of glass, and the dirt from the few plants she'd managed to keep alive.
His rampage continued on into her bedroom, the knife flashing into her bed, tearing apart material. He pulled fistfuls of clothing from her closet, ripping into it with the knife, pulling apart and tossing the shredded fabric. Bottles of perfume were broken, cds smashed, books ripped apart.
Finally, he stood in the midst of the destruction he had wrought and smiled. Then he pulled out his lighter.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eight
* * * *
She stared at him in the orange glow of the fire, almost stunned by his words. “Move in with you?” she echoed.
"Yeah, you know, share closet space, your toothbrush and mine hanging together in the bathroom, his and her towels?” He kissed her gently, almost as stunned as she seemed by his words. It had just slipped out before he knew what he was going to say. But he didn't regret it now. “So...” he urged.
"We've had one date, Gideon. It's kind of a stretch to go from one date to living together, isn't it?"
Hawk smiled at the hesitant sound in her voice. Okay, so she wanted him to convince her, he could do that. “Well, considering the mind blowing sex, the fact that we enjoy each other so much and the problem you have with constantly getting yourself into impossible situations, no, I don't think it's much of a stretch. Besides, wouldn't your family feel more at ease if you had a man in your life, a cop?"
"My family wouldn't be the one living with you,” she said, shaking her head. “You gotta do better than that, Hawk."
He sighed. “How about if you don't answer me now and think on it? But I wouldn't take too long, because you don't know how hard it is to hold off all those single women constantly throwing themselves at me.” He turned her around, smacking her on the ass with the flat of his palm. “Come on, woman, you have a story to get."
* * * *
The heat from the fire was oppressive even from three blocks away. Kenzie took a deep breath, gasping as the overheated air seemed to almost sear her lungs. She slipped under the blockade, sneaking behind one of the uniformed cops that were there to keep bystanders and news people back.
Hawk followed her, reaching out and grabbing her hand to pull her into an alley. “What the hell do you think you're doing?” he hissed, pulling on her.
"I'm getting the story,” she said, glancing around to see if anyone had seen them yet. “And if you don't let go of me, we're going to get caught."
"We should get caught. Those barricades are up there for a reason.” He started heading back only to turn when she yanked her arm out of his grasp.
"Okay, you go ahead. I've got a story to get, Gideon. It's my job.” She started toward the next block, pulling a small digital camera out of her purse.
Hawk drew a deep breath, trying to control his temper. “Mackenzie!” he called after her, jogging to catch up. “You can't do that. It's too damn dangerous.” He grabbed her arm again only to growl when she jerked away. “Don't make me have to arrest you."
"You wouldn't,” she said, her eyes narrowing.
"Yes, I would so don't push me.” He stood nose to nose with her, both unwilling to back down.
"You'd keep me from doing my job?"
"Who the hell do you think you are, Lois Lane? I'm not Superman, I can't fly down and save your ass every time you stick it into trouble."
"I have a job to do, Hawk. I'd never try to stop you from doing yours, give me the same consideration.” She started to turn only to feel his hand on her arm once more, this time holding her with a grip that she knew she'd never be able to break.
"Mackenzie Hunter, you are under arrest for disorderly conduct and resisting arrest, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law...” He glanced down at her as he started to pull her back toward the barricade and his car before he finished reading her the Miranda rights.
Kenzie felt a screech building in her chest only to be overwhelmed by something else, something that felt suspiciously like pain. She stopped fighting him, following him meekly and ducking under the barricade without being told, waiting while he flashed his badge at the cop standing there. She followed him through the growing crowd, sitting in the car when he opened the door. Crossing her arms over her chest, she sat there, staring straight ahead, her thoughts racing.
Hawk opened the door, glancing over at her before sliding behind the wheel. “Look Mac...” he began, only to stop when she turned a frosty cold glare at him.
"Am I under arrest?” she snapped.
He closed his eyes, and she watched as he took a couple of deep breaths before answering. “No. I couldn't let you get closer Mac, you have to understand that. It's way too dangerous."
"In other words, I'm supposed to sit back and let you do your job when it deals with drug king pins and cartels, and...and...henchmen with big guns, but you can't let me get the facts on a simple arson stor
y.” She let out a harsh sigh. “It's good to find this out now, before we actually got involved with each other."
"What's that supposed to mean? I think we got pretty involved last night.” He dropped his hand down on the steering wheel, jamming the key into the ignition with the other.
"We had sex. Sex doesn't make a relationship.” She turned her head, staring out the window. “Take me home please, or drop me off somewhere that I can catch a cab.” She refused to look at him, refused to see the expression on his face.
"Dammit woman, why do you have to be so stubborn?!"
"Stubborn?” she squeaked, twisting around to face him. “I'm stubborn? How would you feel if I threw a fit every time you had to go undercover? It's my job, Gideon. It's all I know and all I've ever wanted. You are keeping me from my job!” Her voice rose until she realized she was almost screaming, than she turned her head once again. “Just take me home!"
"Mac,” he began, then quit. “Okay, fine, have it your way then."
"Fine,” she echoed.
He drove her to her apartment, making record time as he squealed around corners and blew stoplights, pulling in to the parking garage and parking as close as he could to the entrance to her building. Getting out, he started toward her side of the car. She opened the door herself and got out, turning to look at him.
"Thank you for a lovely evening, you don't need to come up.” Her voice was very proper and cool, almost frigid. Then she turned on her heel and headed into the building.
Hawk started to follow her and then stopped. “To hell with it!” he growled, getting back into his car and slamming the door hard. “Women!"
* * * *
Mackenzie seethed all the way into her building and even as she started up the long flights of stairs toward her apartment. How dare he treat her that way? How dare he?!
"Did I stop him when he was meeting an informant? No-o-o. I knew he had a job to do and I smiled and let him do it. Masochistic pig. My job is just as important as his and I'm damn good at it. So what if I had a couple of problems recently. Everybody has off days,” she growled, slamming through the door onto her floor.