by Mia Dymond
The hard length of him stretched against her stomach and suddenly she couldn’t get close enough.
She moved her hands from his chest, feeling her way down his abdomen and across the carved indentions of his obliques. Desperate to feel what she already knew to be pure temptation, she tucked her fingers into the top of his jeans, making sure to press herself against his thighs as she grazed the tender skin beneath.
Hawke released a muffled curse and reached between them to pop the top button of his pants as he nipped the top of her shoulder. Rachel let a smile split her lips, encouraged by his obvious desperation. She pushed his hand to the side and moved hers inside his pants to squeeze the bulge between his legs. He groaned and thrust his hips into her touch.
His reaction set her body ablaze and her breathing became labored.
“Hawke,” she panted, “touch me.”
He lifted his lips from the top of her shoulder and moved them to the tender skin behind her ear. “Tell me where, sweetheart.”
His lips continued their assault on the pleasure point behind her ear and she stood, melting like a stick of butter, attempting to decide which body part he should touch. A decision she couldn’t possibly make at this particular moment.
“Somewhere,” she said over a sigh.
He gave a low, husky laugh and moved his hands from her midsection to slide each spaghetti strap of her gown down each shoulder until he exposed the tops of her breasts. Hawke placed a soft kiss on her lips, cupped a breast in each hand, and then licked over the swollen rise of flesh. Rachel gasped, pressed herself further into his touch, and tightened her hold on his shaft. Determined to make him as crazy as she, Rachel stroked the length from top to bottom and back again.
A low, feral growl left his lips and he released her long enough to unwrap her fingers. “Easy, honey.”
He placed her hands back against his chest and then eased the silk from her breasts until her nipples stood at attention, begging for his touch.
“Beautiful,” he moaned.
Rachel gasped when he bent and took one nipple in his mouth. Pure brazen wanton desire took control of her body as his tongue swirled over the tender flesh. She began to tingle between her legs. She wound her fingers through his hair and urged him to take more of her. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and her head spun until she thought she’d leave the ground. And then the tingling turned into vibration.
Rachel couldn’t have stopped if her life depended on it. Her body and the song it now sang belonged to Hawke.
He placed a tender kiss on the peak of one nipple then took the other between his lips. The vibration now became a full-fledged hum and all she could do was hold on. Several short whimpers left her lips and she tightened her hold on his hair. Fireworks exploded behind her eyelids and she struggled to breathe.
Hawke raised his head and gave her a very heated, testosterone-injected smile. “Did you just …?”
Much too satisfied to deny her reaction, she released a contented sigh. “Oh yes I did.”
Before he could answer, the sound of someone clearing their throat broke the tender moment. Rachel’s eyes widened and time stood still. She glanced down at her now naked, extremely sensitive breasts and then back up at Hawke.
Hawke pulled her flush against him. “I’ll be right there, Max.”
Rachel released a whoosh of air from her lungs. Only Max. This time. Still somewhat hidden in the shadow of Hawke’s body, she replaced the straps of her nightgown on her shoulders and eased her breasts back inside the silk.
“You know,” she said into the stillness, “only ten percent of women ever experience that particular sensation. You’re very talented.”
Hawke laughed softly and planted a kiss in the valley of her cleavage. “Come to the hotel with me,” he said against her heated skin.
For the first time in a very long time, Rachel wanted to kick caution in the teeth. Her body screamed for her to agree. Her heart assured her it was safe with Hawke. And then the mad scientist in her brain took control.
“Not this time,” she whispered.
Hawke lifted his head. “No?”
She shook her head and struggled for the right words. “I’m just not ready.”
His lips twitched. “I’m pretty sure you’re more than ready.”
Rachel gave a half laugh. “Yes, well, I think we both know that’s true, but I’m not sure spending the night with you is a good idea.”
He placed one hand on her hip and gently tapped her temple with his free hand. “Whatever you’re fighting in there is extremely annoying.”
“Tell me about it,” she mumbled.
“Okay, so if you won’t put me out of my misery tonight, will you at least let me take you to the hospital gala?”
Rachel frowned. “How do you know about that?”
“I have a ticket.”
“How do you know I do?”
He cocked his head to one side but didn’t answer.
“Max,” she murmured.
Hawke drew her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “Say yes, Rachel.”
She gave him a gentle smile and traced the edge of his jaw with her index finger. “Yes.”
He placed his lips to hers in one last, lingering kiss and then released her to scoop the coat from the ground. “I’ll return this for you. Do you want Max to follow you home?”
She sat in the driver’s seat, tempted to tell him she’d just follow him to the hotel. “No, thank you, Hawke.”
Hawke tossed the coat over one shoulder. “Call me if you change your mind.”
She frowned. “About the gala?”
His low, husky snicker filled the heated distance between them just before he answered.
“No.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rachel adjusted the thin strap of her emerald gown one more time before pronouncing herself ready. Her hand shook slightly as she pushed a wayward tendril of hair off the side of her face. Good grief, you’ve been to a thousand of these things. Just not with Jaydon Hawke. When she agreed to go with him, she had no idea she would be this much of a basketcase. Truth be told, she should be relaxed. Especially after last night’s romp in the trees.
She took one last look in the mirror and slid the mascara wand over her eyelashes. Flinching at the shrill tone of the gate buzzer, she groaned as the wand connected with her right eyeball.
“Oh...ow!” She blinked several times and then pushed the intercom button to speak. “Hawke?”
His sexy rasp reached through the box and tickled her nerve endings. “Am I early?”
“No, come on up.” She rattled off the security code and waited on pins and needles until he rang the doorbell.
Taking a deep breath, she poised herself and opened the door. Only to find herself totally unpoised immediately.
The sight of Hawke lounged against the doorframe weakened her knees. The black jacket he wore showcased his broad shoulders and toned arms, the white shirt beneath was unbuttoned to the waistband of his pants to reveal his tempting, tanned, sculpted chest and steel-plated abs. Rachel wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. No tie. Her eyes continued downward to his tailored pants fastened around his lean waist, cupping his package and daring her to unwrap him.
Hawke snickered and pushed himself off the frame. “Rachel, if you really want to go to this thing, we better leave now. Otherwise, we won’t make it. Not the way you’re looking at me.”
Her cheeks burned. “Oh, sorry.”
He grinned and ran his knuckles down her arm. “Don’t be sorry, we could just stay here.”
As good as he looked, she wasn’t convinced she was ready for those repercussions. Rolling her tongue back inside her mouth, she pulled herself together.
“After I spent three hours in front of a mirror?” she teased, “I don’t think so, Handsome.”
He placed his hand to the small of her back as they left the house and approached the limo, only losing contact long enough to open the door. As she bent to e
nter the limo, she remembered too late about the barely-there neckline of her gown and glanced at the two passengers already seated.
“Hey, Rachel,” Max greeted huskily from behind his trademark tinted lenses.
“Hi, Max.” Although a little embarrassed, she fought the urge to giggle. Even though Max had already seen the girls, she was somewhat comforted by the glasses.
Greg nodded as Hawke slid next to her. “You look great.”
“Thank you.” Almost immediately, Hawke took her hand and pressed it against the top of his thigh.
Rachel’s head spun as Greg explained the tactical procedure of their entrance at the convention center during the short ride. There was so much planning involved in everything concerning Hawke.
When they arrived, she watched Max unfold his burly frame from the car first and scan the area before he signaled for Greg. Hawke stepped out next and instantly, flashbulbs popped in the dark night, echoing like fireworks off the downtown skyscrapers. With Max positioned firmly in front of him, Hawke extended a hand and gently pulled her from the seat. Rachel drew a deep breath. This is it. Now I’ve officially become arm candy.
She glanced at Hawke and for a split second considered ducking back into the car. But when his incredible smile lit his face, running away was the furthest thought from her mind. She balanced one bare, smooth, long leg on the pavement and stood, holding on to his hand for dear life. As if he sensed her uncertainty, Hawke drew her next to him and tucked her to his side.
Once inside the banquet room, Rachel glanced over her shoulder to see Max pull the heavy oak doors closed behind them and position himself just inside the doorway. Rachel tossed him a thankful smile then led Hawke to their assigned table where Cameron and Sean were already seated.
Cameron’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as Hawke pulled out Rachel’s chair. Rachel gave her a smug wouldn’t-you-like-to-know smile.
Hawke leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. “I’ll be right back.” He glanced at Sean. “C’mon, Pirelli, it’s showtime.”
Rachel nodded and then glanced around the room. How many people had seen that kiss?
“So, Rachel.” Cameron leaned forward, braced her elbows on the table, braided her fingers and rested her chin on top of her hands. “What gives with you and Music Man?”
Rachel grinned. “Not what you think. We just spent a little more time together.”
Cameron gave her head a slight nod and for a moment Rachel thought Cameron might actually accept her explanation. She should’ve known better.
Cameron’s lips suddenly split into a mischievous grin. “How was it?”
“Cameron!” Rachel bounced her gaze nervously around the room. “Lower your voice.”
“How was it?” Cameron whispered.
“Nothing happened.” Unless she counted the most incredible, fully-clothed orgasm after the fire. Rachel scanned the room until her gaze froze on Hawke’s long, lean form. His powerful, well-muscled body moved with easy grace as he mingled, the rich outlines of his shoulders straining against the fabric of his jacket. Even in a crowd, the heat that emanated from his body beckoned her. Her mouth watered as she watched him carry himself with a commanding air of self-confidence.
“Rachel, really.” Cameron handed her a napkin. “Just do him.”
Rachel snapped herself out of lustful appreciation. “I can’t.”
Cameron waved a hand in the air. “I know it’s been awhile for you, but you probably haven’t forgotten how.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “No, Cameron, you know how I feel about meaningless sex.”
“And your reasoning is one I’ll never understand.”
Rachel sighed. “Me either.”
Cameron tapped a fingernail against her wine glass. “The sparks that fly between the two of you are fiery, sister. I don’t think sex with Jaydon Hawke would even come close to meaningless.”
“You know what I mean.”
Cameron tilted her head to one side and wrapped a curl around one finger. “You’ll want more than once with him.”
“That too.” Rachel shrugged and made the one admission she couldn’t deny any longer. “I don’t want just sex from him.”
Cameron released the curl then started the process again. “You want a relationship.”
“Yes.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Oh come on, Cameron, we’re talking about Jaydon Hawke, mega superstar, first class sex symbol of the world.”
Cameron couldn’t be swayed. “Who happens to be your escort to the Diablo Memorial Hospital Gala in Diablo, Arizona.”
“There weren’t any groupies available.”
Cameron giggled. “Nice try. I don’t think so.”
Rachel opted to change the subject. “You know, I think Max likes you,” she said nonchalantly.
Cameron winked. “You get an ‘A’ for effort. Don’t think you can escape the subject.”
“I’m just trying to be realistic. What could he possibly see in me? I’m boring to men like him, Cameron. I work long hours and then go home. To sleep. Any time I have left for socializing is for things like this. B-O-R-I-N-G,” she huffed.
Cameron shifted her eyes Hawke’s direction and made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Um, yeah, probably not. He’s wearing a very obvious I’m-going-to-have-you look.”
Rachel glanced back at him and felt her thighs heat. Cameron was exactly right.
Cameron nudged Rachel’s elbow. “And your expression is so take me, you couldn’t wipe it off if you tried.”
Hawke shook hands with the mayor and then he and Sean walked back toward the table. Although now very hot and bothered, Rachel giggled, suddenly relaxed by Cameron’s gentle teasing. “You have such a way with words.”
Cameron shrugged. “Hey, I call it as I see it.”
“See what?” Sean asked as he returned to Cameron’s side. “Come on.” Cameron stood and took his hand. “I’ll show you.”
Rachel watched as Cameron led Sean to the dance floor, wiggling her hips at him the whole way. She sighed softly, envious of Cameron’s confidence.
“Would you like to dance?” Hawke asked, interrupting her thoughts.
A dark shadow clouded the table before she could answer and her response stalled on her tongue when she looked up at their unexpected female guest.
The familiar honey-dipped drawl made Rachel’s skin crawl. “Hello, Rachel. Fancy seeing you out and about on the town.”
Rachel struggled to keep her voice steady. “Nice to see you, Monica.”
“I see you’re entertaining again this evening.”
“Hawke is a guest speaker.”
“So I heard.”
Monica paused, obviously waiting for Rachel’s response. Rachel twisted her napkin around her fingers instead. She wouldn’t give Monica the satisfaction.
“Well,” Monica said finally, “you two have a nice evening. It was nice to see you again Mr. Hawke.”
Monica didn’t wait to hear Hawke’s response and stalked away in a heavy fog of perfume. Rachel resisted the urge to fan herself.
Rachel heard Hawke clear his throat before he spoke. She stifled a giggle at her next thought. Probably to get better air flow.
“Let me guess," he drawled, "she’s the chairman of the hospital board.”
Rachel twisted the napkin tighter. “Not this time. She’s just on the fundraising committee.”
“Is she always this polite to you?”
Rachel smirked at Hawke’s sarcasm. “That was for your benefit. She rarely speaks to me.”
“She’s jealous.”
Her hands stilled. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Hawke untangled the napkin from her fingers, threw it onto the table and stood.
“Enough.” His dark eyes pierced hers as he lifted her by the arm. Pulling her from the chair, he pushed her through the crowd and out onto a corner balcony without explanation.
“Now.” His tone was soft but strong. “You an
d I need to get a few things straight.”
Still stunned by his dominance, Rachel only stared as he continued.
“I don’t know who convinced you that intelligence is not beautiful but they were a damn fool. And you’re an even bigger fool if you believe something so ludicrous.”
“Hawke–“
He silenced her with one hand. “I’m not done. Not only are you insanely beautiful on the outside, Rachel, your insides are amazing. Your ability to compose yourself is outstanding. Your heart is big enough for at least three people, and your dedication to your work and your friends is incredible. Now, ask me again why Monica is jealous.”
Rachel folded her arms and shifted to one side. “You rock stars really are dramatic.”
Hawke released a husky laugh. “See? You have this uncanny sense of humor and I, for one, think it makes you hot.”
“Hawke, you don’t really know me.”
“I do know one thing,” he began easily. “A little bird told me about the charity you support and the time you devote to it.”
“A big, burly bird or a little, blonde bird?”
“Never mind.” He dismissed her concern with another smirk. “I’d really like to get to know you.”
Despite her best effort, her smile slipped. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“Yes, I would,” he insisted, inching closer.
Rachel felt her hair tickle her shoulders as she shook her head. “Sometimes people aren’t who you think.” This was something she knew for a fact. No way would she let him convince her otherwise. “And sometimes it’s better to believe what you think rather than know the truth.”
“Not necessarily.”
“You don’t think so?”
Hawke leaned back against the balcony railing. “Do you believe everything you’ve heard about me?”
“I haven’t heard much,” she mumbled.
His soft laugh wrapped her like a warm blanket. “Surely me and my gaggle of groupies have crossed your home page at one time or another.”
She had to grin. “I did read something like that.”