HAWK (Lords of Carnage MC)

by Daphne Loveling

  “I know,” I tell him. And I do. In spite of it all, I’ve never felt safer in my life than I do when I’m with Hawk. It’s all I want. He’s all I want.

  “I’ve been fighting this for a while now,” he continues. “I’ve been telling myself I didn’t deserve you. That I needed to stay away from you. But it turns out I can’t.” He pulls me closer, until the heat of his skin is radiating off him like my own personal sun. “I’m in love with you, Samantha,” he growls. “I don’t want to pull you into this life if it’s not what you want. It’s dangerous sometimes. It’s not the easiest path. But I can’t go any longer without telling you. I want you with me. If you’ll have me.”

  It’s the most romantic damn thing I’ve ever heard.

  “I love you, Hawk,” I whisper, as my eyes fill with tears. A burbling laugh escapes my throat. “I remember the first time I met you, how I made fun of your name.”

  “Yeah,” he grins wickedly. “And remember what I said in response?”

  My cheeks redden. “You said I…” But before I can continue, Hawk’s lips come down on mine, firm and insistent. His tongue flicks against my lips, and I draw in a sharp breath and open mine for him. My arms go around his neck of their own power, my skin already electric at his touch. I know what he can do to me. I know what’s about to happen.

  His hands run up under my shirt, rough against the skin of my back. They’re strong, demanding. In control. His fingers expertly flick open my bra, and in one fluid motion, I’m naked from the waist up, everything that was covering me in a heap on the floor. I throw my head back and arch toward him, wanting his mouth on my skin. My nipples grow taut.

  “Samantha,” he rasps. He pulls me on top of him so I’m straddling him on the bed, my already-soaking mound pressing against the growing bulge in his jeans. I grind myself against him. “Fuck,” he groans. His mouth slides down the skin of my throat, burning it with kisses, and then captures one needful bud in his mouth. I moan as the zing of pleasure shoots through me, and grind harder against his length, impatient already.

  My hands clutch at his shoulders, my legs going around his waist. There’s too much fabric between us, I want it gone but I’m already so wild with desire I can’t think straight. I whimper as his mouth closes on my other nipple and he begins to suck and lick. “Hawk!” I gasp. “Oh, God, yes!”

  He teases me for a little longer, and then pushes me back down on the bed. He stands and pulls off his T-shirt and his jeans, his eyes a darkening storm. “You’re not naked enough,” he growls. My eyes not leaving his, I unbutton my jeans and slip them down over my hips with my panties, kicking them off the side of the bed. Above me, Hawk grunts his approval, then takes hold of his large, hard shaft. He slowly begins to stroke it as he gazes down at me. I watch him do it, lust consuming me, and bite my lower lip.

  “Fuck,” he hisses as he looks at me. “You have no idea how much I wanted to bite that lower lip the first time I met you.”

  I tilt my head down and stare at him through my lashes, biting it harder.

  “You’re gonna pay for teasing me like that,” he warns.

  “Oh yeah?” I challenge. “Do your best.”

  He’s on the bed so fast I let out a little shriek of laughter that turns to a moan when he pulls me toward him and draws one nipple into his mouth again. He sucks them slowly, one at a time, chuckling at my whimpers of need. His lips leave my breasts and begin to work their way down my body. I throw my head back and wait, barely daring to breathe as the ache between my thighs grows more intense. I spread my legs for him, gasping as his thumb grazes over my slick nub. I cry out softly and arch toward him.

  “I should torture you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against the skin of my thigh. “I should pin you here, so you know how close I am, and not give you what you want.”

  “No,” I whisper. “Hawk, please.”

  “You didn’t take very long to break,” he says. “How am I gonna make you pay when you give up so soon?”

  “Hawk!” I beg. “Please, make me come. I need you.” I buck my hips forward toward his mouth, and he laughs softly and gives me what I want.

  The first lap of his tongue is so sweet I almost cry, it feels so good. He begins to lick me slowly, so slowly, knowing exactly where the line is for me between pleasure and agony. I moan his name, my legs opening wider, and it’s already starting, I’m already climbing higher and higher, rocketing toward something that’s so powerful it’s almost frightening. My whole body is tense as he continues to lick and swirl around the spot that he knows will send me over the edge. Finally, when it feels like every muscle in my body has gone rigid, he plunges his tongue deep inside me and then laps long and deliberately as I scream his name and the most intense orgasm of my life shatters through my entire body.

  The waves are still ebbing through me when I feel Hawk’s strong hands lifting me up. He flips me over onto all fours before I know what’s happening and positions himself between my legs. “I need you,” he growls. It’s not a question.

  “Yes,” I say breathlessly. I feel the heat of his cock sliding against my still-sensitive folds and let out a loud moan, closing my eyes as he sinks himself inside me. Hawk’s in no mood to take his time now, and begins thrusting hard and fast, deeper and deeper every time we crash together. I grip the sheets, crying out as my pleasure begins to mount again. The velvet heat of him sliding against my puffy lips is so exquisite, so perfect, that before long I know I’m about to come again. I cry out to him and he answers me. “Yes, baby. Sam, I’m so close, baby, I can feel you ready for me. Come with me, baby. Come with me now!”

  “Oh, yes… God!” I scream, shuddering with the force of it as I clench around him. Hawk drives himself into me once more and goes stiff as he explodes inside me with a roar.

  I’m still quaking and struggling for breath when I feel Hawk pull out of me and gather me into his arms. He kisses me long, and slow, both of us panting.

  “Holy crap,” I finally gasp.

  “By the way,” he tells me between breaths. “I told you so.”

  “Told me what?” I’m confused.

  “The first time I met you. I said you were gonna like my name a lot better when you were screaming it with my head between your legs.” He grins at me cockily. “I wasn’t wrong, apparently.”

  I sigh in mock exasperation, even though I want to burst out laughing. “Seriously. Did you set up this whole elaborate plot just so you could get me into bed and prove yourself right?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

  Hawk snorts softly, and leans down to brush my lips with his. “Nope. But you gotta admit, we could have saved ourselves a lot of time and trouble that first night if we’d just ditched the wedding reception and gone off to test my theory.”

  I lean into his hand and kiss his palm. “I know this sounds crazy, considering everything we went through to get here,” I whisper. “But I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.”

  Later, as we lie back against the pillows in each other’s arms, Hawk tells me about the visit he had earlier from Anita’s brother. I listen in shocked silence as I hear that Anita is dead, from a heroin overdose. Hawk’s face constricts as he talks about Connor’s being handed off to Child Protective Services, and what that probably means for this little boy who’s already had such a hard life, and who just lost his mother.

  And then, Hawk asks me a question. It isn’t anything I’ve ever thought about doing, but as soon as he suggests it, I know it’s absolutely the right decision. When he’s finished talking, I don’t even hesitate. I just say yes.

  “This is a pretty big thing you’d be signing up for,” he tells me. His eyes are dark and serious. “It’s only temporary. But are you sure?”

  I nod. It’s a big step, I know. Probably this is crazy for us to take on, especially so close to the beginning of our relationship. But just the fact that Hawk is asking me to do it with him tells me everything I need to know about whether it’s right.

  We’ll take every day as it
comes. We’ll struggle, I’m sure. But somehow I know it’s what I want. What we want.

  Epilogue

  Hawk

  “Connor?” Sam says, kneeling down to the little boy. “Do you want to go see some puppies?”

  From my vantage point on the couch, I watch as Connor looks at Samantha with wide, uncomprehending eyes.

  “Puppies,” Sam tries again. “Like your stuffed puppy.” She points to the plush dog Connor is clutching against his chest. It was the first toy we got him when we took him home with us. Connor’s been holding on to that thing like it’s a life preserver ever since.

  Connor’s been here with us for about two weeks now. We’re his foster home until Child Protective Services tells us otherwise. So far, so good, I guess, though it’s been a little rough at times. We’ve managed to feed him, and take care of his needs. But he still seems pretty withdrawn, and a little afraid of us. It’s breaking Sam’s heart — although she doesn’t let him see that.

  The process to take him in with us was a lot more complicated than I thought it would be, and for a while I wasn’t sure if we were going to manage to convince CPS to let us foster him. Since Sam and I hadn’t actually gone through the formal process to be foster parents, the agency was pretty reluctant to consider us as potential caretakers for Connor. Things were looking pretty bleak, until Connor’s CPS caseworker got hold of Anita’s brother Tommy. Tommy told her I was a friend of the family, and that Anita would have wanted me to take Connor if she was still here to make the decision.

  According to the caseworker’s records, Connor’s a little over two years old. Old enough that he should be talking more than he is, according to Sam’s internet research. But so far, all he’s done is nod or shake his head when we ask him questions. At least he seems to understand us when we talk to him. It’s hard to know what kind of delays he might have, with him having Anita for a mom. From what I witnessed on the rare occasions that I saw them together, she didn’t interact with him much.

  In the past day or two, Connor’s seemed like maybe he’s finally starting to come out of his shell a little. So Sam had the idea of bringing him out to Geno’s farm to look at the litter of puppies his Shepherd mix just had. It seems clear from the confused way he looks at Sam when she asks him about it that he doesn’t quite grasp what a puppy is. But hey, what little boy doesn’t like soft, furry things, right? So we buckle Connor into his car seat and drive out to Geno’s farm in Sam’s new car.

  Geno and his old lady Carmen are both home when we get out to the farm. Carmen takes us out to the barn, where their dog Molly is with her pups. Inside, it smells like hay, manure, and animals. Somehow it’s always struck me as a clean smell, even though I guess that doesn’t make a lot of sense. It smells uncomplicated. Soothing.

  Molly and her litter are in an old refrigerator box that’s been laid on its side and had the top two-thirds cut off it so the lip is just tall enough the pups can’t get out. Old blankets line the box, and inside, seven wriggling puppies squirm around and bite at their siblings’ ears and paws.

  I’m carrying Connor, and I kneel down and set him on the ground beside me. His eyes are wide and astonished as he takes in the scene before him. Sam picks up one of the puppies and holds it out so Connor can touch it. Gingerly, the little boy reaches out a tentative hand and pats the little animal’s fur, then pulls it back quickly.

  “See? It’s a nice doggy,” Sam says in a soothing voice. “His fur is soft, isn’t it?” Sam pets the squirming puppy to show Connor. “We pet him very gently because he’s just a little baby.”

  Connor reaches out his hand again and pets him like Sam showed him to. He looks up at her questioningly, and she smiles and nods at him. Suddenly, he does a little half-hop and squeaks with excitement.

  “That’s the mommy dog, right there,” Sam says, pointing. “These are all her little babies. Aren’t they cute?” Connor squeals again, a little louder this time.

  “Doggy!” he says with a wide, grin, pointing toward Molly.

  Her eyes fill with tears. It’s literally the first word he’s spoken since we got him. “That’s right, sweetheart,” she whispers, glancing at me. “It’s a doggy.”

  We stay in the barn for a long time, letting Connor watch and pet the puppies. He’s almost unbelievably gentle with them. Finally, we decide it’s time to let Carmen and Geno get on with their day.

  “You know,” Carmen says with a twinkle in her eye as we leave the barn, “We’re going to be looking for homes for most of the puppies. You have first dibs if you want one.” She smiles at Connor. “A dog is a boy’s best friend, after all.”

  Sam looks up at me, the beginnings of a smile on her face. “We’ll think about it,” I say firmly. Hell, we’ve only had Connor for two weeks, and now we’re already talking about getting a dog? This whole domestic bliss thing is happening a little fast for me, even though it was my idea to take Connor in. Hell, next thing you know we’ll be putting up a white picket fence.

  “Okay, Connor, we’re going to go back home now,” Samantha tells him. “We’ll come back very soon and visit the doggies again.”

  “Pet the doggy!” he says again, joyously.

  Sam laughs. “That’s right. Wave goodbye to the doggies and Carmen!”

  Amazingly, he holds up his hand and flaps it in their direction, smiling shyly.

  “Bye-bye, Connor!” Carmen says as she waves back.

  “Do you want to walk, buddy?” I ask him as we leave the barn. “Or do you want me to carry you?”

  Connor looks down at the ground for a minute, then up at me.

  Then he holds out his arms.

  “Okay, buddy,” I say, trying to ignore the sudden rasp in my throat. “Carry it is.”

  On the way home, neither of us says much. Sam turns on some bouncy kid’s music she found online for Connor to listen to. A couple of times she sniffles quietly into a tissue.

  “You okay?” I finally ask, reaching out for her hand.

  “Yeah.” She glances back at Connor, who’s fallen fast asleep in the back, and then shoots me a tearful, tremulous smile. “I think maybe he will be, too.”

  I know Connor isn’t my brother’s kid. I know there’s no connection to Liam beyond the same hot mess of a girl that just never managed to get herself together. But even so, somehow I still feel like the universe has given me a second chance. A way to do something good, to atone for my brother’s death.

  Sam seems to understand this.

  That’s one of the countless things I love about her.

  We haven’t talked about adopting Connor, either. Not exactly. But I think that’s the direction we’re heading in. It’s early days, of course. There’s no guarantee we’d even be chosen to be his new parents. But when I think about the future, the hazy image in my mind is me, Sam, and Connor. And maybe another little boy or girl.

  If it’s a boy, I hope his name is Liam.

  Sometimes, late at night, I lie awake and try to figure out whether life is just fucking with me. Everything seems too perfect right now. Sure, the war with the Spiders is far from over — that’s a story for another day. But right here, right now, I feel like I can conquer the world and face anything that comes with Samantha by my side. She’s the woman I want to be with, for the rest of my life.

  And for once, what I want is exactly what I have.

  THE END

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  Daphne

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  About Daphne Loveling

  Daphne Loveling is a small-town girl who moved to the big city as a young adult in search of adventure. She lives in the American Midwest with her fabulous husband and the two cats who own them.

  Someday, she hopes to retire to a sandy beach and continue writing with sand between her toes.

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  Contact her via email at daphne@daphneloveling.com

  Books by Daphne Loveling