Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (The Hawke Family Book 1)

by Gwyn McNamee

  How long do I wait here, alone, before I order dinner or go home? Shit, being stood up right now would be a real kick to the nuts.

  I reach for my glass, put it to my lips, and take another long pull at the red liquid, thankful I have it to keep me company. In my peripheral vision, I see a flash of blonde and turn to find Danika making her way toward my table. Her long hair is twisted up and pulled back, away from her face, and she’s decked out in a fantastic knee-length black dress with a plunging neckline that shows just a tasteful hint of cleavage.

  My lips twitch up in the first smile I’ve managed all night, and I try, probably unsuccessfully, to hide my delight at her arrival. Jumping up and down like a middle school kid who just received his first kiss would probably not be a huge turn on for her right now.

  “Ms. Eriksson, I am so glad you could join me this evening.”

  She returns my smile, drops her purse on the bench next to her, and settles in the seat across from me.

  “Thank you for the invitation,” she replies, somewhat coolly.

  My smile fades at her tone, but she’s here, so I’ll consider that a win.

  Michael appears at the table and gives me a knowing grin. “Ma’am, would you like some Chianti?” He presents the bottle to her and she nods, glancing over the table at me.

  The moment our eyes meet, she blushes and shifts in her seat, fidgeting with the linen napkin on the top of the table. Throwing her my best panty-dropping smile, I’m helpless to keep myself from chuckling when her blush deepens and spreads down her neck and into her cleavage.

  And just what is causing that blush, Danika?

  She’s nervous.

  Good.

  That means I affect her just as much as she affects me.

  And affect me she does. I’m forced to reach down as inconspicuously as possible to adjust my throbbing cock.

  Less than a fucking minute with this woman and I am already hard as granite. This could be a very long dinner.

  Michael retreats from the table.

  She clears her throat, barely glancing up at me before looking back to her hands while I take another sip of wine. “Thank you for the flowers. I have to admit, I was surprised to hear from you, and certainly don’t deserve them after the way I acted in your office the other day.”

  I almost spit out my wine. An apology?

  She doesn’t seem the type to apologize for anything. That I’m getting one tells me it’s a nudge in the right direction.

  “You mean when you stormed in like hell on wheels and tore me a new asshole?” Her head snaps up and I grin at her, making sure she understands I’m just messing with her. “Relax. You didn’t offend me. In fact, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the last week.”

  Obsessing might be a more accurate term.

  “Really?” She shifts forward in her chair, her eyes never leaving mine. I’m glad she’s apparently gotten over her initial reservation. “Thinking about ways to get back at me for my horrible behavior?” She picks up her glass and tilts it back.

  I grin and lean forward across the table, close enough so I’m sure she’ll be the only one able to hear me.

  “No, thinking about how much I want my face buried between your legs and my tongue in your pussy.”

  I sputter, and the wine I’m about to swallow sprays across the table, barely missing Savage’s smug face. He settles back into his seat, laughing as I cough and try to regain some semblance of control.

  “You all right?” he asks, his right eyebrow quirking up in a way that makes me want to climb across the table to ride him and smack him simultaneously.

  Shit. This is definitely not what I was expecting when I got his dinner invitation.

  I was sure he was baiting me just to get me here so he could convince me to leave him and the club alone. And maybe to tempt me more with his sinful smile and come-hither bedroom eyes.

  “Yes,” I say, clearing my throat one last time and taking a sip of water as nonchalantly and confidently as I can. “I’m just fine.”

  Lie.

  I am most definitely not fine. How could I possibly be fine while looking at this man? His arms bulge under his fitted, perfectly-tailored suit jacket, and I suck my bottom lip under my teeth to keep from moaning. A handsome, muscular man in a well-fitted suit is fucking porn for me.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shock you.”

  Yeah, right.

  I roll my eyes at him and take another drink of my wine. “Bullshit, that’s exactly what you meant to do. I bet you get a real kick out of fucking with women like that.”

  He chuckles and takes another drink of his wine. “No,” he says with a smirk, “only you. And I wasn’t fucking with you. I’m dead serious. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. You got under my skin.”

  He says the last part with such sincerity, I’m forced to rein in my smartass comeback.

  Is this guy for real?

  I study his face as he holds my gaze. His strong jaw is covered in dark stubble, setting off his cerulean blue eyes, and his lightly tanned skin gives him an almost exotic look. He must have women throwing themselves at his feet, especially in a club like his. He probably fucks a new girl every day of the week.

  PUSSY PEDDLER! Don’t forget who he is and what he does!

  Just because Nora defended him doesn’t mean I have to forget his profession.

  “While I appreciate the compliment, Savage, I have to be honest when I tell you I’m not the least bit surprised to hear your motive for asking me here.”

  He looks surprised. “What motive is that?”

  I scoff and roll my eyes at him. “To fuck me.”

  He bursts out laughing, throwing his head back while his whole body shakes. When he looks at me again, his eyes twinkle with amusement. I have to bite my lip again to stop the smile that tries to creep out. He’s so damn sexy when he laughs like that, and it goes straight to my clit.

  “Danika, I did not invite you here to try to fuck you. You asked me why I had been thinking about you, and I answered you, truthfully. I’ll always do my best to respond honestly to everything you ask, but that doesn’t mean my motives in inviting you here were not pure.”

  “Pure? I doubt you know the meaning of the word.” He flinches slightly at my retort, and I cringe inwardly.

  Okay, maybe that was a little harsh.

  He searches my face, contemplating something before he replies.

  “Did you speak with your sister?”

  Okay, hadn’t expected him to go there after I just insulted him…again.

  “Yeah, actually, she showed up at my apartment the day after I came to see you.”

  “You two talked?”

  I nod, and he watches me, waiting for me to elaborate.

  “Look, she told me she spoke with you, so thank you for getting her to come talk to me.”

  Being beholden to him for anything irks me, but after chasing Nora for weeks, he was the one who finally got her to actually stop avoiding me. I have to give him credit for that, at least.

  “You’re welcome. I can only imagine how worried you were for her. If I didn’t hear from my sisters for a couple weeks, I would be worried, too.”

  “You have sisters?” I hadn’t intended that to come out so coarse, but for some reason, the thought of a strip club owner having sisters seems unthinkable.

  He grins and sips his wine. “Yeah, I have three younger sisters and one younger brother.”

  “And they know what you do for a living?”

  Damn, there I go sounding like a judgmental bitch again.

  He doesn’t take the bait, barely reacting to my snide comment. “Yes, they know, and so does my mother.”

  I scowl at him. “And they are okay with it?”

  Before he can answer, the waiter returns and asks if we’re ready to order. I scramble to open my menu and review it. Glancing up at Savage, I see he doesn’t even bother to open his. He must come here a lot.

  �
�Everything looks so good. What do you recommend?” I ask the waiter.

  “If you don’t mind, I would love to order for you,” Savage interjects. “I eat here all the time and I think I know what you might enjoy.”

  I eye him skeptically for a moment before closing my menu and handing it to the waiter. Letting him make the decision for me feels like giving in to him somehow and I’ve already done that just by coming here tonight. Still, I have a feeling he may be right about knowing exactly what I want.

  “Good, Michael, will both have the fra diavolo.”

  “Very good, Mr. Hawke,” he says, retrieving Savage’s menu and backing away from the table.

  I haven’t looked away from Savage once as I wait for an answer to my last question.

  “My family understands that my business is just that, a business. I opened my first bar, Hawkeye’s Pub, after college, and now, eight years later, I have several bars, restaurants, and the club. The club seemed like a logical step a few years back, and I took it. I run it tight and I keep it legit. I don’t involve myself with my girls, and they know they will be gone immediately if I find out anything is going on behind the scenes.”

  Doesn’t involve himself with the girls? Does that mean he doesn’t sleep with them? Was Nora right?

  The question is on the tip of my tongue but, with some effort, I manage to bite it back. I really need to rein in the bitchiness tonight.

  “Well, it certainly sounds like your run the club differently than most, but I still can’t imagine having a son, or a brother, running a strip club. You have to admit, it’s a little seedy.”

  He smirks and leans back. “I guess you’re right. I just hope you can put aside what I do for a living and will make up your mind about what kind of man I am based on facts, not prejudices.”

  Shit. That was a real chastisement. I must be acting like more of a bitch than I thought.

  I drop my gaze to my wine glass momentarily before I look back at him, unwavering.

  “I will be the first to admit that I may have misjudged you. After talking with Nora, I know you treat your employees well and everything you told me is true.”

  A pleased grin spreads across his face. “And what did you find out when you researched me?”

  I try to hide my surprise but sputter momentarily trying to answer him, “Uh, I…what makes you think I researched you?”

  “Because I did the same thing, and you’re a reporter. Frankly, I would be disappointed if you hadn’t done some research on the scumbag your sister was shaking her ass and tits for.”

  Laughter bubbles up and I cover my mouth with my hand. I watch Savage glance down at my chest and shift in his seat.

  He’s uncomfortable. Good. It’s only fair he be in the same position I am.

  “I’m sorry I said that,” I say, my face no doubt reddening in my embarrassment. “I did research you, but I couldn’t find very much information. You seem to keep a pretty low profile for someone in your business.”

  He grins at my observation but offers no explanation for his mysterious ability to stay out of the papers.

  I’ve never seen anything like it. There are articles about his father that mention Savage and his siblings when he was a child—crap, now I remember the sisters being referenced—including quite a few from the weeks following his father’s death in the ring. But, as an adult, other than mentions of the opening of his restaurants and the club and a few other business dealings, there was nada. It’s as if he disappeared from public view and intentionally stayed that way.

  The need to dig and probe further has been eating away at me since I hit the dead end, but I don’t think it would be appropriate to do that here at dinner. Especially not when I’ve already insulted him many, many times in the few hours we’ve spent together.

  Wait, did he say he did research on me?

  “You researched me?”

  He chuckles and picks up his wine glass, swirling the maroon liquid around and around. I can’t tear my eyes away from his strong hand and long fingers wrapped around the stem.

  Fuck. Even his hands are orgasmically beautiful.

  Flashes of him doing things—dirty, nasty, sinful things—with those hands race through my mind, and my clit throbs just imagining his touch. I cross my legs under the table, pressing my thighs together as tightly as I can in a vain attempt to ease my need. There’s no doubt in my mind I’m blushing, and Savage’s focus on my cleavage assures me I’m correct.

  Arrogant prick knows he’s causing this and is getting off on it.

  “Yes, I researched you. I like to know all I can about people who come storming into my office with murder in their eyes.”

  “Murder? Oh, come on, I wasn’t that bad!”

  He’s such a drama queen!

  His eyebrow quirks up and the corner of his mouth moves into a sexy half-smirk. “Weren’t you?”

  Was I?

  Thinking back, maybe I was a bit overzealous in my advocacy on behalf of Nora, but I never would have hurt him. At least, not without his permission. Just thinking about digging my teeth into the side of his neck and shoulder while he pounds into me has me shifting uncomfortably again and chugging half my glass of water.

  I take a cleansing breath before I even bother trying to speak again. “Savage, I’m sorry…”

  His smile fades and he leans forward, looking me directly in the eye and holding me captive with his blue gaze. “Danika, stop apologizing. I told you, if I was offended by anything you did or said, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now.”

  A flood of relief washes over me.

  I nod my understanding but, truthfully, the fact that nothing I have said has offended him is a bit of a mind-fuck. It makes me wonder what it would take to actually insult him and how he got such a thick skin.

  The fact that he did research on me is a little disconcerting, too. It’s not that I have anything to hide, but a man like Savage Hawke knowing things about me, things I didn’t divulge, makes me a little shaky. “So, what did you find out in your digging?”

  “Well,” he says, setting down his glass and leaning back into his seat, “your father was a cop and died in the line of duty when you were twelve. Now, it’s just you, Nora, and your mother, who lives in Harahan.”

  I bet he even knows our social security numbers.

  “Stalker, much?” I ask with a smirk. He grins back, and I wish I had brought an extra thong with me tonight. Sitting in wet panties with a throbbing clit is worse than medieval torture. I would much rather be stretched out on a rack right now than sitting across from Savage practically dripping with need. Sometimes, my libido can be such an inconvenient bitch.

  “You graduated with your bachelor’s in journalism from Loyola and almost immediately went to work at the Times.”

  “All that information is very easy to find. I would have expected a deeper probe from you.”

  Savage’s eyes widen slightly and he drops his head back, roaring with laughter. My skin heats, and I bite my tongue to prevent further sexual innuendos from slipping out unbidden.

  When he finally recovers, he leans his elbows on the table and locks his gaze with mine. “Oh, Danika, believe me, I always ensure a very deep probing.”

  Fuck.

  I completely lose it, dropping my face into my hands in a fruitless attempt to hide my beet-red face and bone-deep embarrassment. Savage is something else, that’s for sure. His response only endears him to me while making me even more aware of my constant verbal diarrhea, which only seems to happen around him.

  Thankfully, before he can say anything else, our food arrives. I’m able to down the rest of my glass of water while our plates are set on the table.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you right now, Mr. Hawke?” the waiter asks after refilling our wine glasses.

  “No, Michael, thank you.”

  Michael disappears and I’m left staring at a plate of fra diavolo with linguine and shrimp piled high. I grab my fork and twist it in
the pasta, trying to get a manageable bite so I don’t end up shoveling dangling pasta and spraying red sauce all over myself.

  Just as I am about to slide my first bite into my mouth, Savage clears his throat. I look up at him and melt under his wicked grin.

  “I hope you like things spicy.”

  You have no fucking idea, Savage. No idea.

  Our dessert arrives and we both dig in, my hard cock throbbing when she moans at her first bite of tiramisu. She wraps her lips around her fork and pulls it out slowly, her eyes closed and head tilted slightly back. “Oh, my God, this is absolutely amazing.”

  She’s doing it intentionally. She has to be. No woman can be this overtly sexual without trying.

  I clear my throat and take a sip of water to wet my suddenly parched throat. “I’m glad you like it.”

  Dinner has been both exhilarating and excruciating. Every word out of her mouth has me more convinced she’s absofuckinglutely perfect for me. She’s brilliant, sarcastic, funny—even when she isn’t trying to be—and sexy as hell. Watching her lips while she eats and talks is like watching porn two feet in front of me.

  The constant hard-on I’ve had for the last two hours will definitely need some attention later, but it’s worth it. Asking Danika to dinner is the best decision I’ve ever made—even if my cock might not currently agree. It’s like I stepped back in time to freshman year of high school when every look, smile, or giggle from a girl had me sporting wood. Under any other circumstances, I might be embarrassed by my body’s reaction to her, but I’m not. I just wish there were a way to control my raging hard-on so I could make it through dessert a bit easier.

  Three bottles of wine aren’t helping me keep my desires in check. I’ve barely been able to restrain myself from pulling her onto my lap and letting her ride me right here in Angelo’s. I’ve never been into public sex, but with her, I can’t even imagine the restraint it would require to sit next to her in a car all the way home before getting her naked and plunging into her.

  Danika drains the last of the wine from her glass and sets it on the table before looking around the restaurant. I follow her gaze and realize the rest of the place has emptied out; we’re the only table left.