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

by Gwyn McNamee

  A curse tumbles from his mouth before he grinds his teeth together and the muscle along his jaw ticks. His fingers loosen on my waist and his eyes open. He moves his hands back to the hem of my shirt and slowly pulls it up over my belly. I grab the shirt from him and yank it up and off, tossing it over the side of the bed and onto the floor.

  I’m utterly and completely naked, and as his eyes roam my body. The heat and appreciation I find in his gaze makes my heart race and need for him scream even harder. A growl slips from his lips before he surges up from the pillow and captures my right nipple in his warm, wet mouth, his dark morning stubble scraping against my sensitive breast.

  The palm of his hand finds my left breast and he tugs and tweaks that nipple in time with the assault of his mouth.

  His teeth graze along my flesh and I cry out, grinding down against his cock and clutching him to me. My nipples are direct line to my clit, and every tug on them sends a fluttering frenzy and rushing moisture between my legs.

  Delicious torture. That is what this is…torture.

  Finally, I can’t take it anymore; grasping his hair, I pull him back from my chest. Heavy-lidded eyes burning with desire meet mine, and he leans up to take my mouth in his. His kiss is soft but full of promise. He pulls away, lies down, and urges me toward the top of the bed.

  “Get up here. I need you to come for me.” He pulls me forward until my knees are on either side of his neck, my dripping cunt positioned directly over his face. Grasping the headboard for balance, I glance down at him and am not surprised in the least to find a satisfied grin on his face.

  “God, Dani, you are so fucking beautiful,” he professes before lightly kissing his way up my inner thigh, stopping just short of where I so desperately need him, only to repeat the process on the other side. “Absolutely perfect.”

  He slowly skims his fingertips along my thighs. I quiver and drop my head against the headboard. “Please, Savage!”

  You’re fucking KILLING me here!

  He chuckles and his warm breath fans across my mound, causing my hips to instinctively push forward, seeking his mouth. When his tongue finally slides across my aching clit, I cry out, grinding down against him, my entire existence now centered on that tiny pulsing spot.

  The glide and swirl of his tongue over and around my clit has my legs trembling, and I know it won’t take long for him to push me over the edge. When he slides his fingers into me, I clamp down and roll my hips in rhythm with his thrusting.

  I’m right.

  The orgasm slams into me like a freight train. My entire body spasms and I can barely hold myself up against the headboard as fireworks explode against my closed eyelids in time with the throbs of pleasure from my clit.

  When the orgasm subsides, my legs become useless and I sag against the headboard, practically smothering Savage under me. Too weak to even care, I shift back over his chest and slide down his body, only one thing on my mind.

  She slides slowly down my body. With the taste of her release still on my tongue, I capture her mouth, wrapping my arms around her back and dragging her against me until our bodies are practically one. Her breasts press into my chest and her nipples pebble against my skin as I grope the globes of her ass and squeeze them.

  My dick might explode.

  Pressed between our bodies, she grinds her hips against my cock and I almost come. It’s like I’m fifteen again, fooling around with Jessica Boswell under the bleachers at the high school football field.

  It’s been so long since someone but me touched me there, the instant her hand circles me, I’m going to blow.

  Don’t lose it, Savage.

  She pulls back from my mouth, pressing her lips to my neck and kissing, sucking, and licking her way across my chest.

  I close my eyes, relishing the touch of her lips and hot breath floating across my sensitive skin.

  Moving slowly down my body, she reaches my stomach, exploring every groove with her tongue. I’m wound so tight, I’m physically shaking trying to control my reaction to her touch.

  It’s incredible, and, for a brief moment, I’m able to forget I’m different than any other man, that this is different than every other time I’ve been with a woman in my life.

  But, as her hand slides down to the waistband of my pants, the racing in my heart changes nature, from thrilling and electrifying, to chilling and alarming.

  A cold sweat breaks out over my body and my cock deflates.

  She can’t know. What just happened?

  I quickly grab her wrist, stopping her just as she moves to slip her hand beneath the waistband.

  Her head jerks up, her eyes searching my face for an explanation. Hoping I can do a good job of concealing my fear, I pull her captured hand to my mouth, pressing my lips to the center of her palm and then offer her a what-I-hope-is-convincing grin.

  The question in her gaze is evident.

  Shit, say something.

  “This is about you, Danika, not me. Why don’t we make some breakfast?” The look of confusion on her face dissipates, but doesn’t completely disappear. She watches me intently, waiting for some further explanation. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  Let me change the subject. Please, don’t push this right now.

  My heart continues to race while she studies me for what feels like an eternity. Finally, she lets out a resigned sigh and climbs up to press a gentle kiss to my lips.

  “Starved,” she says before rolling off my body and climbing off the side of the bed. “I want to hop in the shower quick, though. Do you mind?”

  Oh, thank God.

  Shifting up onto my elbows, I watch her perfect ass shake as she walks toward the bathroom. She stops and turns back to me at the door, waiting for my answer.

  “No, I don’t mind. You shower and I’ll start on breakfast.”

  She smiles, and the moment the door clicks closed, I drop back onto the bed, pressing my palms into my eyes in frustration.

  What the fuck was that, Savage? A beautiful woman wants to touch your very hard cock and you have to stop her?

  The water starts running in the bathroom and I try to shake off the momentary lapse of sanity.

  Get your shit together, Savage.

  I grab my t-shirt and yank it on before getting in my chair and leaving the bedroom. Thinking about Danika naked and wet in my shower is going to do nothing to help my blue balls.

  Forcing myself to concentrate on putting together breakfast, I don’t even notice she’s done in the bathroom until I hear her soft footsteps on the wood floor of the living room ten minutes later. She appears at the entry to the kitchen in that damn tiny skirt and another one of my t-shirts.

  For reasons I can’t even begin to fathom, the fact she had to go into my closet to get it doesn’t upset me. In fact, knowing she feels comfortable enough to do that without asking actually makes me insanely happy.

  You have it bad!

  She moves into the kitchen and leans down against the center island. I grin at her and the smile she returns lights up her entire face. “Can I help?”

  “If you want to grab the coffee pot and some orange juice from the fridge, that would be great.”

  “On it,” she says, turning to the fridge and yanking the door open. I curse myself for not keeping the juice on the lowest shelf so she would have to bend over to get it.

  She meets me at the table and moans when she sees her plate piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. “Oh, my God, this looks so damn good! I’m starving.”

  “You’re hungover.”

  Glaring at me, she digs her fork into the eggs and takes an enormous bite, another moan slipping from her throat. It’s the same sound she makes when I have her pussy against my mouth and my dick hardens remembering this morning. I reach down and adjust it, discreetly, I hope, before returning to my plate.

  We eat in silence for a few minutes, interrupted only by an occasional distracting noise from Danika. She has no fucking clue what she is doing to me with
those little sounds.

  A shrill ring sounds and Danika looks up at me in confusion. It rings again and her eyes widen. “Shit, where’s my purse? That’s my cell.”

  “On the table by the front door.” She jumps from her chair and sprints out toward the living room. I hear her answer the phone and her muffled replies to whomever is on the other end of the line. She reappears with her phone in her hand a minute later and offers me an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry, that was one of my contacts for a story I am working on. I really needed to speak with him.”

  “What’s the story?” I ask, setting my silverware down on my empty plate.

  She hasn’t spoken much about her work, but I have been reading her articles religiously since the day she charged into my office. They’re good. She’s an excellent writer and investigator. She doesn’t back down from a difficult story, and she certainly isn’t afraid to write things some people may not want to hear. She has ethics, and, in this day and age, that’s something almost impossible to find. I do worry, though, that some of the topics she tackles could put her in hot water with some unsavory individuals.

  “Oh, just something I’ve been working on for a while. Not sure where it’s going, if anywhere, at this point. This contact is essential to my story, but he’s a bit squirrelly.”

  My heart jumps and unease overtakes me.

  “What do you mean squirrelly?”

  Sighing heavily, she leans her forearms onto the table and looks up at me, her annoyance apparent. “I can’t really get into it, but basically he knows his life is in danger by talking to me, and even though I swore I would protect his identity, he has been waffling about getting me the information I need. I have to go meet with him tonight.”

  “Life is in danger? What kind of shit have you gotten yourself into? You aren’t going alone, are you?” I ask, the anger in my voice a little more prevalent than I intended.

  She glares at me and shoves away from the table. “I’m doing my job. I can take care of myself, you know.”

  Like you did last night?

  Thankfully, I manage to rein in the desire to point out her state less than twelve hours ago. “I’m sure you can, but is it really safe for you to be meeting with this guy in person? Alone?”

  She yanks her plate from the table and storms over to me, her lips pressed together into a fierce scowl. Stopping next to me, she reaches out and grabs my plate, turning to the kitchen without a word.

  Yikes.

  She’s fuming mad.

  I think we’re having our first fight.

  The plates clank in the dishwasher and she slams the door shut, finally looking over at me again. “I managed to make it through the past three years at my job unscathed. I don’t need you second-guessing me and acting like my goddamn father.”

  Acting like her father? Is that really what I’m doing? Maybe I am overstepping my bounds here.

  Her dad died when she was so young, she’s had to take care of herself for a long time. Maybe I’m not giving her enough credit.

  “Look,” I say, holding my hands up in resignation, “I’m sorry if it came across that way. I’m just worried about you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  She closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them again, the anger is gone, replaced by something I hope is affection. She circles the counter and walks over to me. Leaning down, she places a quick kiss on my lips before backing away.

  “I’ll be fine. I have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She disappears around the corner and the front door opens and clicks shut. Dropping my head into my hands, I groan.

  This morning has already been filled with more drama and mindfucks than I’ve faced in a long time. I’ve apparently completely forgotten how to be with a woman without having a mental breakdown or pissing her off. This is not a good way to start things with Danika.

  It’s like the tiny amount of hope I built is already caving in around me.

  “So, what the hell happened?”

  It isn’t a question. It’s more of a whiny demand for information from Caroline. I’d barely set foot in my apartment when my phone rang. Ignoring Caroline is useless. Plus, she has a key to my place, and if I hadn’t answered, she would probably show up here demanding the rundown of last night’s events if I hadn’t picked up her call.

  “Well, I went to the club…”

  “Did you wear that mini-skirt?”

  Thank GOD, yes! Wearing that skirt was probably the best decision I made last night. It certainly made for easy access and, hell, I will never complain about that.

  “Yes, now do you want to know what happened or not?” I drop my purse on the couch and head for my bedroom to get changed for my meeting with Paul. He better show up. I don’t have time for his wishy-washy promises and zero results.

  She sighs and I know she’s rolling her eyes at me. “Ugh, yes, of course, I just wanted to know what you were wearing. Very important information, you know.”

  “Well, I wore the skirt and that sparkly top.” Which I just realized I left at Savage’s when I ran out of there this morning.

  Caroline whistles. “Damn, you were really going for it.”

  “I was, and, it worked. I spent the night with him.”

  Her squeal is so high-pitched and shockingly loud, I have to hold the phone away from my ear so I don’t lose my hearing.

  “Was it totally amazing? Was his cock as beautiful in person as it was in the videos?”

  I wish I knew.

  I turn on speakerphone and drop it on the bed so I can change while talking. “Uh, yeah, it was.”

  Shit.

  I hate lying, but she wouldn’t understand. I’m not sure I understand, but I’m not going to complain after what he did to me.

  FUCK, he has an amazing mouth. And a man who only worries about my pleasure is certainly something new and intriguing.

  “You don’t sound very excited.”

  I hate that she knows me so well, and that I’m such a shitty liar. This calls for my best dodging skills. “I’m just in the middle of something, Care. I have to change and go meet a source and I don’t have much time.”

  “Fine, but call me when you’re done. I want a detailed play-by-play. You know I live vicariously through your escapades, and after all the shit you and Savage have gone through to finally get here, I’m entitled to some deets.”

  Now I’m the one rolling my eyes while I pull out a pair of jeans and yank them on. “Okay, I’ll call you later.”

  By the time I’m changed and on my way to meet Paul, I’m already fifteen minutes late.

  Shit, shit, shit. I hope he’s still there.

  He chose the meeting place and Louis Armstrong Park is another ten minutes from me. When he’s already so nervous about what he’s doing, keeping him waiting is the last thing I want to do, but when I try to call him to tell him I’m running late, it goes straight to voicemail. I try several more times before I finally pull into the parking lot and take off toward the remote corner of the park he indicated.

  Please be here. Please be here.

  I arrive a full half-hour after our meeting time and don’t see him anywhere. In fact, I don’t see anyone. This area of the park is deserted at this hour, and I can see why he would choose it as a safe location. The chances of us being seen together here are slim.

  My heart sinks. I fucking blew it! All because I wanted to blow Savage…and that didn’t even happen!

  I’m not prepared to sacrifice my career to put his worries at ease. He overreacted this morning and, for a minute, I was tempted to storm out still pissed at him. But, the genuine concern in his eyes broke my will to remain defiant and I can’t really say I blame him for being apprehensive about me meeting a mysterious (to him) source.

  He doesn’t know Paul. I do. I trust him. Paul is the guy; I know he can get me what I need. He’s been working for Abello for ten years in various capacities. As far as I can tell, he
never dirties his hands with anything too bad; Abello has a few right-hand goons who take care of his truly filthy work. But Paul is trusted, and that’s exactly what I need, someone on the inside.

  A loud cough off to my left draws my attention to a stand of trees. I wander over there, trying to look as casual as possible just in case anyone is watching. Paul is leaning against a large tree, smoking a cigarette and looking around nervously.

  “You’re late.”

  “I’m sorry. I got hung up. I tried to call.”

  He drops the butt and smashes it under his boot. “Turned my phone off. Don’t want to be tracked.”

  Tracked?

  “You think he can do that?” A shrug is his only response. Silence lingers between us and I finally break it. The less time we are out here, the safer we will be. “Do you have something for me?” He was supposed to be looking for contracts, messages, anything that would confirm meetings and deals between Dunne and Abello.

  Please have it. I really fucking need this.

  He looks to the ground briefly and he shakes his head. “No, couldn’t get into the office without being noticed.”

  “Shit.” Why did he need to meet with me if he doesn’t have anything? I glance around again, suddenly wary of being out here alone with a member of the mob. “Um, so why did you want to meet?”

  He paces in front of me and pulls a slip of paper from his jacket pocket, holding it out to me. I reach out and grab it.

  It’s a Post-it note…with my name on it.

  My throat constricts and my knees wobble slightly. “Where did you get this?”

  His concern-laced eyes find mine. “It was on the floor outside the office. It must have been stuck to something and fallen off.”

  “Christ…did you hear anyone mention my name?”

  He shakes his head but the worry in his gaze tells me it doesn’t matter. The fact my name is there at all is enough for me to essentially have a target on my back.

  “So, you don’t know what he suspects or if he knows I’m looking into him?”