Before the End (Beyond Series Ultimate Glom Edition)

by Kit Rocha

  It fit all too well with what Hawk had told her about his father. “But you only have Hawk?”

  “Oh, they're all my children, more or less.” She smiled, but banked protective fury burned in her eyes. “We say it, and we mean it, for the most part. But I worry about him a little more than the rest. I always will.”

  “Right.” Jeni rubbed her hands on her jeans. “You probably have questions.”

  “Not so many.” Alya looked back out over the valley. “Hawk's been on his own for damn near twenty years now. So whatever has you so nervous, you should know I don't give a shit. All I care about is seeing him happy.”

  There was an unspoken question in there somewhere—or maybe Jeni only heard one because she expected it. “The O'Kanes have a reputation for casual,” she said carefully. “But I think people just don't understand. None of it is casual. Ever.”

  “Good, because neither is he.” Alya looked away, her lips tight, her eyes shuttered. “Hawk won't tell you this because he's loyal to a fault, but I was no kind of mother to him. I was too young, and then I was too broken. By the time I was strong enough to protect him, he didn't need it anymore, so no one's ever taken care of him. That's all I want, Jeni. Someone in his life who can take care of him.”

  The man she knew was an island, a rock who kept himself carefully apart from the rest of the O'Kanes—whether through preference or necessity or sheer force of habit. “I can try,” she offered, “but I can't make him let me.”

  “No,” Alya conceded. “He brought you here, though. That means something.”

  “I think so. I hope so.”

  “I know so.” Alya finally smiled. “You're the first one, honey. Ever.”

  The first woman he'd brought home, maybe, but Luna's words played over and over in her mind. I don't think anyone's seen him like this since— “There was someone else once.”

  “Someone—” Alya cut off with a sigh. “Who was it? Luna?”

  The easy answer, but it wasn't the whole truth. Luna's slip was a piece of the puzzle, one Hawk had laid out for her himself, back in Four. Not having you is bad. Not getting to keep you would be worse. “Don't worry, she didn't tell me anything private.”

  “I wish it was private, for his sake.” Alya gripped her shoulder. “Ask him, Jeni. You should know. Because it's not a pretty story, and he's the only one who doesn't come out of it looking like a villain—but that's never been how he saw it.”

  “I will.” It was a promise she could make, because it was as much for her as it was for Hawk. If she was going to wear his collar, belong to him, then they had to be able to talk about things that had hurt them. It was the only safe way to exist in that space between sex and control, desire and pain.

  “Good.” She ran her hand down to Jeni's and squeezed it. “Come on. I'll show you our setup for making medicine.”

  “Thanks, Alya.” Jeni lingered for a moment anyway, just in case. Her hesitation was rewarded when Hawk turned, spotted them, and lifted his hand to wave.

  She waved back, wishing they were back at the rally, hidden away in that little grove of trees. Sex was simple, easy. No matter how emotionally charged it was, in the end, it was about physical intimacy, giving and receiving pleasure.

  There was nothing simple or easy about confronting the past.

  She'd almost given up on Hawk when the pebble hit the guestroom window.

  Jeni slid from beneath the covers and tiptoed across the floor. When she parted the curtains, he grinned up at her, one eyebrow raised in teasing challenge.

  God help her, she couldn't resist that smile. She opened the window, wincing when it squeaked loudly, and stuck her head out. “You're late.”

  “I had to make sure the coast was clear.” His grin only got wider. “C'mon, Jeni. Sneak downstairs so I can steal you away.”

  There was no way she'd say no, and he knew it. She left the window open as she stripped off her nightgown and grabbed the sundress she'd laid out for the next morning.

  Carrying her shoes in one hand, she crept down the stairs, careful to avoid the one that creaked. The last thing she needed was to start a chain reaction of crying babies and Hawk's sleepy-eyed relatives spilling out of their bedrooms.

  He met her at the front door, holding it open as she slipped through and easing it shut in silence. His fingers brushed her shoulder and slid down as he leaned in close enough to whisper against her lips. “You'll be cold like this.”

  Was there anything more delicious than when he unbent enough to tease her? “No, I won't,” she whispered back. “You dragged me out of bed, so it's your job to keep me warm.”

  “I can do that.” His kiss was the barest caress, another tease. His lips found her chin next, then her jaw, and traced a slow, lazy path down her throat as he sank to one knee. Silently, he tugged one shoe from her grasp and held it for her.

  The night air had nothing to do with the goose bumps on her flesh as she slipped her feet into the flats. “I'm glad you came. I missed you.”

  “Nothing could keep me away.” Hawk caught her hand as he rose and twined their fingers together as thunder rumbled overhead. “Come on. I don't know how much time we have.”

  It didn't take Jeni long to figure out what he meant. In the middle of their sprint through a field, the sky opened up. Rain pelted them, unexpectedly warm but relentless. Unforgiving.

  They were drenched by the time Hawk pushed open the barn door and ushered her into its dry, dark refuge. Squeezing out her braid sent another torrent of water rushing down her arms, and Jeni bit her lip to hold back a laugh. “This is sexy,” she said as she turned. “We both look like drowned—”

  The words died on her tongue. Hawk didn't look waterlogged or bedraggled or anything else that would have been just and fair. He looked perfect, even with water dripping out of his hair and plastering his shirt to his chest.

  His gaze drifted down her body, lingering on all the places where her dress clung to her curves. “I'm not complaining,” he murmured, already reaching for her. “But we should get you out of this wet dress anyway. Just to be safe.”

  His hands burned where he touched her. “You didn't have to lure me out into the rain to get me naked, you know.”

  “I know.” He gathered the fabric at her hips and worked it up slowly. “But I like you like this. A little disheveled.”

  “Or a lot.” She spun out of his grip. “You're distracting me.”

  “Am I?” He caught her with a low laugh and dragged her against him so tightly that his erection pressed against her lower back. “From what?”

  His bold arousal shook her resolve. It would be easy to let it slide, to slip back into the pleasure and discovery they'd enjoyed the night before. But what Hawk wanted—what she wanted—was something beyond sex, and this was the only way to make that happen.

  She turned and looked up at him. “Why did you have to leave Six?”

  Hawk froze. His mouth pressed into a stern line and his brow furrowed, but after a moment he ran his fingers through his wet hair, shoving it back from his forehead. “Let's find some blankets. I don't want you catching a chill.”

  He led her deeper into the barn, pausing to gather a few blankets tossed over the dividers between stalls. He spread one over a low platform of hay bales and wrapped a second around her shoulders. “Do you want the long story or the short one?”

  “Whichever one matters to you.”

  “The long story, then.” He sat and tugged her down beside him. “Remember that farm I pointed out on the way in? The Anderson place?”

  Remembering the place did what the rain and chilly air couldn't, and Jeni shivered. “Yes.”

  “When I was...I don't know, nineteen or twenty? There was a drought that year, and Anderson's southern wheat field caught fire. We all had to go out and try to contain it, because it could have swept onto our land. Everyone was out there, men and women and any child old enough to carry a bucket.” He sighed. “And that's how I met her. Caroline. Anderson's seventh
wife.”

  It was the last, breathtaking piece of that puzzle. Suddenly, the whole awful story stretched out in front of Jeni like a movie, a thousand possibilities and eventualities playing out in her mind at once. “Oh.”

  “Oh,” he echoed. His lips curved into a wry, tired smile. “It's not unusual, you know. One of my elder brothers fell in love with my youngest stepmother. They never moved past longing looks and hand-holding, but my father found out and ran him off the farm.”

  Pain wreathed the words, the kind that clenched around the pit of Jeni's stomach and squeezed. “I'm sorry.”

  He wrapped one hand around hers. “You can probably figure out the rest. Caroline and I went way past hand-holding. Got away with it for almost a year. But when we were caught out…” Hawk trailed off with a shrug. “I tried to get her to run with me, but she was too damn scared. Scared we wouldn't make it, or that it would just make the punishment worse when Anderson finally got his hands on her.”

  Jeni would have bet all her money that the penalty for adultery—no matter the circumstances—was steep. “What happened to her?”

  “I don't know.” His voice roughened. “I mean, she's still over there. I see her sometimes, once or twice a year. But she stares through me like she doesn't even recognize me. They did something terrible to her. And it will always be my fault.”

  “Why? For the unforgivable sin of falling in love?” Jeni gripped his chin and turned his face to hers. “You lost your home. Do you blame her, or is that one on you, too?”

  His tiny smile broke her heart. “For a lot of years, I blamed Alya. I was cruel to her the day he drove me out. I knew how that bastard treated her, that he had hurt her and would keep hurting her. But I told her it was her fault, and she believed me.”

  “Well, I hope you've apologized to her for that. A lot.”

  “For the last fifteen years, give or take. Doesn't mend what broke.” He cupped her cheek, his touch soft. Almost tentative. “Now you know, Jeni. Why I move slow, why I have to be careful. When I'm not, people get hurt. And sometimes I'm sorry can't fix it.”

  There were so many conclusions she could draw from his revelation, so many things that fit—why it mattered to him that she wear his collar, a blatant symbol of ownership. Why every move he made was calibrated, calculated, as if he had to consider every angle before allowing himself to want something at all. Even why he'd been fixated on her involvement with Dallas and Lex, the two people with the power to turn him out of a sector for the second time in his life.

  Her heart ached for him, for the things he'd lost and the weight he still carried. She couldn't ease his pain, but there was one thing she could do, one thing she could give him.

  Trust.

  She took a deep breath, the sound almost lost under the thundering rain on the barn roof. “I want it now.”

  The thumb tracing back and forth across her cheek stilled. “The collar?”

  “The collar.”

  “Why?”

  So many reasons, but only one that mattered. “Because you trusted me enough to share this with me, even though it made you vulnerable.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “I told you, I've been hanging out with Noelle and Jas. Maybe that ink is supposed to mean that she belongs to him, but he's just as much hers. And that's what I want. To be yours as much as you're mine.”

  Her heart thumped painfully. She'd seen it before, all around the O'Kane compound, but she'd never felt it. Not like this. “I won't hurt you.”

  “I know.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Check my back pocket.”

  The wet denim clung to his skin. She worked her fingers into his pocket and closed them around warm, supple leather. “Oh.”

  “I brought it. Just in case.”

  Jeni pulled it free and studied it. It was simple black leather set with silver and a few glinting green jewels that looked like emeralds. In the center was a beautiful, delicately wrought Celtic tree, just like the one inked on Hawk's chest.

  It was gorgeous, and it was too much. “Are these real?” she asked, holding up the collar. “Hawk, I can't.”

  “Why not?” He took it from her, his large fingers deft as he worked the delicate clasp at the back. “What else am I supposed to spend all that fight night money on?”

  “Your family?”

  “They get most of it.” He paused with the collar open, waiting for her to lift her hair out of the way so he could wrap it around her throat. “Let me be selfish, just once.”

  She lifted her braid, and he fastened the leather around her throat. It fit snugly, hugging her skin without being tight enough to constrict. “A perfect fit,” she whispered.

  He rubbed his thumb over the silver tree. “It is selfish, you know.”

  “Because everyone will know.” His shirt was wet enough to be transparent, and Jeni traced the tattoo on his chest the same way he was touching the medallion at her throat. “They'll never have to wonder who this collar belongs to. Who I belong to.”

  “No, they'll never wonder.” His gaze finally met hers. “I'm learning to be okay with how badly I want that.”

  “You think you shouldn't?” She tugged his shirt up. “It's an animal desire, nothing civilized about it. But that doesn't make it wrong.”

  “So you O'Kanes keep telling me.” He lifted his arms so she could strip away his shirt, revealing hard muscles and vivid, elegant lines of ink.

  She completely lost her train of thought, but that was okay. All that really mattered was leaning in, her mouth on him, and tracing all those beautiful lines with her tongue.

  Hawk hissed in a breath, his head falling back as his eyes closed. But his hands were already moving, finding their way beneath the blankets to tug at her dress. She climbed into his lap as he pulled it up, and she shivered when the wet fabric rasped over her breasts, hardening her nipples to tight, aching points.

  He tossed her dress aside and bent his head. He closed his mouth around the tip of her breast, blazing hot on her chilled skin, all tongue and teeth until he sucked hard enough to make her hips buck and leave her shuddering above him.

  Jeni gripped his hair, his shoulders, anything to hold on, but it didn't matter. The storm outside was nothing compared to this one.

  “Jeni.” He groaned against her skin, his hands sliding down to grip her bare ass. “Fuck—”

  It was all the warning she got before he rose and laid her down on the blanket spread over the hay bales. Hawk sank to his knees between her legs, running his hands up the insides of her thighs to push them wide. He was on her before she could drag in another breath, that blazing mouth covering her pussy, his tongue thrusting deep.

  It should have been too fast, but she was primed for this. For weeks, months, she'd lived on some shaky edge where all it took was a word or a glance to coax thwarted arousal into biting, throbbing life. Ever since the first party where Lex had leaned over her, her skin as hot as the breath against her ear, and told her that Hawk was watching her.

  Now, with his tongue nudging her clit and his fingers biting into her thighs as thunder crashed outside, it felt like destiny. Fate. Two objects in different orbits drawing closer and closer together until they collided.

  He lifted his head, panting, and she felt his fingers on her. Parting her pussy lips, baring her completely to his gaze. He stared at her with such intensity, such possessive satisfaction, that she had to clench her fists in the blanket to keep from squirming away.

  Whatever had been chained up in him before, carefully, meticulously contained, had been set free. Like the storm outside, his lust raged, and she was at his mercy.

  Still watching her fiercely, he brushed his thumb over her clit. She lifted her hips, chasing the caress, and moaned as pleasure zipped up her spine.

  His moan joined hers, low and muffled as he bent his head again. His tongue replaced his thumb, wet and firm, lashing against her without mercy.

  Jeni tried to hold back a groan. It slipped out as a whimper, one s
he muffled with her hand. But Hawk growled against her—an unmistakable, wordless command—and she dropped her hand to the blanket.

  Then he touched her again, two fingers gliding over her sensitive flesh. She grabbed his other hand and held on tight as he worked his fingers into her in slow, maddening increments.

  More. Jeni tried to form the word, but all that came out was a strangled plea. Hawk must have understood, because he gave it to her—thrusting fingers, the delicious rasp of his tongue, gentle suction that turned rough when he drew her clit between his lips.

  He fucked her with his fingers and his mouth, searching for the right rhythm. Jeni helped him, riding his hand and his tongue until the tense heat began to unfurl around the edges and the first threads of bliss snaked through her.

  Her shocked cry echoed through the stillness of the barn, louder than the storm outside, but she didn't hold back. She couldn't, not when this was Hawk touching her, drinking in her pleasure as it wound tighter and tighter, holding her as the tension shattered into a mind-melting orgasm.

  He carried her through it, his touch gentling until she slumped back against the blanket, drained and dazed. His thumbs moved in slow, soothing strokes over her skin, coaxing her back to sanity. “Are you with me?”

  She struggled up onto her elbows. “You're still wearing pants.” Christ, she sounded as dizzy and giddy as she felt. “Unacceptable.”

  Hawk rose and tugged his belt open with a slow smile. “Are you ready for what happens when I'm not?”

  “Nope.” She inched back, making room for him on their makeshift bed. “Take 'em off anyway.”

  He did, kicking off his boots and then stripping off his pants. No more teasing, no more slow seduction. He came over her in a rush, his knees driving her legs wider, his broad shoulders and powerful chest blocking out the world. His cock slid against her, as hard and thick as she remembered, grinding against her clit.