by Kit Rocha
She looked so serious that he cupped her cheek. “I want to protect you, not save you. As for the rest... I have some jealousy in me, Jeni. I've got a lot of things that aren't so civilized going on. But—”
“No one else is you.” She laid her hand on his thigh and leaned in until she was almost close enough to kiss. “And you're the one I want. Remember that.”
Oh, those words felt good. So good that he dropped his hand back to her bare leg and stroked his fingers up the inside of her thigh. “You didn't let me finish. I was gonna say jealousy can't cut so deep when you stop fighting all those uncivilized things and embrace them.”
“That's all you have to do?” she whispered. “Just let go?”
He rubbed his thumb in a slow circle. Just a little higher and he'd be touching her pussy—and possibly defiling the back of Gia's limo.
Probably not the first time it had happened.
He brushed his lips over hers and smiled. “Knowing you're mine helps.”
Her lips parted—and so did her legs. “Hawk…”
The car coasted to a stop. The driver's door creaked open. Jeni didn't jerk away, so Hawk stayed right where he was, sliding his thumb back and forth as her lips trembled against his.
The door next to him opened, and Jeni smiled. “Come on.” The words feathered over his mouth. “I bet Gia's dying to meet you.”
At this point, he was pretty fucking curious about her, too.
Hawk eased away from Jeni and slid from the car. The driver was holding the door but staring straight ahead, as quietly functional as a piece of furniture. Hawk reached out to help Jeni from the car, then let her draw him toward the ornate front door of the sprawling brick building.
The man who opened the door was huge, bigger than any of the O'Kanes, and dressed in a fucking tuxedo, of all things. He bowed his head wordlessly and ushered them into—
Actually, Hawk didn't know what to call the room they were waved into. It didn't seem to have any purpose short of giving new guests a place to stand while they gawked. And there was plenty to gawk at. The stone floors were covered with thick, woven rugs. A goddamn chandelier hung above his head, the glittering light refracting off crystals in a dizzying waste of electricity, considering the current power crisis.
A staircase curved toward a balcony that lined the second floor. Gilded mirrors sparkled on the walls next to art that looked fucking expensive, and the spaces in between doors held potted plants and vases on carved wooden stands.
Hawk was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open.
“Jeni, darling.” A tall, gorgeous brunette who had to be Gia stepped through one of the doors, pausing as if she knew that the carved doorway framed her like another piece of art. Her crimson skirt was slit just as high as Jeni's, but the top of her dress was a leather corset that looked more like armor, and even in heels damn near as tall as Jeni's, somehow she managed to cross the room in a swaying prowl.
She stopped in front of Jeni and reached up to stroke the leather wrapped around her throat. Her fingertips lingered over the silver tree, and Hawk felt a swell of entirely uncivilized satisfaction as Gia stroked the symbol that made Jeni his.
“So it's true,” Gia murmured. “Congratulations, love.”
“It's true.” Jeni framed her friend's face with both hands as a brilliant smile curved her lips. “It's good to see you.”
“You too, sweetheart. We've missed you.” Gia brushed a quick kiss to Jeni's lips before turning to study Hawk. Her gaze started with his face and drifted down with a level of casual, shameless appraisal that brought heat to Hawk's cheeks. When her gaze slid back up, she noticed—and laughed. “Oh, bless you, Jeni. He blushes.”
She sounded so delighted, Hawk resolved himself to an evening of being mildly scandalized. He might be out of his depth here, but Jeni seemed right at home—and that gave him an opportunity to see a new side of her.
Jeni, casually glamorous. Maybe even Jeni as she'd been before she left Eden.
Gia was still watching him like she was waiting for him to melt into the floor from embarrassment. He summoned a challenging stare instead—maybe not Bren at his most intimidating, but at least Jasper on a good day. “I only blush when people are staring at me like I'm for dinner.”
Gia's perfectly arched eyebrows went up. “You should warn him not to tempt me.”
“He can handle you.” Jeni dropped one hand to the small of his back, stroking lightly through his shirt. “Hawk, this is Gia. She grew up with Ace and Jared, so she had to get scrappy.”
Hawk didn't know what the proper greeting was when you were meeting someone who had diamonds dripping from her ears. Thrusting out his hand seemed like the safest bet. “Nice to meet you, Gia.”
She clasped his hand, and even though she had smooth skin and slender fingers, her grip was hard enough to feel like a test—or a challenge. “Welcome to my home.”
Oh, there were layers to this one. The word my rolled off her tongue like it was her favorite word in the whole goddamn language. She'd met him covered with jewels and a dress that may as well have been a weapon. This was her territory, the place where she ruled as undisputed queen…
And Jeni had once been one of the subjects kneeling at her feet.
Hawk tightened his grip just a little, to see what she'd do. The corner of her mouth twitched upwards, and she glanced at Jeni. “I think you've found a diamond in the rough, darling.”
“My diamond,” Jeni emphasized with rueful amusement. “Are we having dinner on the terrace tonight?”
“I thought one of the upstairs alcoves might be cozier.” Gia tilted her head toward the stairs. Hawk released her and settled his hand at the small of Jeni's back, ignoring the way Gia smiled at the gesture before turning to lead them upstairs. “Dinner should be ready. The cook made all your favorites.”
Her heels clicked on the hardwood as she started up. “She didn't.”
“Mmm. She must have bribed someone to get salmon on such short notice.” Gia laughed softly. “She wouldn't even give me the full menu, so I expect she bribed a lot of someones.”
The cozier room Gia had mentioned turned out to be almost as big as the warehouse where the O'Kanes held their fight nights. Another chandelier graced the high ceiling, shining down on the couches and circular ottomans scattered throughout the room, along with a huge, polished piano that gleamed in the glittering light.
Two walls were lined with mirrors, creating the impression that the room went on forever. The other two walls were inset with alcoves, all with the curtains drawn back. Some held tables or seating arrangements, and others had only plush cushions and pillows scattered on their carpeted floors.
All the leather and crystal and art in the world couldn't hide the fact that it was a party room, just like the one Dallas presided over from a sagging leather couch. A room where party meant debauchery of the highest order.
Gia led them to one of the alcoves with a sleek black leather booth that curved in a half circle around a table sporting candles, wineglasses, and three elaborate place settings.
Jeni slid onto the leather and moved over, then patted the seat beside her. “It's not as sinful as it looks.” she murmured. “It's just easier to have a conversation here than at the monstrous table that seats forty-eight.”
It was intimate, though. The angle hid the back of the booth from the rest of the room unless you were right in front of it, and a flick of the wrist could swing the curtain into place and remove even that visibility. And the shadows were deep enough that Gia wouldn't see him slip his hand under the table to squeeze Jeni's knee lightly. “Nothing wrong with sinful, though.”
She smiled and unfolded her napkin into her lap, lingering to brush his hand.
Gia sat across from Hawk and reached for the bottle of wine chilling in a bucket in the middle of the table. “I hope you don't mind that I had them keep things simple tonight, Hawk. I wanted a chance to talk without servers coming in and out endlessly, but that means a simple affai
r. We'll have to do for ourselves.”
He'd wager money that his idea of simple and hers weren't even within shouting distance of one another. “I grew up on a farm in Sector Six. Doing for myself is pretty much the status quo.”
“A farm boy. Good Lord.” Gia filled Jeni's glass. “Now I think you and Ace are just competing to ruin my life.”
Jeni raised one eyebrow. “Don't tell me you've run through all the pretty, wide-eyed boys in the sector already.”
“It's not like there were that many to start with.” Gia leaned across the table to pour wine into the glass in front of Hawk. “What do you think?”
None of his coping strategies for dealing with the O'Kane women were going to work on Gia. She wasn't a pestering younger sister or a friend. She was a wolf, sizing him up to see if he was a respected adversary or prey.
Not so different from how most of the men in the gang had treated him during those first weeks. So he told her the same thing he would have told Ace. “I'm just glad you think I'm pretty.”
“She's teasing you.” Jeni leaned over and kissed his jaw. “It's Gia's specialty.”
“And he's putting up with it,” Gia replied with a smile. “You'll do, Hawk. You'll do just fine.”
Something sparked in her eyes, a fire that went beyond casual interest. And Hawk realized that Gia wasn't a wolf stalking her prey. She was a guard dog with one sweet, helpless little lamb. If he didn't prove to her tonight that he could take care of Jeni, she'd be even fiercer than Lex and Dallas. She wouldn't have bonds of brotherhood and ink holding her back. She'd come for him and tear him to pieces.
Which could make her the greatest threat to his fragile new relationship—or his greatest ally. Because she clearly knew Jeni better than he did, maybe better than anyone. No doubt she knew all the things Jeni wanted, and all the things she needed.
If Hawk asked nice, she might tell him.
Hell, if he asked real nice, maybe she'd show him.
Chapter Ten
The wine was going to her head.
Everything about the dinner went past delicious and straight into sumptuous—from the delicately glazed fish to the creamy rice and oak-aged chardonnay. Positively exquisite, and Jeni could barely taste any of it. She was too focused on the man beside her, and the subtle but distinct tension brewing between him and Gia.
It was almost as intoxicating as the wine, and even more provocative, because it was unpredictable. Wine was easy. Drink another glass, get a little fuzzier, a little freer. But this…
It could go nowhere—or everywhere.
Hawk was smiling, his eyes alight with amusement, and Jeni struggled to keep her mind on the story she was telling. “So anyway, the guy has tons of money he could invest, but he only speaks French.”
“And I only speak Spanish. And Italian. And some Russian and German, I suppose…” Gia trailed off and wrinkled her nose. “But the only French I know is one very dirty joke.”
Hawk frowned. “Where the hell do you find someone who only speaks French?”
“North.” Gia refilled her glass from the second bottle of wine and rolled her eyes. “He made an absolute fortune with…something. Now I can't even remember what it was. Do you, Jeni?”
“Mining. This big operation, just him and his brothers.” Jeni tipped her glass toward Gia, who poured the rest of the second bottle into it. “So I came up with this brilliant plan—I'd just learn. What's the big deal, right? I had three days to get it done.”
Hawk tugged on a lock of her hair. “You were going to learn a whole language in three days?”
“Oh, she learned a lot of it. She knew tons of words.” Gia tapped the side of Jeni's head lightly. “This little brain of hers is a wizard at memorizing things. She can probably still read French. But when she tried to pronounce it…”
“It was a disaster.” Jeni's cheeks heated as she recalled trying to stumble her way through the simplest of conversations. “Neither of us could understand a goddamn thing the other was saying. We were communicating with notes when Gia stepped in.”
“There is one universal language,” Gia murmured. She stroked a finger down to curl another lock of Jeni's hair around her finger, and the embarrassed heat in Jeni's cheeks turned into something else entirely. “He was actually sweet once I got him on his knees. Especially when he saw the flogger. Begging is downright poetic in French.”
“She's being modest. She had him crying for his maman—and loving every second of it.” Hawk was watching her with a warm, lazy smile, and Jeni cleared her throat. “So he bankrolled the entire expansion, and Gia paid him back in record time. With interest.”
“Naturally.” Gia sighed wistfully. “Business was good in those days. Everything in Eden was so placidly dull. Sneaking out here to enjoy fine wine, good conversation, and a little mild perversity was practically a rite of passage for anyone who wanted to be someone.”
Hawk tugged at Jeni's hair again, but beneath the table his other hand found the slit in her dress and eased the fabric aside. “Only mild perversity? That's disappointing.”
“Maybe I have a different definition of mild than you do,” Gia replied, running the backs of her fingers over one of Jeni's flushed cheeks. “Or maybe not. Does he tease you terribly, Jeni?”
She gulped the rest of her wine, then looked at Hawk. He stared back at her, his expression as tight as his hand on her leg, laden with unspoken command.
Answer her.
She couldn't look away as she obeyed. “Sometimes,” she whispered. “If I get too greedy.”
“So all the time?” Gia smiled fondly as she glanced at Hawk. “Ace talked to me, you know.”
“Oh?” Hawk's earlier unease had vanished. Something about the silent undertones to their conversation tonight had grounded him, and it was more than just Gia putting him at ease.
The darkly confident Hawk who'd flipped her onto her stomach and fucked her breathless had returned.
And Gia could tell. “He thought you might need some guidance, like Cruz did in the early days. Someone to show you how good it can be to put a sweet, trusting little angel on her knees. Or over yours.” Gia's voice dropped to a husky whisper as she stroked Jeni's flushed cheek again. “But that's not what you need at all. You know exactly what you want.”
Hawk's fingers slipped up Jeni's inner thigh. “I want her.”
Jeni's heart thumped harder. It would be a strange sensation for most people, she supposed, listening to a conversation that was about them but not for them. A discussion that had everything to do with their needs and desires, but didn't require their input, not yet.
For her, it was like the wine. It flowed through her, warming places that even Hawk's touch couldn't reach.
Gia touched the collar at Jeni's throat. “You already have her. So tell us what you really want, Hawk.”
No, Gia wouldn't be like Ace, blunt and confrontational, challenging Hawk's claim and undermining his feeling of control. Gia was too clever, too subtle.
Gia would make him admit the truth.
His hand rested heavy on Jeni's thigh, his fingers spread wide. The silence built between the three of them until the tension hurt, but when Hawk's voice came, it was rough with desire. “I want someone to help me find the lines.”
“You want to learn how to hurt her without hurting her.” Gia sat back and reached for her wineglass. “How to do it just right.”
Hawk finally looked at her, his eyes intent. “Does Gia know how to do it just right, Jeni?”
What she knew was both simpler and more complex. She knew the places pain could take someone, how the mind and body would react in different ways. How some people would scream, and some would cry, and some would enter a sort of ecstasy that was almost religious in its transcendence. When you put lash to flesh, it stripped away all pretense and left behind only the purest bleeding truth.
Hawk could take her to that truth with a word or a look. It was a different sort of trust, the kind wrapped up in dominance and sub
mission, something Jeni craved as much as the pain. But if she could have both, and have it with Hawk—
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Gia knows.”
He cupped her cheek, turning her so that she couldn't see Gia, only him, as he leaned in close. “Would you like it, Jeni? If I asked her to show me. To help me.”
It wasn't a question, not really. But she nodded anyway.
Hawk swept his thumb over her mouth, then teased at her bottom lip. “Is there someplace private we can go?”
Everything was private tonight. Gia wouldn't have invited them over if she were open for business, and her staff knew exactly when to make themselves scarce. But there was one place Jeni needed to go. One place that meant something. “My room.”
“Why don't you show him there?” Gia slipped out of the booth. “You two can discuss things, and I'll be along once I've settled the place down for the night.”
Her room was in another wing of the house. Jeni gripped Hawk's hand and led him down the quiet, dimly lit hall. Her stomach fluttered, even through the relaxing edge of the wine. “Now I know how you felt,” she confessed.
“About what?” He squeezed her hand. “Showing you my room?”
“Yes.” She paused at the door, then pushed it open.
Inside was the same as the day she'd left. White and blue walls, a patterned carpet over the hardwood that Gia had imported from somewhere, white furniture, and a huge bed that took up the entire center of the room.
It was nothing like her room back at the compound, which was draped with mismatched silks and pillows in bright, clashing colors. But it was still a part of her, and having him here felt like showing him every secret she hadn't realized she was keeping.
He tilted his head, his gaze drifting slowly across the room, cataloging everything. “It's not what I expected.” He laid his hand on the back of her neck. “But it fits you.”
She wanted to turn to him then, feel his hands slide down, all over her—but she'd seen the questions in his eyes at the table. “What do you need to know?”
His fingers tightened slightly—possessive, pressing the leather of the collar closer to her skin. “I need to know if there's anything you don't want to happen. Any way you don't want her to touch either of us.”