Hawk's Revenge

by N. M. Catalano

  He takes off both my shoes and my pants, then tosses everything aside. He lowers to kneel in front of me, one hand teasing my nipple as the other lifts one of my legs onto his shoulder. The cooler air from the room whispers against my sex and makes me shudder. “Oh, God…,” I mumble and practically slide to the floor.

  He’s going to lick me.

  His grip tightens around my thigh. “I want you wrapped around my cock, but first I have to taste you,” his hot breath fans against my slit. Sweet Jesus! Another shudder ripples through me, this time from the lust that’s exploding between us, born the moment I laid eyes on him, then erupted inside this room. When he lowers his mouth to me, open and wet and warm, it’s a shot of ecstasy straight through me. Laying his tongue flat against my slit, covering me entirely, he drags it slowly up.

  “Oh, God, yes,” I murmur drunkenly as sensations explode inside me.

  Nothing has ever felt like him…like this. This man is a weapon, every single part of him, and right now, his tongue, lips, and hands are decimating me, tearing away everything that has imprisoned me, my fear and isolation and loneliness. Every swipe of his tongue, each grip of his hands, every single scrape of his teeth, tears another brick from my walls.

  Then he closes his lips over my clit and sucks with a throaty, “Mmmmm.” The teasing and vibrations mingled with the suckling sends electric pulses shooting through me. His mouth takes me slow and deliberately one minute, relishing every lick, every thrust, every drop. Then he turns ravenous and starved the next, hungry and wild, fucking me unapologetically with his tongue, sucking me between his lips, taking my clit between his teeth with a growl. His tongue drags slow circles around it, before teasing it mercilessly. Already I can feel the tightening of my climax. A thin sheen of sweat erupts over my skin as my breathing accelerates.

  Hawk lifts my leg and opens me up wider.

  Yes, yes, yes! My body is pleading for him, for more. More. MORE.

  Plunging his tongue into my entrance, he teases me, going back and forth from flicking my sensitive nub to penetrating me.

  It’s not enough, I need more. I want destruction, I need annihilation.

  “Hawk,” I pant, my hips grinding against his mouth.

  Lightly, so gently, he takes my clit between his teeth, the tender bite sends delicious shockwaves through me, as he rubs it with his tongue.

  My toes curl, my eyes roll back in my head, and my entire body planks.

  That’s it, that’s the blow that sends me over the edge. I come with a force I’ve never felt before, and my entire body vibrates from the intensity. I can practically hear the stones rumbling and falling away, shattering my imprisonment. From Franks words, from my grief, and from my loneliness.

  After placing a kiss on my sex, he stands. I’m breathing heavily, my heart is pounding, and my walls are grasping for more. Snaking his muscular arms around my body, he pulls me close and kisses me long and deep and completely. His face is wet with my arousal, my taste mingling with his.

  “I want to fuck you, Jo,” he rumbles.

  “Good,” I rasp.

  I push back the nagging silent whisper that this is a bad idea.

  This is the best idea I’ve had in over five years.

  He lifts me, holding me under my ass cheeks, and guides my legs around his waist. Turning, he sets me down on a pile of boxes. He peels my legs from around him and holds them wide open.

  “I knew you’d have a beautiful pussy,” his eyes are fixed on me, everything open and on display for him, his gaze intense like everything else about him. There’s no doubt he can see the pulsating aftershocks of my orgasm.

  Oh my God!

  Slowly, so deliciously slowly, he enters me, his thickness opening and spreading me, filling me up inch by incredible inch. Then he starts to move.

  His thrusts are slow and deliberate, I can feel every inch of him gliding against my walls, each drag of his length in and out is calculated just like everything else about him. His gaze is fixed on the place we’re joined, entering me and pulling back, and mine is fixed on him. I can’t tear my eyes away from his riveted gaze focused on his shaft as he splits me open, filling me up again and again. It’s sexy as fuck, and makes me feel powerful.

  “So good,” he murmurs.

  It is. So, so good, it’s intoxicating, a slow burn that’s consuming me.

  My long lustful moan mixes with his growl. I can sense he’s holding back, taking his time, letting it build slowly. A voice in my head pleads for him to take me harder, but this, what’s happening between us, is something unfolding from the lifeless world we’re in. We’re two bodies being pushed by something powerful that’s controlling us. Our movements are slow and methodical. He lifts his eyes to lock with mine. There’s something wild and primitive swirling in their depths. His beast, the demons taking me as their sacrifice, and enjoying every minute of it. He lowers his face to mine, and our mouths lock in a long, deep, and hungry kiss. I kiss him with a need I’ve buried for so long, with the hunger to let go, with the yearning to be a woman who wants to be wanted.

  When he straightens again, he rasps, “You feel so damn good.” His voice rough, but gentle and intoxicating.

  He thrusts into me slowly, but demandingly and deep. The sensations of the exquisite friction of him dragging deliciously against my walls flow through my body in waves, cresting higher with each one, seeping through every part of me. Then he reaches a hand and clasps my clit tightly, his lips curled in a devilish smirk.

  “Oh my God...” I throw my head back as my body arches into him.

  I’m paralyzed by the surge of sensations that shoot through me, igniting every cell inside me. His hips begin to move faster and hungrier, fueled by a fire that’s getting hotter and hotter. The sounds of skin slapping skin, the primal noises coming from somewhere deep inside him, and my silent scream. My release shoots like an asteroid through the wide vastness of our need, coiled from deep inside my lions. I come, it’s powerful and all consuming, a roar of an explosion that rocks my entire body. Hawk is right there with me, pounding into me, burying himself inside me as far as he’ll go as his body arches and pushes me into the rack at my back. It started with a rumble deep in his chest, growing into a loud primitive growl. He bends and wraps his arms around me, his mouth possessing mine, his climax intertwining with mine, pulling us together, our bodies pulsating against each other rocked by the intensity. That’s how we stay for long moments, unable to let go, coming back down from the explosion.

  “Let me take you home,” he murmurs into my neck.

  “You did,” I reply softly. He quirks an eyebrow at me as my feet land softly on the floor, an elusive grin teasing the corner of his sinful mouth. “I live upstairs.”

  A shadow falls over his features. “You shouldn’t.”

  You’re not telling me something I don’t already know.

  A cold dose of reality hits me in the face and sobers me right up. “Yeah, well,” I bend to grab my clothes and start to dress, “life sucks then you die.”

  “Jo,” his detached tone is back as he grasps my arm.

  “Don’t, Hawk.” I pull myself from his grip. “Nothing’s changed.”

  He stares at me. I don’t know what he’s thinking, any hint of emotion is gone and is once again replaced by his stone mask. I can’t read him.

  “Get dressed,” I motion with my head toward the door. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Fine.” He tucks himself back into his briefs and closes his pants, his eyes never leaving mine. I quirk an eyebrow at him with my arms crossed over my chest. My wall is back up even though there are a few bricks missing. Thankfully, it’s not destroyed.

  Shoving my feet back into my shoes, I ask, “Done?”

  “No,” he comments in his typical I-give-absolutely-no-fucks tone. It’s what he said, though, not how he said it, because I may not know him at all, but what I do know is he is a natural born prick. Something must be seriously wrong with me, because I like it.


  “Too bad.”

  I shove past him, open the door, and peek outside, half expecting Frank and his watchdogs to be waiting there.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Hawk snaps.

  I peer back at him over my shoulder. “Leaving.”

  He yanks me back inside. “You will keep your sexy ass in here until I look around. Do. Not. Leave. Until I come back and say you can.”

  This man. No one has looked out for me. Ever. Don’t Jo! Right, I have to remind myself he’s the enemy, one of Frank’s boys. However, even as I think it, I can’t believe it. He works for him, for Christ’s sake! But a man like Hawk doesn’t seem like he’d be anyone’s bitch. “Okay.” Because I’m absolutely certain Frank would teach me another lesson if he saw us leave together, one I’m not sure I’d ever come back from.

  Hawk moves to the door, takes a quick look outside, then slips silently out, closing it behind him. My nerves quickly start to fray as my ears search for sounds of crashing and gunshots. It seems like an hour before the door opens again. I almost scream.

  Hawks welcoming face stares back at me from the doorway, and as much as I hate it, I know he can see my fear. He lifts his hand to me, “Come on,” he says in a tone that’s almost tender. I take it and hate that the contact instantly soothes me. “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  The terrible thing is I do believe him.

  When we enter the barroom, the lights are all off, I turn my face to his. We can barely see each other in the darkness, but I can make out his steely eyes, eyes that look like they’d slice you with their coldness. But that’s not what I see. There’s a hint of understanding.

  “Upstairs is clear, I checked,” he whispers.

  My heart does this strange flip-flop. I want to slap it back into its titanium box.

  “Go on up, I’ll lock up after myself when I leave.”

  He’s the bad guy. He works for Frank, I remind myself. I can’t shake the fact it’s hard for me to believe.

  “Thanks,” I mumble.

  “Goodnight, Jo. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he gives me another rare grin.

  I don’t say anything when I start up the stairs, confused, satisfied, and wanting more. But my steps are a little less heavy tonight.

  CHAPTER 12

  Hawk

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  She is whiskey at midnight, a bad decision. Nothing good ever happens past midnight, especially not whiskey.

  When I left Jo, I’d slipped through the darkness to where I’d parked my truck inside an empty garage I’d found in my travels. It appeared to have been closed up for years, so I borrowed it. I would have been a bullseye if I’d sat and waited for everyone to leave, I’d already brought enough attention to myself for one night, my first night as Castillo’s new lap dog. Invisibility is a weapon; it lets you slip silently by without any hindrance. Grabbing Bo the way I had could backfire on me before I’m ready. I need time. There are a hell of a lot more questions now than there were when I started this ‘not an assignment’.

  Jo has sprinted right past distraction and is now running at full speed complication. Not fucking good.

  Steadfast rule #1: emotions are dangerous. Don’t get involved.

  I have no emotions, so what the fuck was that? I just slid my dick into involvement and blew a huge load of emotion. Shake that shit up, and you’ve got a hundred proof complication.

  What the hell happened, and where did the prick that I am go?

  I admit from the moment I witnessed the incident between Bo and Jo, she’d become an…intriguing distraction. A distraction which grew to include a looping reel of very lurid, very filthy thoughts. Then when I heard her sing, watched the woman she keeps locked up in the dungeon inside herself, she became a filet mignon to a starving man. I turned into a wild beast who was ravenous and I needed to feast.

  That led to my next faux pas. Cue the complication.

  Rule #2: Never react.

  I. Don’t. React. Ever. Except this time, I did. I stormed all over that not once, but twice. First time, I almost crushed Bo’s throat. My beast couldn’t sit idly by while another animal threatened what he wanted. The second time, the thing that blew the little control I had was the look in Jo’s eyes. I saw the tears that were threatening to fall. She was falling apart.

  I never react, I plan, everything I do is calculated.

  Both instances I fucking snapped.

  Something happened to her, something bad. When I entered that store room, I didn’t find the bad ass broad from behind the bar. It was the woman she’s protecting, and she was a wreck. I wanted to destroy whoever was responsible. Although she didn’t say it, I’m sure Castillo is it. No wonder she hates me for working for him. Somehow, he controls her and she’s fully and devastatingly aware of it. She didn’t answer me when I asked her, but she didn’t have to. She said that Castillo would hurt me if he caught us.

  She’s fucking terrified of him.

  I’m going to enjoy torturing him. I’m beyond furious, all I see is red. The red rage from my demons, and the red of Frank’s blood I’m going to bathe in. Every kill instinct is blazing within me, I’ve envisioned a hundred different ways to make him suffer while keeping him alive long enough to do it over and over again.

  Whatever he’s got on her gave him the power to hurt her and still keep his control over her. She’s strong, intelligent, and has a bigger pair of balls than a lot of men I’ve come across. However, she’s also alone in this fucked up, crooked town.

  “Goddamn it!”

  I can’t let this get personal, nothing is ever personal, I don’t even know what that means anymore, but everything tells me she’s stuck in something bad.

  I was holding it together, but when her body pressed against mine, when her passion and fury exploded from her into me with our kiss, I couldn’t stop. It began as a battle, each of us fighting each other, and ourselves. We ripped that apart as our hands traveled over our bodies and shredded off our clothes.

  “She’s got to get out of there.” I glance at the buildings I pass on the way to the bar.

  Her living alone in the place where Castillo rules his kingdom, where he comes and goes whenever and however he pleases, needs to end. I can’t take her anywhere, I can’t leave, I’m on an assignment, for fucks sake. They’re watching me as well, and they sure as hell don’t trust me.

  But it appeared Castillo no longer trusts his men either.

  I planted a seed in Castillo’s mind, I gave him a little picture that his boys play games they’re not supposed to when he’s not looking. He sure as shit did not like it. That could very well work in my favor.

  I can’t bring her back to my trailer, it’s too exposed, and I’d bet those other campers belong to men who also work for Castillo. Truckers, fishermen, bikers, they were all there at the bar, everyone who works for him are mobile. They move Castillo’s product, whatever the fuck it is.

  She needs some place he doesn’t know about. The problem with finding that is everyone is on his payroll and Jo doesn’t trust anyone.

  Except maybe one person. The DJ. He might be the only one that can be used to manipulate a plan.

  I press down on the accelerator and hope he’s working when I pull into a space out front of Joe’s Bar. Cutting the ignition, I look up at the old neon sign with the burnt out ‘e’. I wonder if Jo’s dad worked for Castillo. Is that how she got tied up in this mess? I wonder if Jo knows the answer to that question, and if she could trust me enough to tell me if she did. Opening the door, I step out and head for the front door. If I get Jo to trust me, I can question her and get some answers.

  When I step inside the bar, the guard named Dave is standing there. He’s got a black eye and a busted lip, and he looks mad as hell. “Here, this is from the boss,” he shoves a burn phone at me. “We all get one. Always on call.” He turns and walks away with a new limp.

  Looks like someone else ran into a
fist last night.

  I power it on and press the contacts button. None, nothing. It’s not for me to call him, but for me to always be on beckon call.

  I glance around the bar. Jo’s filling the refrigerators with her eyes already locked on me. They’re a conflict of emotions, including wariness and lust. My body does this strange thing, like it’s automatically pulled to her as a wash of heat slips straight through me. I shut that down quick, that’s the last thing I need, nobody in here needs to see that, and I don’t want to be the reason anything happens to her. It’s bad enough I allowed the distraction to take over last night. This has turned into a completely fucked up situation that could spiral out of control. Forcing myself, I turn to the stage; the DJ is not here. I shove the phone in my pocket and look around. I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do, so I start taking down the chairs from the tabletops.

  I see Bo approach me from my peripheral. His face is a fucking wreck; they did a number on him. If they hadn’t, then it would have been their asses no doubt.

  “Sorry,” as much as I hate it, I mumble an apology to him in order to keep up the façade and to establish some kind of an appearance of a truce.

  His eyes flash a moment of hatred, but he tamps it down quickly. “We’re good. Come on, we’re going for a ride.”

  Maybe I got a promotion, or this is a test.

  He’s already moving for the door as I push a chair to the table and follow him. I can feel Jo’s eyes burning a hole in my back as I go. I don’t look at her, but damn, I want to.

  I’ve got a job to do.

  I don’t ask any questions as Bo leads me to a white cargo van with no windows. He gets in the driver’s seat and I get in the passenger side. He turns the key that’s already in the ignition, then pulls out of the parking lot. It’s almost completely dark as we drive in the direction of the docks.

  He finally breaks the silence. “What the fuck was that last night?”

  That was me not killing you.

  “I can’t stand women being manhandled. It does crazy shit to me,” I state flatly as an image of a house from years ago and my ghosts float through my mind.