by Amy Cecil
The next morning, I come downstairs and hear laughter coming from the kitchen. When I get to the kitchen, I find Emma and Sainte laughing. They stop when they see me come in. I head straight for the coffee. A few minutes go by and Sainte says, "So you've never been to the Presque Isle?"
"Nope. Can you believe it? I've lived here all my life," Emma replies.
"Well darling, we need to fix that," Sainte says. "How about we go Saturday afternoon? It's supposed to be a nice day."
Emma giggles and says, "Oh, I would love that!"
What the fuck? "I thought you were going to visit Ice on Saturday?" I interrupt. Sainte pisses me off already, but Emma’s reaction to him is making me mad as hell.
She glares at me and says, "I am, but that is Saturday morning. My afternoon is free."
"Wanna join us, Feisty Pants?" Sainte asks.
Fuck! The last thing I want to do is spend an afternoon at Presque Isle with this asshole, but I'm conflicted because I feel that I need to keep an eye on these two. I really don't know what's gotten into Emma. A day ago she was depressed and distraught about Ice. Now she is like a different person, all happy and smiling. How she has allowed this smooth operator to charm her is beyond me. I say reluctantly, "Yeah, I will join you." I pause, then add, "I told you last night, don't fucking call me Feisty Pants!"
Sainte just laughs and Emma says, "Oh Honey, lighten up. Sainte doesn't mean any harm. He just likes getting a rise out of you and you deliver every time."
Fuck you, Emma! Fuck all of you! I storm out of the kitchen and go back upstairs to my room.
As I leave the kitchen, I hear Sainte say, "She's something!" Emma laughs.
A few minutes later, there is a knock at my door. I open the door and it's Emma. "Got a minute?" she asks.
"What?" I say shortly.
"What's going on with you, Honey?"
"What do you mean?" I reply defensively.
"I've never seen you act this way before."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Honey, you've always been the nice one, the welcoming one. Why are you being so mean to Sainte? He's only here to help," she says.
"Emma, you are so fucking blind. You are being sucked in by his charms and you'll be sorry. He's planning on causing problems for you and Ice, and if you don't stop it now, it's gonna be too late."
"That's ridiculous. Ice is the one who asked him to come here." She pauses and then says, "What makes you think that he's trouble?"
"Emma, I've been around the block a time or two. I've seen his kind a million times. They come in all good-looking and charming, and then they set their sights on something they want. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will stop them from getting it … and they don't give a shit who they have to destroy in the process. And Emma dear, he fucking wants you!"
Emma laughs heartily. It's almost comical how hard she is laughing. "Oh Honey, I'm surprised at you." She pauses and then says, "For the short time that I have known you I've always thought that you were sharp and your instincts were right on. But sweetie, you are so wrong on this one." She pauses again and then says, "Because the one that he's set his sights on, is you, darling!" And before I can utter another word, she turns and leaves the room.
No way! Absolutely not! Everything he does, he does to piss me off. Why in the hell would she think the opposite? And even if Emma is right, it's obvious that I'm taken. I'm Hawk's old lady and definitely not available.
The next day Emma and Sainte leave early for the jail to visit Ice. Ari and Rebel leave not long after them to get some air, or so Ari says. I assume that Rebel just wanted to get out of the house now that he's feeling better; I'm sure they wanted some alone time.
So it's almost lunchtime and it's just me alone in the house. I have to say, I am enjoying the quiet too much. Sainte in my face all the time is getting old already; I will be glad when he goes back to New York. Ice can't get released soon enough. I hear the rumble of a Harley long before I see it pull into the drive. Looking out the window, I see that it's Hawk. Well, isn't this a nice surprise.
A few minutes later he comes in the front door and says, "Hey doll, whatcha doing?"
"Enjoying the peace and quiet," I reply and laugh. "It's nice having the house to myself."
"I bet. It's beginning to look like Grand Central Station around here."
"Tell me about it."
He laughs and says, "So, I had a break this afternoon and thought I would spend it with my best gal. Interested?"
I smile and say, "I would love that."
"We're going on my bike, darl'n, so you better change."
"Ok, be right back." I run upstairs to change. I love surprises like this and am looking forward to an afternoon alone with Hawk. A few minutes later, I'm dressed in my full riding gear, which consists of jeans, boots, and a jacket. I'm carrying my helmet in my hand and I've already put my gloves on.
"Damn, you are one hot biker chick," he says and comes forward and kisses me full on the mouth. He takes my breath away and then he steps away, leaving me hanging. "Come on," he says as he heads for the door.
Something is up. Hawk is definitely not a spur of the moment kind of guy. He's got something planned. But what?
We get on his bike and take off. We drive for a while, just cruising through the back roads and enjoying the nice day. After about an hour of just riding, Hawk heads back toward town and we end up at his place. When he stops the bike, I dismount from the bike and he follows. Hanging out helmets on the handlebars, we proceed to his front door.
When we get inside, he seems nervous but doesn't say anything at first. Then he says, "So, I thought you and I could use some alone time." He pauses as if hesitant and then says, "Is that ok?"
I stand there for a moment and think about what he is asking. Am I ready for this? I ask myself, and right before I'm about to say yes, two images pop into my head—Ice and Sainte. What the fuck? No, I'm not going there. It's time to move on with my life and my future is with Hawk. End of story. "Yes, it's perfect," I say.
Hawk wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my neck. His warmth seeps into my skin and his strong arms surround me. There is definitely chemistry between us, and it pulses through my body with a fierceness.
He leans down and kisses me, softly at first, and his kiss gradually becomes more urgent. My legs go weak as his tongue tangles with mine. The intensity of his kiss leaves me breathless and wanting more. I reach for the edges of his cut and drag it off his shoulders. I then reach for his shirt and start to lift it up. Yes, I want this. I not only want this, I need this. It's been a long time since I've been with a man. He releases my lips and takes a step back. Suddenly, I felt cold and alone. I ask, "What's wrong?"
The love this man has for me is written all over his face. I can also see his lust. He wants me just as much as I want him. So what's the problem?
"Let's take this upstairs," he says.
I nod and he growls, pulling me to him, claiming my lips again. The slow, demanding way he takes my mouth to his makes me cling to him like a starved kitten clawing for food. Before I know it he is lifting me into his arms and carrying me up the stairs, never breaking our kiss.
When we get to his bedroom, I drop down onto my knees and start to fumble with the fly of his jeans impatiently. I want his cock badly. He helps me by sliding his jeans down just far enough for me to get to the prize. He looks so damn sexy standing there with his pants partially down his legs.
Once his cock is free, I take it in both hands, gently running my hands up and down his shaft as I look up at him. I lick the little notch on the underside of the head, moving my tongue rapidly against him.
"Honey!" he growls, letting me know how good I'm making him feel. I'm glad. This man has stood behind me from the beginning. He's always been there for me and it makes me feel good that I can give him something back.
He reaches down and tangles his fingers in my hair, urging me to go on. He doesn't have to coax me at all. I gladly
wrap my mouth around his cock, sucking him in as deep as I can, taking his tip to the back of my throat. I work my tongue all over his dick as he moans in pleasure. My left hand rests on his balls, alternately rolling and gripping them. His cock gets harder in my mouth and he starts moving his hips toward me a little with each stroke. He grasps at my hair a little tighter. Looking up at him, I see that his eyes are fixated on the pleasure I'm giving him. I am now the one with the power and this big strong biker is at my mercy. The feeling is intoxicating.
Before I know it, he lifts me from under my arms. In one fell swoop he turns me around and now I'm standing next to the bed, my back to his front. Hawk reaches around and undoes my jeans and slowly slides them and my panties down over my hips, allowing them to hover at my knees. He bends me over the bed and his cock swiftly enters me from behind. Holy fuck, it feels so fucking good. He growls again when he's completely sheathed inside me and pumps me hard. He's so deep inside me it feels like my insides are about to explode. He maintains a hard, steady rhythm and before I know it I detonate into one of the most amazing orgasms I’ve ever had. It doesn't take long after for Hawk to reach his orgasm, and he grunts and groans as he releases himself inside me. Holy fuck! I needed that.
We clean ourselves up and get dressed, then as Hawk comes over toward me, he says, "Thank you, baby. You are amazing."
I smile at him coyly and say, "Thank you, I aim to please."
Chapter 27
Rebel's parents are gone now, but Sainte refuses to sleep in the vacant bedroom. He insists on still sleeping on the couch. He's been here three days and it’s only gotten worse. I've been having trouble sleeping at night and tonight is no different. I decide to go downstairs and get something to drink. When I get to the bottom of the stairs, the house is dark. Good, he's asleep. It's always a plus when I don't have to interact with him.
I quietly make my way into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I see that there is an open bottle of sparkling grape juice. What I really want is a glass of wine, but this is the next best thing. I take it out and proceed to the cupboard to get a wine glass, because using a wine glass makes me feel as if I am really drinking the good stuff. Just as I'm pouring my juice, a voice in the darkness startles me. I spill it everywhere as I jump.
"So what's your story, Feisty Pants?" Sainte asks.
I ignore him as I clean up my mess. Then I turn and face him. Fuck! He's standing there in a pair of black sleep pants that hang low on his hips and he's not fucking wearing a shirt. He's ripped, and he's got a tat on his left shoulder that comes down over onto his pec. I can't quite make out what it is in the dark, but it's intriguing. My eyes take in his body and I have no words. He really is fucking beautiful. It's a shame his personality doesn't match his looks.
"Well?" he prods.
"That is none of your business," I reply.
"Oh come on Honey, I know you've got a story." He moves in closer to me and says, "What's the matter, Feisty Pants? You afraid of what I might think of you when you tell me?"
"You know what, Sainte? You're a cocky ass. I'm not afraid of anything and frankly, I don't give a shit what you think of me." I grab my glass of fake wine and start to walk away.
Before I get too far, he grabs my arm and pulls me back. Taking the glass of out of my hand, he begins to back me against the kitchen counter. He sets the glass down and leans in close. His body is right up against mine and I can feel his erection pushing into my core. My body betrays my mind and I can feel the wetness pool between my legs. "Look, darling, you may think that you hate me—hell, right now, you probably do—but that doesn't stop you from wanting me." He pauses and leans in to whisper in my ear and says, "And even though you hate me, it doesn't stop me from wanting to tear your clothes off and fuck you into oblivion."
Oh my. I thought the chemistry between Hawk and I was strong, but it's nothing compared to what I feel with this guy … which only makes me hate him more.
I'm breathless from his words and his close proximity and before I can utter a word, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me, hard and possessively. Everything in me fights to not kiss him back, but I can't. My arms reach up around his neck and I greedily kiss him back. My body melts into his. The kiss seems to last forever and when he breaks the kiss and steps away from me, I feel cold and bereft. "Told ya," he says smugly and suddenly I remember that I hate him. Before he sees it coming, I reach up and slap him hard across the face.
"Don't fucking touch me again!" I spit. As I storm out of the kitchen, I can hear him laughing behind me. How dare he laugh at me!
I get back up to my room, without my grape juice I might add, and I am even less tired than I was before. I'm fuming mad. Why the fuck did I fall into his trap? Why did I let him get the better of me? Fuck! I've known guys like him all my life. I know the signs of an asshole, and he fits the bill perfectly. Then why? Why the fuck did I let him kiss me, and more importantly, why did I kiss him back?
That kiss. Oh my … No man, not even Ice, has kissed me like that. It wasn't a kiss of just passion or lust. No, it was a kiss of dominance, power, and complete control. He fucking owned me during that kiss, devouring my mind as well as my lips. And I fucking let him!
I was definitely right about him. He's trouble. I can't let this happen again; if I do, he will destroy me.
As I lie in bed, I can't stop thinking about the feel of his lips or how his body felt pressed up against mine. And then, reality takes a front row seat, and I think about Hawk. He's always been there for me and this is how I repay him, by kissing another man.
I need to tell him. I have lied to him about so many things, mainly for his own good and to not hurt him, but I can't keep this from him. First, it's the right thing to do, and second, I don't trust Sainte to keep his mouth shut about it. Hawk is safe. He's strong and grounded. He won't hurt me. And he's who I need to be with. I'll tell him tomorrow.
As I finally start to fall asleep, I have one last thought.
I'm so screwed.
The next morning, I'm stalling. I've been in my room much longer than normal; frankly, I'm afraid to go downstairs and face Sainte. But I have learned over the years to not run from my fears, so I take one last look at myself in the mirror and decide that I have to do this. I can't hide here forever, or until he leaves. When I walk down the stairs, I find him and Emma sitting together on the couch watching a movie. I can feel my blood pressure rise when I see that she is sitting so close to him. If I didn't know better, I'd swear they were snuggling. What the fuck?
That's when I decide that Ice needs to know what's going on. I grab my purse and keys and head for the door.
"Where are you going, Feisty Pants?" Sainte asks.
Without turning around, I say, "Out," and slam the door behind me.
I get in my car, slamming that door as well. I am so mad I could spit nails. How dare she do this to Ice? Doesn't she get what he's done for her? Doesn't she understand that he's in jail because of her? And Sainte! He's supposed to be Ice's friend. Ice trusts him and he should respect their friendship. And he was fucking kissing me last night!
I get to the prison and register as a visitor. They say that it will take a few minutes and tell me to have a seat. I sit down in the outer lobby and wait. I can feel my heart hammering through my chest. My blood pressure must be through the roof. Finally, an officer comes out and says, "Miss Benson, follow me please."
I follow him through a doorway and down a long hallway. He takes me into a room, but it's not like a visitation room. There is a woman in the room and he says, "Officer Chapel needs to pat you down."
I nod and the woman takes me behind a screen and gives me the standard pat-down. Then she says, "She's good." He nods and walks out the door and I assume that I'm supposed to follow him.
He then takes me into another room that is small, consisting only of a table and three chairs—two at the table and one by the door. "Wait here," he says and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. A few minutes later the door o
pens back up and in walks Ice, followed by a different security guard. Relief washes over me. It's so good to see him, even if they have him wearing an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs. I smile and he smiles back. The guard says, "Fifteen minutes, Jackson, then you go back."
Ice nods and the guard parks himself in the chair beside the door.
Ice sits down, placing his cuffed hands on the table. He says, "Honey, what are you doing here?"
"What? Not happy to see me?" I tease.
"Of course I am, but when they told me I had a visitor you were the last person I expected to see. Something happen?"
"No, not yet. But if you don't step in and nip it in the bud, something will."
"What's going on?" he asks.
"Ice, look, I know you've got your reasons about having Sainte here, but I'm telling you, he's bad news. You need to send him packing before he ruins everything."
"Honey, I can't do that. I've known Sainte for years and I trust him, just like I trust all my brothers. He's here for a reason and he needs to stay."
"Ice, you don't get it. He's moving in on Emma, and she's letting him!" I say in a furious whisper. The last thing I want is for the security guard by the door to know our business.
And to my surprise, Ice laughs. Not a chuckle, but a wholehearted laugh.
"Stop laughing, Ice, this isn't funny. He's fucking with your woman. You need to stop it!"
He stops laughing, but I can still see the mirth in his eyes. His amusement is really pissing me off; the situation is not funny! He reaches for my hand, but before he touches me, the guard says, "No touching." Ice quickly rescinds the gesture and looks at me apologetically.
"Honey, darling. When have I not known what I was doing?"
"Well, I guess as long as I've known you … never," I say.
"Exactly." He pauses. "I have my reasons for having Sainte here. Trust me when I say that I have nothing to worry about where Emma is concerned."
"But you don't see them," I plead. "They're always together. Always laughing together and this morning, I swear they were snuggling on the couch."