Page 7

Hawk

I held Carrie against me as she slept, keeping her tucked securely against my chest. Her breathing had evened out quickly after our lovemaking, and now she slept deeply, occasionally making little sounds that tugged at something primal inside me. My woman. Mine to protect. Mine to cherish.

The thought should have terrified me. I’d never been the settling down type, not even before prison. But something about Carrie felt inevitable. Like I’d been moving toward her my whole life. I still had to tell her about my prison stint. I admit to being slightly nervous when I’d always given a big ole “fuck you” to anyone who’d looked down at me for my past.

My cell phone vibrated on the nightstand. I reached for it carefully, trying not to disturb Carrie.

Knuckles: We got company at the gate. Your woman’s brother is here .

I glanced at the clock. We’d been asleep less than an hour. Shit.

Me: Need 10. She’s sleeping .

Knuckles: Take 15. But no more. Dude’s making me nervous standing out there .

Me: Pussy

Knuckles: Asshole

I set the phone down with a grin and gazed at Carrie’s sleeping form. She looked peaceful, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to be since I’d found her. I’d be a Goddamned liar if that thought didn’t make me feel ten feet tall and bulletproof. This woman trusted me. Me . I was determined to prove myself worthy of her faith. No matter who I had to kill.

Carrie stirred against me, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she looked disoriented, then recognition dawned. She smiled sleepily. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself, Killer.” I brushed her hair back from her face. “Your brother’s here.”

That woke her up. She sat bolt upright, her eyes wide. “Vic? He’s here now?”

“At the gate. We need to get dressed.” I watched her carefully, trying to gauge her feelings, but she’d closed herself off. At least, partially. I thought I saw a hint of anxiety in the tight line of her mouth. She couldn’t lie worth a damn, but there were times when she was very adept at guarding her expressions. “Honey, if you don’t want to do this, I’ll take care of him.”

“No.” She sat up and smiled over her shoulder at me. I couldn’t resist brushing my fingertips up and down the line of her back just to feel her tremble, and watch the chill bumps pebble her skin. The woman was the most responsive lover I’d ever had. “I’ll talk to Vic.” She hesitated a second, looking like she was debating with herself whether or not to say something else. “I admit, I’m more than a little nervous. I don’t believe Vic would harm me unless he thought I was a threat to the rest of the family, but I also don’t know what my father told him or what he believes.”

“You mentioned you were the youngest of your siblings. How old are you, Killer?”

“Twenty-three. Older than I should be to be a virgin.” Her smile was soft and full of amusement. “Thank you, Hawk.”

I shook my head, frowning. “For what, honey?”

“For making my first time so wonderful. You can’t imagine how long I’ve dreaded that act. But I chose you. And you let me.” She stood then, not trying to cover herself. “It was glorious, Hawk. More than I ever imagined it could be.”

My chest swelled with a satisfaction so deep I’d never felt anything like it. I’d gone from an angry, grizzled ex-con to a love-struck idiot in the span of a few hours. I knew my brothers would razz me unmercifully, but I couldn’t give a fuck. Let them laugh. I was the one with this incredible woman in my bed. Besides, Knuckles and Gunnar knew. They’d gone through the same sprint to the finish line with their women. So, yeah. Fuck ’em. They’d get theirs. If they were lucky.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Killer. Because that was just the beginning.” I rose from the bed and pulled her into my arms, kissing her deeply. When she pushed me back, we were both breathing hard.

“Shower first,” she said with a wide, satisfied smile. “We both smell like sex.”

“Part of me likes that idea.” My grin was unrepentant. “Let your brother know you’re mine.”

“Are you sure about that? All you know about my brother is that he’s a better killer than me. What I’ve told you is the watered-down version. Mainly because that’s what Vic gives me. Whatever he does I don’t know about, you can bet your ass he’s in a league all his own.

“Fine.” I sighed dramatically. “Shower it is.” Her merry laughter was the sweetest music I’d ever heard.

I followed her into the bathroom, unwilling to let her out of my sight. If this was all a dream, I was playing it out until she called off. The bathroom was small but functional. It did have a large, comfortable shower. Most of us refused the bigger, fancier top floor apartments simply because we didn’t trust too much comfort, but large, private showers were a luxury none of us had on the inside and swore never to do without on the outside. Personally, I found myself rethinking not wanting one of the bigger, fancier apartments. I wanted to give Carrie every comfort I possibly could, even if I was an ex-con with nothing to his name. Literally. I turned on the water, letting it heat up while I watched her move around the space, gathering the towels and shampoo Hannah and Pippa had thought to bring. God knew I didn’t have that girly shit. Give me some good, clean Irish Spring or something and I was more than good.

“You’re staring,” she said without looking at me.

“Can’t help it. You’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

A blush spread up her neck to her cheeks. When she turned to look over her shoulder, I saw that the blush painted the tops of her breasts almost to the nipples. I had a moment to wonder if her skin would be hot to touch. “I’m not used to compliments.”

“Get used to it.” I stepped into the shower and pulled her in after me. “Because I’m not gonna stop telling you how perfect you are.”

“I thought we were in a hurry?” She raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

“We are. That’s why I’m offering to wash your back.” I gave her my most innocent look, which probably wasn’t very convincing.

To my delight, her face brightened into a glorious smile. “I think I’d like that.” Instead of turning around, however, she stepped into my arms and laced her fingers behind my neck. With those absolutely magnificent breasts mashed against my chest, her body mashed against my cock as she leaned up to kiss me, I was about to come against her soft belly. “How long do we have?”

I groaned. “Not fuckin’ long enough.” I wrapped my arms around her and urged her to kiss me again. “Knuckles said fifteen minutes, but I can probably push it to thirty.”

“You cannot push it to thirty, you asshole.” Knuckles’s voice boomed from outside the bathroom. Carrie squealed and let me go, taking up a defensive stance on instinct. I moved my body in front of hers as I stuck my head around the glass enclosure of the shower.

“The fuck, Knuckles? I told you we’d be down!”

“Fifteen minutes,” Knuckles repeated. “You have three left.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. Carrie looked like she wasn’t sure if she should be angry or amused. “Guess I can’t push it to thirty.”

“Damned straight you can’t! Move it!”

“What crawled up your ass, Knuckles?”

“Your woman’s brother. Water’s still runnin’. You’re down to two and a half minutes.”

“I never pegged you for the mother hen type, Knuckles.” Carrie raised her voice to be heard over the water and through the door, but I could almost see Knuckles’s face as if he were standing right in front of us.

There was a long pause and I thought Knuckles had left, then I heard him grumble, “That was cold, woman. Really fuckin’ cold.” Then his heavy boots thudded as he left our apartment.

“Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll apologize!” she called out again, louder this time.

Knuckles hollered back, “Nobody likes that person, Carrie.”

Carrie burst out laughing as she turned me so I faced her. Her lips found mine, and she kissed me again, continuing to laugh.

I chuckled against her lips. “You’re gonna fit right in here, Killer. Come on, let’s get rinsed off before Knuckles comes back with reinforcements.” When we stepped out, I wrapped her in a towel before grabbing one for myself.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” Carrie said, suddenly looking uncertain.

“Hannah must have sent something with Knuckles.” I nodded toward a small pile on the bed that hadn’t been there when we got up.

Carrie’s cheeks flushed again as she picked through the clothes. Simple jeans, a black T-shirt, and underwear. And her property vest. “Are you sure?”

“You ain’t backin’ out on me now, woman. I’ll still honor your decision if you don’t want to put this on, but I will do everything in my power to change your mind. Even if I have to crawl on my knees through broken glass.”

Her smile softened and she looked up at me. “That was beautiful.” Then that same, gorgeous, intoxicating smile turned positively wicked. “I can’t wait to tell Pippa and Hannah how poetic you are.” She leaned in on her tiptoes and kissed me once more before rushing to get dressed.

“I ain’t fuckin’ poetic. What the fuck, woman?”

I dressed quickly in clean jeans and a fresh T-shirt, pulling on my cut over it to the sound of Carrie’s laughter. The familiar weight of the leather vest with Kiss of Death MC patches settled on my shoulders, grounding me. As I watched Carrie dress, a sense of possessiveness washed over me. I needed everyone to know she was mine.

I picked up the cut Knuckles had brought for her. I’m not sure how he’d got it made this fast, but I was grateful. “Turn around, honey.” She did and I helped her into the vest. “This will let everyone in the compound know you belong to me. It’ll also clue the club girls into the fact I’m taken.

“So this is what Kat was talking about.”

“Yes. This is the property thingie.”

“Revenge for the whole poetic comment?”

I just grinned.