Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (The Hawke Family Book 1) (12 page)

“Why are you so nervous?” I ask, brushing her hair back behind her shoulder and cupping her cheek to turn her face toward me.

Her eyes meet mine and I’m momentarily lost in the silvery blue of her irises and the glint of the setting sun off her flawless skin. “I’m not,” she whispers.

“Yes, you are,” I say, cupping her face between my hands, refusing to let her look away from me when I say this, “and I’m sorry you had to find out this way. It isn’t fair to ask you to take me, and all this, on. We said, and did, things when you didn’t have all the information. I wouldn’t blame you if you choose to walk away right now. But, before you do, I need to kiss you, because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about doing it since the second you walked into my office.”

Her eyes flash with heat and her tongue slips out over her bottom lip, wetting it, making it even more irresistible.

Pulling her to me, I pause when our lips are a mere hair's breadth apart. “Last chance to run,” I whisper. She doesn’t even flinch, and I strike, pressing my lips against hers in a scorching kiss. My cock hardens beneath her and she responds, groaning and sliding her tongue along my bottom lip, begging for entry. I oblige and our tongues tangle, thrusting against each other wildly. It is exactly everything I had known it would be.

When we finally come up for air, I know there is no way I can let her go after that kiss. “Danika, you have no reason to be nervous with me. I’m still the same person I’ve always been with you, and I know exactly what you want to know.”

Her lips part slightly, but she sucks back the words, glancing down at her hands pressed against my chest. “You do?”

I nod and slowly brush my thumb down her cheek before lifting her chin so she’s facing me again, her buttery-smooth skin like velvet under my fingertips and I long to know if the rest of her body feels the same. “You want to know if I am paralyzed, how can I possibly have sex, right?”

She freezes against me, going so stone still, her chest barely moving with her shallow breathing.

Bingo.

Shit. How the fuck did he know that? Am I really that transparent?

I sigh and drop my forehead against his chest, my face probably turning many brilliant shades of red to match the sunset behind me. He chuckles and captures my cheeks in his palms, pulling me up to face him again, a smirk on his lips.

“Yes, some paraplegics have issues with sexual function. I, thankfully, don’t have trouble getting hard.” Leaning forward, he kisses my cheek, then brushes his lips against my ear. “What? Do you think I somehow faked those pictures and videos?”

Yes.

“No,” I say, hoping my blush doesn’t give me away again.

Why do I have to be such a horrible liar?

He laughs again and pulls back, pressing his lips to mine gently. “Baby, you can feel the evidence of how I feel about you pressing against your beautiful ass right now—proof that those pictures were very much real.” He pushes his cock up against me, and a groan slips from my lips.

The constant buzz of electricity that has been sliding across my skin since I fell onto his lap arcs between us, and he captures my mouth again. Cradling my face in his left hand, he devours my lips and slowly skims his right hand from my knee up my thigh to the hem of my sundress.

Instinctively, I shift on his lap, grinding down against his rock-hard erection. He moans into my mouth as his tongue glides effortlessly along mine.

Fuck, he tastes like wine and sex. My two favorite things. I’m a total lush, and I desperately need to get fucked. By. This. Man.

His hand slips up under the hem of my dress, searing a line of fire along my sensitive skin. When the tips of his fingers brush against the silk fabric of my thong, a shudder rolls through my entire body and I push against him, urging him further.

Touch me!

It has the opposite effect. His hand stills momentarily, and I want to scream at him, but instead, a desperate whimper escapes my lips and he groans in reply, redoubling his assault on my mouth as he finally slides my panties to the side.

I turn into him, giving him a better angle and gasp when he drags his fingertips slowly through my drenched folds. My body vibrates with need—the need for him to shove into me with his fingers, his tongue, his cock, hell, anything at this point.

He slides his fingers up until he finds my throbbing clit and he coats it in my arousal, making me bow up off his lap. He doesn’t relent, instead slipping two fingers into my needy pussy as he continues to roll against my clit with his thumb. I close my eyes and drop my head back; he follows, his mouth and tongue moving in time with his fingers.

Holy shit. I’m not going to last.

Bright lights flash behind my eyelids as I roll my hips against his hand, keeping time with the demanding rhythm he has set. I clutch at his shirt, my fingers tugging on the crisp fabric, desperate for anything to keep me from flying apart.

He pulls away from my mouth and my eyes fly open, searching his face for a reason why. His blue eyes are ablaze with desire and his swollen lips are slightly parted as he groans. “God, you are so fucking beautiful, Dani. I want to see your face when you come for me.”

All I manage in reply is a whimper when he curls his fingers up and finds my G-spot. A fire roars through me and the world disappears as my orgasm eliminates any possibility of cognizant thought.

“Oh, fuck, Savage…” My hips buck and roll against his hand and he covers my mouth with his, sucking my tongue in rhythm with my orgasm and devouring my scream.

When the splintering pleasure finally ebbs, his thumb slows and he eases his fingers out before capturing my face between his hands for a bruising kiss.

“Fuck, you have no idea how incredible it was to see you fall apart like that,” he says, dropping his forehead against mine. My breaths are still coming out in short pants and the world seems a little hazy around the edges, but his cock is still very hard beneath me. I would love nothing more than to yank the zipper of his pants down and sit down on his dick, but a realization hits me.

I can’t fuck him. Even if I want to, even if he wants it, I can’t do that. Not when I have no idea where this is going between us. Not when he clearly isn’t just looking for a fuck buddy. Not when he can’t give me what I need.

Reluctantly, I pull my head away from his and I glance down at my dress, now shoved up almost to my panties. I yank it back down toward my knee, clear my throat and quickly stand, turning my back on Savage.

“Danika?”

I peek back at him as I straighten my dress. He hasn’t moved an inch, but written all over his face is recognition that the mood has shifted.

“Um, I have to go. I’m sorry. I have to finish an article before tomorrow morning.”

LIAR!

With a quick turn, I make a break for the sliding glass door and immediately beeline for the kitchen to grab my heels before dashing toward the front door.

Shit. This isn’t me. I don’t get ashamed or shy after sex. I never run. What the fuck am I doing?

My stomach roils and I flatten my hand over it, taking a deep breath before I stop by the front door to bend down and slip on my shoes.

I see him approaching in my peripheral vision, but keep my eyes on the floor. This man has me so off balance, I don’t even trust myself to look at him right now.

Because you know running is WRONG!

As soon as my shoes are on and I grab my purse from the table near the door, I’m out of excuses. Turning to face him, I plaster on a smile I hope is convincing.

He smiles back, but I see the question and disappointment behind it.

Cold-hearted bitch.

I step over to him and bend down to place a kiss on his cheek. Pulling back, I smile again.

“Thank you for dinner. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He nods, but otherwise doesn’t respond.

I turn my back on him and slip through the door and out into the hallway. The second it clicks shut behind me, I slump back against it, dropping my head into my hands.

What the hell is this man doing to me?

“What crawled up your ass today?”

I cast my death glare toward the other end of the table and my baby sister, Skye.

“Skye!” My mother’s chiding of her only grates more on my already tortured nerves.

“What?” Skye asks, throwing her hands up. “It’s not like you aren’t all thinking the same thing.”

I glance around the table at my oldest sister, Storm, her husband, Ben, and their daughter, Angelina, then at my mother, who gives me a sympathetic look.

“Well, honey, she does have a point. You have kind of been out of sorts today.”

Tossing my fork onto my plate with a clank, I drop my elbows to the table and run my hands back through my hair, tugging on the ends and looking to Storm for help. She’s the most level-headed of the Hawke kids, and she always tends to be the mediator. She purses her lips and frowns slightly.

Shit, I really have been a dick today.

“Savage, come on, what’s going on?” she asks, pushing her empty plate away from her and focusing her grey eyes on me. I don’t move or say anything. I really don’t need the entire family involved in my love life. I don’t know why I’m stupid enough to think they will just let it go.

“Well?” she probes. “Come on, Savage, last week in California you were happier than I’ve seen you in years, and now you are biting everyone’s head off anytime we talk to you and sulking around like your dog ran away or something. So, what the hell happened?”

She’s too perceptive for her own good sometimes.

I huff out a resigned sigh and lean back in my chair.

“It’s a woman.”

“Ha!” Skye yells. “I knew it!”

I glare at her again. “Shut up, Skye.”

The little brat sticks her tongue out at me and goes right back to eating. For a twenty-seven year old who constantly complains we treat her like a child, she certainly doesn’t do much to change our perception. Sometimes, I swear she’s intentionally childish because she knows she can get away with more that way.

Lord knows, we have been letting her get away with a lot since Star’s death.

“A woman, huh?” I look to my mother, reigning over our Sunday dinner from the head of the table with a glass of red wine in her hand. “Well, that would certainly explain the change in moods.” She gives me a small smile before taking a sip and setting her glass on the table. “You never mentioned you were seeing anyone.”

“That’s because I wasn’t. I’m not. Hell, I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

“Savage!” Storm yelps. “Watch your language in front of Angelina.”

I look over at my niece, but she has her eyes glued to the iPad on the table in front of her and isn’t paying anyone an ounce of attention.

“She didn’t hear me.”

Storm rolls her eyes and gives an exasperated sigh.

Skye chimes in from the other end of the table. “Tell us about the girl.”

Fucking nosy women. I almost miss Stone.

“We met because her sister works for me at the club. She’s an investigative reporter for the
Times
. We went to dinner the Friday before we all went out for Stone’s graduation.”