Page 80 of Isaac

I shut my eyes and try to focus on the numbers I need to run for this new project the family is interested in, but my thoughts keep drifting to Hawk like a moth to a flame.

I can't deny it anymore—there's something going on between us. The need to see him again is gnawing at me like a rabid beast, threatening to tear me apart if I don't succumb. My grip tightens around the pen, and I realize that I'm not getting anything done.I need fresh air, something to clear my head and help me regain control over my erratic thoughts.

"Fuck it," I mutter under my breath, pushing away from the desk. I stride through the door and into the hallway, making my way toward the bank of elevators.

The minute my fingers hover about to press the button, the doors breathe open with a swish, revealing Hawk. His gym bag is casually draped over one shoulder. The plain black T-shirt clinging to his broad chest and sinewy arms is almost a casual dare for you not to notice him, not to notice how fucking perfect he is.

Our gazes lock, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

The silence between us stretches and becomes something agonizing.

"Hey," he finally says, his voice low and steady, yet I detect a hint of nervousness in his tone.

"Hey," I reply, stepping into the elevator.

Hawk's eyes pierce through me like a sharpened blade and I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through my veins. The inexplicable craving for him threatens to consume me now that he’s so close.

Without thinking, I move forward, shoving Hawk against the elevator wall just as the doors close behind us.

"Isaac," he whispers, his eyes widen a little but not with shock. It’s something else, something darker, more primal. "Someone can see us."

"No, they won’t," I whisper harshly, and draw back for a second, just long enough to stab furiously at the button on the bottom of the panel to halt the elevator. "How about this?" I ask, leaning into him, until our faces are less than an inch apart.

"People may want to use the elevator."

"There’s another one," I shoot back. "Plus, we own the building. I'll delete the security footage."

His mouth twists. Something like a hint of a smile makes an appearance. "I guess I can’t argue with that."

I feel the warmth of his breath on my lips when he speaks and it takes every ounce of self-control not to close the remaining fraction of space between our mouths.

Instead, I reach out, fingers brushing against his freshly shaved cheek, my thumb tracing the faint trace of the scar that's almost gone, then the curve of his jaw. "Move into the hotel permanently," I say.

"I’m already spending most of my work nights here."

"You don’t need to pay for a shitty apartment if you can live here for free."

"Fuck, Isaac." Hawk shuts his eyes for a moment. "What else do want me to do?"

"Everything," I rasp out, pressing myself against him, burying my nose into the crook of his neck where a few strands of silky black hair that slipped from his ponytail rest over his skin. My body hums in response to his proximity. It’s like I’m a magnet and he’s the ferromagnet surface.

"You sure about that?" Hawk asks, his tone teasing all of sudden. "Because I don't come cheap, you know, Sugar Daddy."

"I’m younger than you," I state. "Don’t you ever use that word with me." I bite into his neck, sink my teeth into his skin as a form of punishment.

His breath catches in his throat and I can feel it, can feel him melting and tensing from my touch.

"Okay," he whispers.

"Otherwise, I don't care what you call me," I reply, pulling back a little to look at his face again. "As long as you're here with me, safe and protected. Things are going to get rough, Hawk. I need you to be ready for that."

"I am," he says.

"So, you'll move in here?"

"Can I think about it?"

The next morning, I find myself standing outside Hawk's hotel suite, a pair of steaming coffees trembling in my grasp. It’s still early and the sun is lazily stitching its path across the horizon, veiling the cityscape in gossamer hues of coral and vermilion.

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