Page 10 of Filthy Love

“This one must get all her smarts from Annie. It’s not from you, Dog.” Laughed Jace, though she barely heard a word of praise for her mom.

What with her eyes locked on the big, blond brute straddling a bar stool. Part way facing the room he had a black boot braced on the floor, the other was on the stool rung.

Jesus.

His massive body was just …sprawled.

Big, beautiful and just present.

A little dirty, a little angry. All masculine.

The first hit of Hawk was always staggering, especially long periods of not seeing him.

His shoulders seemed more defined, like you could cut glass on them and carry a donkey on each one with no exertion at all.

People came up to greet her. Gia smiled and said her hello’s, all the while her eyes were on Hawk.

And then he turned.

Just raised that blond head and stared directly at her as if he’d been waiting for the optimum time to clash gazes.

Gia took everything in. From his long, tapping fingers. The cant of his head. The way his thick hair brushed his shoulders and met up with the messy beard.

She wished she could see his mouth under all that hair.

But his eyes.

Oh, dear god. His eyes.

Crystals.

As a woman, there’s not a more intoxicating feeling in the world than being visually undressed by the man you crave. Pure lust warmed her body until her fingertips tingled.

One of the older men asked about her work and she tried, she really tried to smile and give him an answer that made some sense, so she could give him the chance to reply and let her look back at Hawk.

He was still watching her!

Oh, god.

Her knees were jelly.

She felt the blush as she smiled a little and gave her bag a lift on her arm though it didn’t need it.

The fire was licking her all over.

Arousal and all those banked feelings for him were there as always.

Bigger. Bolder.

For years she’d wanted this man and it never wavered.

It was present and as new as it had been on day one.

He looked so introspective, she thought.

He was about as opposite as the men she’d dated as he could get. Where they wore suits and four hundred-dollar shoes, Hawk was in simple denim jeans that clung without being tight. A sleeveless blackMisfitsT-shirt, the front of it tucked into his jeans, his leather vest all the bikers wore, and a chain hanging out of his pocket.

Had a man been sexier?

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