Page 117 of Filthy Love

Her aching inner thighs were a stark reminder.

Grace Kelly cackled on the other end. “Oh, you bad girl! Is he still there? You had an overnight guest I take it and I can guess which brooding crush it is. Tell me everything.”

“I’m not gonna do that.” Gia felt her cheeks heat. Not that she wouldn’t tell her best friend everything, or most of it anyway, at another time, just not when Hawk was sleeping inches away from her. “You called to confess your dirty soul, Gia. I know you. So, go ahead, I grabbed a morning coffee, you can tell Gracie all the nice details of how your biker rocked your brains out by hitting your cervix like he was trying to reset you back to factory setting.”

Giggling to herself, Gia covered her mouth. Stole another glance at him.

“He was good to you?”

“God, yes.” She sighed. How good he’d been to her. So incredibly good nearly to the detriment of his own pleasure which he held off for longer than she imagined any other man would.

Attentive was not even the word.

It was then a hand came through the sheets and palmed her belly making her jump. That same hand moved up and cupped her bare boob and encouraged her nipple into hardening.

Oh, god.

Her eyes sought out Hawk’s to find those drowsy almost too pale eyes half-mast trained on her.

“I have to go, but I’ll call you tonight. Love you.” Phone placed on the bedside table she cleared her voice, turned five different shades pinker as she smiled at him.

“G-good morning, Colton.”

He moved then, tugging the sheet away from her chest he kissed first her upper arm and then down between the valley of her boobs. Entirely captivated in his reverent, purposeful exploration of the top half of her body.

“Since you’re still in bed and not at the door with my boots in hand ready to kick me out, I figure you want me here, little bit.” He spoke around her boob, sucking and licking and besides it feeling completely amazing, she was swept off her feet by the declaration that she stole her fingers into his soft, tangled mane and made him groan when they scratched over his scalp.

She’d discovered during the night hours of lovemaking Hawk enjoyed being scratched everywhere.

He thought she’d kick him out?

Silly man would never learn her feelings for him were genuine and deep as the ocean.

“Who were you declaring love to?”

“My best friend Grace Kelly.”

He popped her nipple out of his mouth, looked up, brow cocked. “You talking to the dead now?”

She laughed and began to explain her friendship.

“Tell me later.” His voice like grit interrupted, he flattened her to the messy bed causing a riot of butterflies to stampede through her nerves.

His morning voice was scratchy and rustic, sexy as hell.

Gia died a little inside for all the days and years already lost to them.

Arousal truly altered Hawk.

He was calmer somehow. Less unapproachable. Nicer. Sexier. Hornier. And hers.

Sighing dreamy, Gia melted underneath his weight.

Crawling above her, kneeing her legs wider was the man of her dreams.

Muscles flexed in his forearms. His abs like slabs of concrete and she had no words for his cock. Proud and thick and so long her mouth watered.

Desire made her purr. The weight of him was delicious as he found his place and settled down between her legs. He looked like a fierce, unruly fighter about to go to war and Gia was hoping her body was his battle ground.

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