Page 170 of Filthy Love

Even a stupid man could recognize love in everything she gave him.

What a lucky bastard he was.

She smiled up at him, flickered dainty fingers across his chin and jaw. The touch of an angel grounding him.

“I’m terrified I’ll lose you, little bit. You’ll see all of me and you’ll realize what a wasted prick I am. Don’t say anything, it’s in my head now, nothing you say will can rewire my fucked-up thoughts. Never wanted to be normal, until now. I always imagined the agony of never having you and wanting you from afar was the worst kind of torture. But I know now it’s having you and watching you walk away that will kill me.”

Each day she was fixing her perfect self somewhere in his fucked-up puzzle.

And it didn’t suck.

“Nope,” she smiled. “Never going to happen. You think I’ve waited all this time to climb you like a tree only to let you go weeks later?” Her smile flourished sending light into her eyes, and she poked his ribs making him squirm. Fuck. This woman undid him. “Never happening, dude. So, get over yourself. You’re my future baby-daddy, even if you screw your face up at the thought of kids, it’s happening one day.”

He exhaled hard. Shit. He’d probably do it too. Poor fucking kid having him for a father. Least it would have Gia when he screwed up.

Hawk knew how much she was compromising for him because he was an unstable piece of shit.

And he was letting her.

Because he was too much of a pussy to let her go.

Couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Now he had to bend and give her what he swore never to talk about again.

“Baby.” She skimmed a kiss hot enough to brand him on his forehead, the love behind it like you’d give to a crying kid. He leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, chugging on her clean, sweet scent. “We’re all imperfect, Colton. We make mistakes, we have people who betray us, who abuse our trust. It’s how we deal with it that matters to us as individuals. I’m right here and you can trust any secret with me. Trust thatI willbe here with you. I want you just as you are. I need you just how you are. I’ll take you just how you are.”

“Kiss me,” he issued in a rolling growl. “Before I vomit up all my crap, kiss me, little bit. Show me you love me like the not-good-enough prick I am who shouldn’t have my hands on you at all, but you’re mine and I need your mouth, your taste saturating me.”

“Hawk…” she all but purred smiling and let him take her lips.

Long, heated, wet consuming kisses. His pulse mimicked the sounds panting out of his woman.

She was everything to Hawk. She had to know that. On some level he hoped she knew that. He wasn’t a prick just because he was born that way. He’d tried to protect her from himself.

With each kiss she gave him, he was bursting alive.

Each smile gave him breath.

He'd needed to die a few times, figuratively, to fully appreciate being her man these past weeks.

To be in Gia’s world ...fuck him...he couldn’t have imagined feeling this good, ever.

When he looked at her, his very fucking shitty existence exploded into atoms of color and trust and understanding.

Slanting his mouth over hers, he dove straight in with slow strikes of his tongue. He took her mouth like it was the last time he’d have her out-of-this-world taste. He gave her grunts, she fed him her sweetness and he was left feeling like she’d given him something more than a kiss. She’d given him yet another piece of herself.

“You are so beautiful, Gia. Perfect and a wonder to me. No matter what happens, you’re the woman who rules me body and soul. Come and sit. I got shit I need to tell you.” Winding his fingers around hers, he led her into the kitchen. He chose the seat opposite. Folded his hands on the table.

“This feels serious suddenly. So, I’ll tell you now I love you, baby, no matter what.”

He hoped she meant it in a few minutes.

There wasn’t any part of Hawk who believed in the garbage like fate and destiny. If that were the case who the fuck would give him the life he’d had so far? Who would write that into his genetic material?

But as he watched Gia, his chin lowered, eyelids at half-mast and his lungs feeling like they were burning from the inside he knew only one thing; she was meant to belong to him.

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