Page 47 of Filthy Love

Hawk was a man of few words but when he spoke those words he usually made them count. He had nothing. No sardonic comeback because she was all up in his space and everything in his brain was either illegal or downright depraved and he had just the right amount of pot high going on to say all that shit and scare the little bit into running off back to her pretty bed with the door bolted behind her too scared to let a monster ram her into a wall with his desperate cock.

One finger caught her under the chin and lifted. “Careful what you ask for.”

Struggling through the mist of longing she created in him, it was easy to let her shuffle forward on her bare feet and crush her chest to his. She was warm and soft and so fucking there for the plucking he didn’t just lose his mind he tossed it across the yard.

There was a lot of reasons why Hawk hated being touched. None of which applied to Gia.

She had her own set of rules he lived by. Or at least, the Gia of his fantasies did. She did whatever the fuck she wanted to him and he allowed it. It was the only time he’d let himself have her.

The real live version seemed to believe along the same lines when she traced down his bare chest with a fingertip. Along the ridges of his belly and up again.

Oh, fuck.He knew what she was touching.

It had gone clean out of his mind.

A dry mouth, just high enough he didn’t care to hide anything. He allowed her to trace the tattoo over his left pec. Under the nipple was an inked wound torn open by barb wire. It coiled half way around his chest to show a bloodied, mangled heart inside the 10-inch wide gaping hole. It was shaded in black and gray and about the only time he’d let someone else touch him and even then, he’d been so fucking stoned he barely remembered it, only describing to the artist what he wanted.

“This looks … traumatic and beautiful.” The fingertip swept left and right.

Coconut filled his nose.

His libido kicked him right in the nuts. He wanted her so badly and she didn’t know how she tormented him.

“I can’t see what this part is.” Without looking he knew she was fingering the inside of the heart. Thank fuck for the moon behind a cloud.

He cleared his throat. “It’s nothing. Time for bed, Gia.”

She giggled, her full palm laid against his sternum. Why did it feel so good?

“Is this where I sayyes daddyagain?”

He growled his frustration, and she giggled again.

“Do you know what I love about the dark and this time of night? It is its own moment out of the ordinary where anything could happen. It’s still and peaceful, almost like you can hear all your wishes in the air. Can you hear your wishes, Hawk?” Lifting her face to the moon he saw her lightly freckled nose reflecting with shadows.

His beautiful little bit was his wish. She was all wishes ever prayed for, hungered over, tormented by. And without thinking he spoke his own truth.

“Yeah, little bit. I do.”

The smile she gave him was enough to spark his nerve endings to life and push enough blood between his legs to keep him hard for months.

The witching hour. He’d heard that said often enough, hadn’t he? When the devil was his most powerful, if you believed that bullshit like his mother did.

He felt the night envelope them. As if they were the only two people left. It might be the pot talking, but he felt pretty good about that. He’d hunt and gather for her, wouldn’t he?

Gia didn’t speak, just kept right on looking up at him, her fingers dancing over the tattoo, her touch burning in all the good ways he never thought possible.

I'm a man among boys, that's who you need.

She’d talked about losing her virginity in a pithy way. And somehow, he knew she’d had more experience in relationships than him, mainly because he’d had none to speak of and maybe just in his own twisted thoughts he knew because the only relationship he’d wanted was with her, if he’d been capable.

But he was far from worthy.

Hawk saw Gia needed a man to make her feel good.

He could do that much.

He’d work his fucking balls to dust to make sure she feltgood. The little bit of a girl who was no taller than his breastbone and who had the most expressive dark blue eyes that bore a hole down to his spleen, needed a man to explore that hunger lurking under her lashes.

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