Banger’s Ride(145)

“I care very much about you, Cara. You know that, right?”

Nodding, she continued watching the town streak past her, thinking back on the restaurant incident. Hawk was so mad it scared her. If she hadn’t stopped him, Luke would be riding in an ambulance on the way to the hospital, and Hawk’s ass would be in jail. Goosebumps pebbled her skin; Hawk’s intensity intrigued and frightened her. She wished Hawk would reach out to her as a confidant. Listening was one of her strong suits, and so many of her clients confided their darkest secrets to her. I doubt that he trusts anyone. He has such a shield around him.

Cara wondered if she’d ever get to meet Hawk, the man, or would she only know Hawk, the sexy biker?

* * *

As Luke’s car disappeared down the street, Hawk slammed his fist against a customer’s car and kicked the tire while holding back the urge to destroy the Lexus. He couldn’t believe he’d seen her with that pansy asshole. Damn her! What the fuck was she doing playing kissy-face in the parking lot with that fuck?

Of course, she would be with Mr. Three-Piece Asshole. Hawk knew he was right—she thought he was beneath her. Oh, he was fine to grope in the confines of her office, behind closed doors, but in public—no way. She wouldn’t be seen with him because he wasn’t some high-bred fuck like the pansy-ass. Fuck her. Why was he even bothering with her?

And she left with that ass. That was the worst of it. She left him standing there while she drove off with the wimp-ass suit. She was probably going to have a polite fuck, and Hawk would bet the asshole’s polo shirt wouldn’t be wrinkled afterwards.

His temples throbbed and his chest tightened. She better not fuck that asshole. Once Hawk got her where she needed to be, he’d give her a good spanking for pissing him off and dissing him like that. But thinking about her firm, rounded ass, red with his handprint, was giving him a hard-on in the parking lot. Yep, she’s in my fuckin’ blood. He slammed his fist harder on the Lexus’ hood.

“Let’s go, man. Ain’t no bitch worth this shit,” Banger said.

“And it’s not good for business to ruin the customers’ cars while they’re eatin’,” Jax joked.

But Hawk wasn’t in a joking mood. He wanted to get drunk. Maybe he’d even fuck one of the club whores and show that stuck-up Cara he didn’t need her pussy—there was plenty of it around.

“Let’s go get some shots at the clubhouse,” Hawk said.

“Now you’re talkin’,” Banger agreed.


At the clubhouse, Hawk sat at the bar, downing shot after shot as he tried to force the image of Cara’s long legs wrapped around that pansy-ass’s waist out of his mind. Jerry leaned over the bar and said, “Hawk, there’s one hot slut checking you out.”

Hawk looked over in the direction Jerry was pointing, and for a split-second, he thought Cara was standing there. His heart raced and blood rushed to his temples as he stared at her. She was near the pool table, and her long, chestnut-colored hair shone under the colored lights. She wore a short skirt and a revealing top, her big tits falling out. One of the members, Billy, had his hand up her skirt, rubbing her pussy, and the way the slut squirmed and rotated her hips, Hawk knew Billy had his fingers inside her. As Billy’s hand moved faster, she parted her lips, clenching and moaning while staring straight at Hawk. Damn, that’s fuckin’ hot.

Facing the bar again, Hawk slammed his shot glass on the counter and Jerry filled it up. He loved the way whiskey warmed his core, which was the problem with Cara—she was his shot of whiskey. Ah, fuck.

As he staggered toward the staircase, the chestnut-haired bitch came up to him, putting her arms around him and kissing him deeply. She tasted like beer with lime. Looking at her through his unfocused eyes, Hawk kissed her back, playing with her tongue and squeezing her big tits. Melding herself into him, she rubbed his bulging cock. He closed his bloodshot eyes; in his mind, he was kissing Cara, stroking her tits, rubbing her wet mound.

“Cara, baby, I can’t wait to fuck you. I’ve been waitin’ too long for you,” he slurred.

“My name’s Jessica, sweetie.”

“What?” Hawk’s eyes opened, realizing this woman wasn’t his babe. “You’re not Cara.”

“I can be whoever you want me to be.” She pressed her lips to his again.

Hawk pried her off him. “Wrong girl. My mistake.”

He zigzagged toward the stairway and ascended to his room. Not bothering to take off his clothes, Hawk threw off his boots and flopped on his bed, and with images of wet pussies, big tits, and Cara’s beautiful green eyes dancing through his head, he fell asleep.