Hawk’s Property(13)

“Fuck,” Banger muttered. “I can’t have Hawk do time.”

“I’m not doing shit,” Hawk growled.

“If a warrant goes out, you’ll have to surrender yourself,” Cara said.

Hawk stared at her. For the briefest moment, Cara saw a flicker of worry, but it passed as soon as it came. She reached out and placed her hand on top of his. “Don’t worry; I’ll get all this straightened out. I’m convinced this is a frame job. I haven’t figured out why, but it is.”

Hawk jerked away from her. “I don’t go in for that pity shit, babe. Again, I’m not doing any time.”

“If you don’t surrender, it’ll make things worse. If you listen to me and let me guide you, I can help. Don’t be a macho tool on this, Hawk. If you do, you’ll be screwed.” Locking in on Banger, her eyes pleaded with him.

Clearing his throat, Banger barked, “Listen to your lawyer. I can’t lose any more brothers to the asshole badges.”

Looking at Hawk, Jax said, “If this was me instead of you, what would you tell me? Would you tell me to listen to her or be a dickhead and think I know better?”

Hawk narrowed his eyes, body rigid, hands clenched into fists. He looked at Cara, snarling, “Fuck, you’re the boss.” She smiled. “But only for this, babe. Remember that.”

She wanted to slap his face but didn’t think a lawyer should do that to her client, especially in front of witnesses. He was maddening, but at least he was going to follow her lead. That was a start.

“I’m not goin’ to some shitty motel, though. I’ll go to the safe house.”

Banger and Jax nodded in agreement. Shrugging, Cara nodded along with them. She didn’t care where he went as long as he stayed out of sight until she could figure out the warrant status. Since it was settled, unease crept around her as she sat on the porch with her three guests; she didn’t entertain bikers. Maybe she should’ve offered them beer instead of her homemade lemonade? And Hawk wasn’t making things any easier with his intense stare boring into her. She shifted in her wicker chair.

Jagged lines of lightning flashed against the darkening sky and thunder rumbled as the sky opened up, dropping torrents of rain and hail. The trees groaned as the wind bent their branches. Cara’s dress swept up under a gust of cool wind, and, rushing to the screen door, she yelled, “Come on in.”

Inside, a welcoming living room greeted them—hardwood floors and an open floor plan made the house seem modern in spite of its 1920s architectural designs. Post-modern and impressionist artwork adorned the pale yellow walls, and built-in bamboo bookcases held leather-bound books. The pillowy sofa and chairs by the fireplace lent an air of coziness to the room.

Cara gestured for the guys to sit down. Their blue jeans, leather boots, and patched cuts didn’t blend in with her casual, yet chic décor, and she stifled a giggle—they looked so out of place.

Breaking the silence, Banger said, “What smells so good?”

“Yeah, it’s like we’re in an Italian restaurant, or something,” Jax agreed.

Smiling, Cara nodded toward her gourmet kitchen. “I’m making meat sauce for tomorrow’s dinner. My family usually has Sunday dinner together, and I’m having it here.”

“If it tastes anything like it smells, that’ll be one helluva dinner.” Banger licked his lips.

“I’ve made a ton. Do you want to have dinner? I was going to make pasta and a salad. You’re more than welcome to join me.”

“If it didn’t smell so good, I’d pass, but I gotta try that sauce. Spaghetti’s always been my favorite. Do you have meatballs, too?” Banger was practically salivating.

“Meatballs, too. Let me grab you guys some beer and I’ll start dinner.” Cara handed the remote control to Jax. “You can watch TV while I get dinner going. I’ll bring out some munchies. It’ll take a while to boil the pasta.”

Cara jumped up from the chair and shuffled into the kitchen. After pulling out three beers from the fridge, she turned around and crashed into a wall of muscled chest. Cedar, leather, and musk scents enveloped her while two of the beer bottles slipped from her hand. Hawk caught them before they shattered on the hardwood floor.

“I—I didn’t expect you to be behind me.”

Hawk took the third bottle from her, leaned in close, and whispered, “I love being behind you, babe. I love looking at your sweet ass.” His breath was hot against her ear, making her stomach flutter.

All of a sudden, the room seemed hot and stuffy. He licked her earlobe then turned around, and headed back into the living room. Cara watched his tall, ripped figure. He was beautiful—breathtaking. He made her giddy and nervous at the same time. Why did she always revert to acting like a lovesick fourteen-year-old whenever he came into her space?

Shaking her head, Cara made a vow to work on not letting him get under her skin. After all, she was an independent and professional woman. If she could endure Professor Pratt’s Property Law class and put up with Judge Reese’s courtroom tantrums, she could handle Hawk, the sexy biker. Right?

As Cara prepared the garlic bread, she heard one of the breakfast stools scrape against the floor and whirled around, meeting Hawk’s stare. She raised her eyebrows at him. “What are you staring at?”

He didn’t answer, just continued staring. Deciding she was tired of his intimidation games, she ignored him and went over to the cupboard next to the breakfast island to grab a salad bowl. His eyes followed her every move, making her muscles twitch and her mouth go dry. Turning around, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then jumped when Hawk’s arm encircled her waist, tugging her into him. His erection pressed against her lower back and he threaded his fingers through her hair, moving it to the side to kiss her neck gently.

Insides sizzling, she almost dropped the salad bowl her aunt had given her. His feathery kisses grew harder, more demanding, and her nerves burst into a thousand electric shocks as her red lace panties grew damp. Trembling under his mouth’s assault, Hawk grasped her neck’s tender flesh between his teeth and bit and sucked it hard. Crap, he’s trying to give me a hickey. Panic seizing her, Cara twisted in a feeble attempt to pull her neck away. “Hawk, don’t leave a mark on me. Don’t do it!”

Laughing against her skin, he resumed sucking but Cara, using all her strength, squirmed out of his embrace, only to have him haul her back into him.

In a low, deep voice, he said, “I wanna see your tattoo. I never figured you’d go in for one, especially a low back stamp. I wanna see your ass with all the ink on it. Fuck, you’re so hot. My cock wants in so badly, babe.”

She leaned into him and rubbed her ass against him, and he moaned. Her panties were drenched.

“Teasing me, baby? Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish. I know if I put my fingers on your pussy, you’d be wet, right?”

Cara squeezed her eyes closed as she whimpered. Crap… I can’t believe I’m getting turned on by what he’s saying. Go figure; another surprise.

“Are those munchies comin’?” Banger’s voice sliced through their desire.

While Hawk nuzzled her neck, it dawned on her that Banger and Jax had seen their kitchen sexcapade. Mortified about the two guys in the other room having a front row seat, she twisted away from Hawk, her face red. She glared daggers at Hawk, warning him not to come one step toward her, and then pointed her finger at the stool and mouthed, “Sit and stay seated!”

He sauntered over to the stool, sat down, and resumed his staring game.

Cara tossed her head at Hawk, then walked into the living room. She placed the platter of sliced salami, mozzarella, cherry peppers, and crispy breadsticks on the glass-top coffee table in front of Banger and Jax as they watched car racing on the television. Red streaks marked her cheeks as Jax grinned; she averted her gaze and hurried back to the kitchen.

Hawk stood up when she came into the kitchen. “Don’t even think it,” she hissed.

He sat back down, continuing to watch the way her curvy body moved as she cooked, and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him fussing with his crotch. Turning to face him, she noticed he had a hard-on. His smoldering eyes told her that he wanted to relieve his dilemma, and she was his choice of the hour. Flashing him an in-your-dreams look, Cara went back to her cooking.

“What is this?” a voice from the living room boomed. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?”

Hawk sprang to his feet and placed his hand on the knife hidden under his cut as Banger and Jax assumed poses. Cara, flustered, ran into the living room, and as Hawk tried to hold her back, she jerked away.

“Eric, what’s the matter?” she asked, concern creasing her forehead.

A six-foot-tall man with a slim build looked in her direction. He had sandy brown hair and brown eyes, and his skin was pale with red blotches flecking his cheeks and chin. He had an umbrella in his hand. “What’s going on?”

“Hold on, there. Who we are and what we’re doing here is none of your fuckin’ business.” Jax stepped menacingly toward Eric.

Dismissing Jax with his hand, the man said, “I was speaking to Cara. What’s going on here?”