Hawk’s Property(20)

* * *

When Hawk entered the great room, it was nearly midnight, and the smell of alcohol, tobacco, and weed hit him in the face. The room was smoky and dimly-lit, and all around him, brothers and bitches were fucking and sucking. The smell of sex enveloped him. He chatted with several brothers from Wyoming and Nebraska, guys he hadn’t seen in a long time. The camaraderie was good, comfortable and familiar. This was his life, his family. It was where he belonged: a shot of Jack, Moonshine Bandits’ “For the Outlawz” rockin’ through the speakers, his brothers all around him. This was the life he loved.

There were a lot of hot, new women that night. A big party like that always brought out a shitload of women. It never ceased to amaze Hawk how easy it was to get one, and how these bitches threw themselves at him. He could have any woman he wanted without a problem, except for Cara, and it pissed him off because he knew she wanted him. He saw it in her flushed face when he was near her and felt it when she quivered under his touch, but it was the dark ache that burned in her eyes which convinced him that she desired him.

Yet she resisted. Hawk sensed that she struggled with some do-what-is-expected bullshit, but her body, and the way it responded to him, told him that she needed him just as fucking much as he needed her. Fuck, I bet she’s a wildcat in bed.

As he looked around the room, emptiness grabbed hold of Hawk, and he wished Cara were with him. No, he wished Cara were hanging with him at his house; he wanted to take her out to dinner or a movie and spend time with her. Fuck, what am I thinking? I fuck, but I don’t date. This woman makes me want to break all my rules.

Hawk threw back his shot, waved to Jerry behind the bar, and left the clubhouse. He revved up his Harley, speeding away into the darkness.

* * *

Sitting on her porch with a cup of coffee in her hand, Cara savored the peacefulness that Saturday mornings brought. As she did every morning, she thought of Hawk. She wondered if he had screwed one of the women who hung out at biker clubs the night before. She wasn’t too sure what went on during the parties, but she had heard stories, and that made her worry.

Hawk was a woman magnet, and every time she was with him, she noticed women checking out his broad chest and firm ass. At his last court hearing, the court clerk and the bailiff both kept staring at his ass every time he bent over, and even in his orange jumpsuit, he looked hot. Watching the two ladies rake their eyes over his fine body, he’d flashed them a smile, dimples and all. He was such a flirt. Of course, the women melted, giggling and smiling at him. It was damn annoying.

Cara was sure the women who hung out at the club were more than willing to please Hawk any time he wanted it. He probably screwed several of them last night. The reality was the guy was horny, and all he ever wanted to do was kiss her or talk about fucking her. Whenever she tried to have a serious talk with him, his mind was always on her pussy, and he was so demanding. Most guys who acted like that were full of bullshit, but she knew that wasn’t the case with him.

She hoped he hadn’t slept with anyone, but she knew she was being ridiculous. After all, they weren’t dating, or anything. Still, she didn’t want to think of him with other women. She heard bikers were notorious for screwing around and not thinking twice about it, and she bet that Hawk had a past littered with satisfied women. On the flipside, Cara had only had two lovers: an awkward, quick bang in the backseat of her high school boyfriend’s Mustang after her graduation party, and Trevor, the guy she thought was her soulmate.

Hawk had probably broken many hearts over the years, and even though the women who hung out at the clubs knew the score, they must fall for some of the guys. Although, she couldn’t imagine any woman melting his heart since Hawk was so closed off. She perceived that he was interested in her, but she wasn’t stupid enough to think she would ever matter to him beyond a good lay.

Her phone rang, and she hoped it was Hawk calling to apologize for his atrocious behavior the other night in the restaurant’s parking lot. She looked down at the screen and saw it was Luke. She thought about letting it ring through, but figured that would be rude.

“Hi, Cara, how’s it going?” Luke’s cheerful voice grated her nerves, and she wasn’t sure why.

“Fine. Just hanging on the porch, enjoying this beautiful weather.”

“Do you have plans for Labor Day?”

“Going to my parents’. The family always has a big cookout. You know, tons of relatives and that sort of thing.”

“Sounds fun. I’m not doing anything. I usually go water rafting, but this year I’m not up for it.”

Grasping that Luke was hinting for an invite, she changed the subject. “My dad told me you handled the negotiations on the Cooper Mine Investments’ case real well. Good for you.” Cara imagined Luke’s chest puffing out.

“Thanks, I worked real hard on it. I’m glad your dad noticed my efforts. What are you doing tonight?”

“I have plans, remember? I told you, I’m going out with Sherrie.”

“I don’t know what you see in her. You’re both so different.”

“You don’t even know her, and she’s my best friend. Don’t even think of talking trash about her, Luke.”

He sighed. “Are you going to ask me to go with you to the Boys Hope charity event in a couple of Saturdays?”

“Uh—yeah, okay. You want to go?”

“I’d love to. Your dad bought a table, right?”

Cara rolled her eyes; Luke’s ass-kissing was too transparent. “Uh-huh.”

“Great, we’ll have a good time.”

“Yeah, right. I gotta go now. Let’s connect next week, okay?”

“You don’t want to see me on Labor Day?” he whined.

“Won’t work. It’s a family thing, you know. We’ll talk soon. Bye.”

Cara hung up the phone, wishing she would have let his call go to voicemail. Hawk was right; Luke was a pansy-ass. Cara laughed. She should’ve been furious at Hawk for the way he acted in the restaurant’s parking lot, but she wasn’t, and his possessiveness and confidence turned her on. It had taken all her strength not to fling her arms around his neck and kiss him that night. Why can’t I get him out of my mind? It’s driving me crazy. And why in the hell doesn’t he call me?

Standing up to get another cup of coffee, Cara’s spotted the manila envelope on the table. Realizing that the pre-raid photographs were in there, she opened it up. A wide smile broke over her face as she scanned the pictures. She screamed out, “Yes!” while picking up her phone to call Asher.

When he answered, she blurted out, “There isn’t an ammo box on the table in the pre-raid photographs! I’ve got this.”

“Way to go, Cara. That’s awesome news. Badass Biker will be happy, if that word can ever be used to describe him. Does he ever get rid of his scowl?”

Cara chuckled. “Yeah, he does, and he will be pleased. I think I’ll go over to the clubhouse tonight after dinner and tell him.”

“Why don’t you call him?”

“He deserves to get this news in person. I’m filing a motion to dismiss on Tuesday and requesting a hearing. This is great.”

“Do you think it’s wise to go alone to a biker clubhouse on a Saturday night? I think you should pass and go tomorrow. Sunday is probably tamer.”

“I’m not worried. I know Hawk and a few of the guys. I’ll just be there for a few minutes. It’ll be cool.”

“I’m not so sure. You want me to come with you?”

“Don’t be silly. You’re going to Aspen tonight. Have a good time and don’t worry about me.”

“Okay, be careful.”

“Sure. Have fun, and I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

Realizing she had a ton of things to do before she met Sherrie for dinner, Cara made herself go into the house. She couldn’t wait to see Hawk, and this was the perfect excuse for her to seek him out. Disappointed that he hadn’t contacted her, she could still tell him the good news about the recent discovery of what the pre-raid photos contained and see him without losing any pride. This worked out in her favor all the way around. She was going to see Hawk, and a delicious shudder heated her body.





Chapter Eleven





“Where the hell is this damn place?” Cara muttered. She must have gone up and down Highway 295 several times, and she had yet to see the clubhouse. It didn’t help that it was pitch-black out, either. The clubhouse was twenty-five miles out of town and she figured it would be inconspicuous, but this was ridiculous. She could call Hawk, but she wanted to surprise him, which meant finding this on her own.

After the fifth time driving south on the highway, she spotted five motorcycles ahead of her and had a hunch they were going to the Insurgents’ clubhouse. She followed them, and sure enough, they turned left down a small dirt road she never would’ve found. After following them for about two miles, Cara’s brows knit and a quiver rippled in her stomach. Asher might have been right about the foolishness of her idea.

Just as she was ready to turn around, a three-story, brick building set back among the trees with a tall, chain-link fence surrounding it came into view. The Harleys she followed turned into the enormous parking lot, and she veered her sports car into the area, parking to the far-left side. As she switched off her ignition, her doubts intensified. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Looking over at the gate, she saw a group of men wearing leather jackets with the Insurgents MC patch on the back, and with bottom rockers stating “Nebraska,” “Wyoming,” and “Colorado.” The men were sitting on their Harleys, drinking beers and laughing as they talked.