Someone had selected AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” on the jukebox. The hard rock beats filled the bar, and patrons began swaying and singing along to the song.
Hawk pulled Cara off the bar stool. “Let’s dance.”
He twirled her around and she broke free, a smile lighting up her face. Cara loved to dance. AC/DC was one of her favorite bands, and their hard-hitting rhythms made her sway and shake her hips and shoulders. Dancing released all the tension she had been feeling since she’d first entered the bar. Glancing at Hawk, his burning gaze made her move faster to the music; she wanted to avoid it and the pull he had on her. As she banged her head to each beat, her long hair flew around her.
At the end of the song, sweat glistened upon Cara’s body and her black knit top clung to her large breasts. Gathering her hair on top of her head, she let the air cool her damp neck. After that dance, her body tingled with energy. It was what she needed to get rid of some of her pent-up tension. She was back in control. She liked being in control. She started to go back to her seat when Hawk grabbed her hand and pressed her into him. “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” was playing.
At the contact, Cara tensed all over again. Her mouth turned dry and a subtle shakiness invaded her limbs.
“I don’t bite. Well, I do, but I promise I won’t this time.” Hawk dropped her hand, put both of his arms around her waist, and pulled her tightly into him. She tentatively circled her arms around his neck. Hawk cupped the back of her head and laid her cheek against him. She wasn’t sure if she liked dancing so close to him, considering what she’d overheard him say to the bartender earlier. Deciding he was just engaging in “man talk,” she thought she’d give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he did come to her rescue, and so far, he had been behaving himself. Maybe she’d misjudged him, and maybe he wasn’t such a jerk. Tentatively, she let herself breathe in his maleness.
Cara’s head rose and fell with Hawk’s breathing as he held her. Quivers ran up her spine as his hands moved up and down her back. It had been a long time since her body had reacted to a man’s touch. Since her ex-fiancé had betrayed her a few weeks before their wedding, Cara had built a stone wall around her emotions where men were concerned. It had been four years since she had felt anything toward a man. But in this biker’s arms, with her head against his beating heart, her body let her down. Her stomach was queasy, her nerves on edge, and a sweet sensation was forming between her legs. After all this time, why did her body choose this man and this place to try to break through the wall she’d erected?
Hawk was not the type of guy Cara was normally attracted to. She liked the preppy, debonair type, not tattooed, pierced men in leather. However, she was drawn to this biker. His incredible blue eyes and his rough edges pulled her in like a moth to a flame. His scent, cloves laced with motor oil, caressed her; warmness spread from her legs to her head. The earlier tension dissipated, and she found herself relaxing and losing herself in the music, in the moment. She looped her arms around his neck as she brought herself closer to his body.
Hawk held her, swaying from side to side. Bending down, he peppered kisses along her neck, taking her earlobe into his mouth and licking it while moving his teeth against its softness. She tried stifling her gasp; the last thing she wanted was for this stranger to know the effect he was having on her. She tilted her head back and looked into his eyes. A sheen of lust met her startled gaze. Once more, Hawk lowered his head and brought his mouth toward hers. Turning her head, Cara stiffened in his arms. He tried to kiss her again, but she resisted, murmuring her protests into his chest.
“What’s wrong, baby? A mouth as luscious as yours needs to be kissed,” he whispered in her ear.
His words shimmied down her neck and landed right in the pit of her fluttering stomach. Looking at him, she answered honestly, “I don’t know you.”
“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? To get to know each other better? You’re one hot babe, and you have the prettiest green eyes I’ve ever seen.” He brushed his lips against her cheek. “Aren’t you going to let me in?” His mouth was dangerously close.
Before Cara could respond, Hawk’s mouth was on hers, gently sucking her lips. His tongue pushed against the seam, demanding it to open. She froze, her leg muscles tightened, and an overpowering urge to flee consumed her. Her clammy hands pushed against Hawk’s chest in a desperate attempt to put some distance between them. Things were moving too fast. Dancing and holding each other was okay—safe—but kissing? No, that was dangerous.
Certain she would be nothing but a one-night stand, she couldn’t risk being hurt. Even though her body was betraying her, her mind was acutely aware of the danger the sexy biker posed for her. Hawk was bad news, and she couldn’t let herself falter. The earlier fluttering in her stomach turned to heaviness.
“What’s going on, baby?” Hawk brought his lips to hers again.
“I don’t want to. Please, I really don’t.” As Cara struggled, Hawk held her tighter.
“Come on, baby, I know you want this. I sure do.” Running his nose against her jaw, his stubble scratched her face.
“I don’t.” Panic seized her and her heart raced, nearly exploding. Twisting away, she gasped, “Please, stop. I don’t appreciate being mauled by you.”
Anger shone in his eyes and he stiffened like a wooden board. It was as if she had thrown a bucket of ice water on him. “Baby, I don’t maul women. It’s usually the other way around.”
“I only meant I don’t like pushy guys. We’re having a nice dance. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”
“Whatever….” He put his arms around her waist again, but rigidity replaced the ease with which he’d held her before. This time, Hawk didn’t place her head against his heart. She couldn’t wait until the song was over so she could get away from this brooding man who made her body respond to his touch.
At last, the song ended and Cara quickly disengaged from Hawk. “Thanks, it was nice,” she mumbled as she made her way toward her seat. Hawk gripped her arm and swung her into his hard chest. His mouth crushed hers. As she opened her mouth to object, his tongue slipped in, getting lost in her heat. Her body naturally leaned into his. Crap! Why doesn’t my body stop acting like this? Willing herself to push him away, she broke free of him.
“You taste good, baby.” Smiling, he licked his lips.
Before she could answer, Sherrie slammed into Cara. “Sorry, Car. I don’t feel so good. I just puked. We gotta go.”
Grateful for an excuse to get away from this mesmerizing man, Cara took Sherrie by the hand. “Sure, let’s go.” She glanced at Hawk.
“Do you need any help? How are you girls gonna get home?”
“I drove. We’re good, thanks.” Cara put her arm around her friend and walked toward the door. Sherrie leaned against her. Realizing it was impossible to help Sherrie and walk in four-inch heels, Cara glanced back at Hawk. Looking amused, a half-smile dancing on his lips, he came over and put his arm around Sherrie. Cara’s jaw stiffened; she hated having to rely on him for help.
“Let me get your friend in your car.”
With a pinched expression, she sighed. “Thanks.”
Hawk, holding a not-so-steady Sherrie in his arms, followed Cara to her black Mercedes-Benz. He whistled. “Nice set of wheels. You got a sugar daddy?”
Ignoring his remarks, Cara said, “You can put Sherrie over here.” She opened the passenger door.
When Sherrie was safely in the car, Cara started to open the driver’s door, but Hawk tugged her around. She was shocked once again when Hawk took her mouth and kissed her deeply. Tremors shook her body when the kiss ended, and he brought a handful of her hair to his lips, kissed it, then rubbed its silkiness against his cheek. He leaned into her, his hardness pressing against her stomach.
“I have to go. I don’t want Sherrie to puke all over my car,” Cara said with a laugh. She had to get away from him before she did something she’d regret.
“Can you come back? I can follow you and help you with your friend, and then we can get to know each other even better.” He nuzzled into her hair.
“No, no, that won’t work. I have to go.”
“Fuck, baby, don’t leave me wanting you. Let’s have a little fun before you take off.”
“I have to go. Thanks for helping me with Sherrie.”
“If you have to go, then go.” Hawk’s jaw clenched.
“I do have to go.”
Silence followed. Cara opened her car door, but she paused when Hawk gripped her arm, saying, “What’s your number? Maybe we could hook up sometime.”
Cara wanted to get far away from Hawk. Being with him was like riding on a runaway train. Not in the mood to argue, and certain that Hawk would not walk away empty-handed, she took out a tissue from her purse, scribbled a phone number, and put it in his hands. Closing her car door, Cara waved to him as she drove away.
* * *
The red tail lights disappeared into the night. Back in the bar once more, Hawk ordered another beer. A blonde with a tight t-shirt and denim Daisy Dukes came up to him. He recognized her as a hoodrat—the girls who came to the clubhouse to party with the brothers. He couldn’t remember her name, but he remembered she liked it rough.