Down & Dirty: Hawk (Dirty Angels MC Book 3) Page 6
“Never?” She suspected the first part because what virile, single man didn’t have condoms by the caseload in his bedroom?
“Fuck no.”
“Wait. What are sweet butts?” Before Jazz could answer, Kiki raised a palm. “Hold on, do I really want to know?”
Jazz grinned. “If you’re gonna be Hawk’s ol’ lady, then you’ll find out soon enough.”
Ol’ lady?
She was smart enough to guess what that may mean in biker terms. She hoped she was wrong, but was afraid she wasn’t. “There’s no chance of that.”
“Uh-huh.”
She looked at the young woman in front of her. It was early. Where was she coming from? Had she gotten up at the crack of dawn just to run for coffee? “You okay here?”
Jazz tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Do you mind living here? Being this house maid or house mouse or whatever it is?” She waved a hand toward the coffee. “Running errands?”
Jazz threw her head back and laughed. “Yeah. I don’t mind it. I like living here and helping out. I get to live in this awesome house for free. Hawk helps pay for my college and books, he’s way more lenient than my parents or grandparents, and he’s hardly home so I get the house to myself mostly. Plus, he’s got an awesome big screen TV with every channel available. Can’t forget the Wi-Fi. I have it better here than at home or even in a dorm.”
“He doesn’t try to touch you or anything?”
Jazz mouth dropped open. “Eww. No! Why would you even ask that?”
Ah, crap. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need... help or anything.”
“I’m free to come and go as I please. Hawk’s like having a cool uncle.”
Relief flooded through Kiki. “Okay, that’s good. Sorry. I never heard of this house mouse thing before so I got a little concerned.”
“Kiki, right?”
Kiki nodded.
“Let me just make something clear. I’m DAMC. We take care of our own. Most people think bikers are low-class scum, but I’ve got it better than a lot of people. I can’t complain.”
Kiki felt like a complete idiot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make assumptions.”
Jazz pulled one of the coffees out of the holder and held it out to her. “I get you’re out of your element with Hawk, but don’t make assumptions about him, either.”
Kiki stared at the cup for a moment then lifted her head and met Jazz’s eyes. “No assumptions to be made. We had fun. Now I have to go.”
“Just like that.”
“Yes, I have to get back...” her voice trailed off before she finished that sentence with “to my own life.”
Then she realized Jazz was still holding the coffee between them. Kiki accepted it. “Thanks, I could use some caffeine about now.”
“No problem. Figured you could use a pick-me-up this morning. Even with my earbuds in, it was hard to miss the headboard banging against the wall. My only hope is that when I find a man I want to keep, he has that kind of endurance.”
Kiki’s mouth dropped open and heat crept up her throat into her cheeks. So much for her not listening.
“I have to go.” Kiki turned and headed down the walkway at a quick clip, hoping the morning air would cool her face down.
“Right. Hope to see you again soon,” Jazz called out from the doorway. “I can make you two dinner next time and I’ll hang something behind the headboard to cushion the wall.”
Oh good lord.
Kiki hit the locks on her key fob, slid into her car and after bringing the Vette to a roaring start, she got the hell out of there.
Hawk wandered around her big, fancy office in her big, fancy firm in a big, fancy brick office building in downtown Pittsburgh.
He did not belong here.
He did not fit.
Kiki was pure class.
He was...
Crass. And sometimes an ass. Ask anyone, they’d probably say more than sometimes.
Her fingernails clicked impatiently, or possibly even nervously, on her too-neat desk. “Hawk,” she started.
“Yeah, babe?”
He didn’t miss her eyes flick to her open office door. She didn’t want anyone to hear him call her that. Which cemented his suspicion.
“Regret bringin’ it down a notch?”
“A notch?” she asked, confusion crossing her face.
“Okay, a shitload of notches.”
“I don’t understand...”
“The other night.” He turned to face her, hands on his hips. “Bein’ with me.”
Her breath hissed out of her and then she bit her bottom lip, which made his dick twitch in his jeans.
She might be out of his league but she did it for him and he’d do anything to get a second shot at getting her back in his bed. Even if it meant having to patch the drywall behind his headboard again.
She frowned at his sudden grin. “Why are you here, Hawk?”
He shrugged. “Have an appointment.”
“Yes, my assistant announced that when she escorted you into my office, so I’m well aware of that. Though, you didn’t need to make one, I could’ve talked to you over the phone.”
“Wanted to see you.”
“Now that you’ve seen me, is there business you need to discuss?”
“Yep.”
His feet began to move him around her office again since he was too restless to take a seat.
She flipped a hand toward one of the expensive-looking chairs that sat in front of her expensive-looking desk. “Would you like to sit down?”
“Nope.”
“Hawk,” she said in a tone that reminded of him being scolded. Which brought his thoughts back to her wearing her glasses and looking like a naughty librarian. His eyes landed on her discarded glasses to the left of her computer keyboard.
“Need to put your glasses on?”
She blinked slowly at him then said just as slowly, “No?”
Too bad.
“Hawk,” she repeated and his dick kicked in his jeans, which now brought his thoughts to how badly he wanted to drive it deeply inside her.
She was scrambling his brain. “Need to make another appointment.”
Her eyebrows rose. “For what?”
“Babe. You know for what. Need one for tonight.”
She was silent for a moment. Hawk watched an expression cross her face he couldn’t recognize.
“You have no other available prospects?”
He ignored that. “Want you in my bed tonight.”
“Uh... Okay, I’ll let you know. Is that the only reason you’re here? I have a lot of work to do.”
“Nope.”
She dropped her head and sighed. He grinned. When she finally lifted it she asked, “What else then?”
“Wanna plan the community service I need to do.” This was his excuse to come see her. Not call. Not text. Not even fucking email. Walk into her office and see her in flesh and blood. Wearing one of those sexy-as-fuck skirts. Somehow, he needed to convince her to stand up and strut across the room, swinging her hips. Though, if she did that he might have to slam the door shut and fuck her against the wall.
“I read the judge’s order. You have three months to complete one hundred hours of community service. You have time.”
His brain did a one-eighty and slammed into reality. “Gonna knock that shit out.” He didn’t like this community service bullshit hanging over him. Get it done, and get rid of that noose hanging around his neck.
“How?”
“Gonna do a Dogs an’ Hogs fundraiser.” He had already run it past the executive committee during their meeting yesterday and they voted on it. The brothers thought it was a good idea. Not only would the money go to a charity that the club liked to support, it was good community relations, too.
“A what?”
“Dogs an’ Hogs.”
“What are you fundraising for?”
“Charity that supports vets with PTSD. Rescues dogs
from the shelter an’ trains ‘em up for these guys.”
“And it’s a valid 501(c)(3) charity?”
A what? “Yeah.” At least he hoped so.
She planted both palms on her desk and gave him a great big kilowatt smile. “Well, that’s a great idea! What’s the plan?”
“Pig roast with some extra shit.”
She laughed and his eyes were glued to her mouth when she did it. He wanted to take that mouth right now. Who cares who saw it.
“So, a typical biker party.”
“Open to the public. Not havin’ it on club property. Gonna rent the fairgrounds.”
“In Shadow Valley?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded. “Okay, that sounds like a good plan.”
He was relieved to see her on board. “Gonna help me.”
“Who?”
“You.”
Disappointment gripped him when her smile turned into a solemn frown. “I need to help you?”
“Yeah, judge said I’m your responsibility.”
Her frown deepened. “Well, no... that’s not exactly—”
“Heard it with my own two ears, babe.”
“Right. He was just being a hardhead. He clarified the order later that I just need to make sure that you—”
“Babe.”
“Yes?”
“You gotta sign off on my doin’ time, right?”
“Yes, I—”
“Then you gotta make sure I’m doin’ my time.”
“But I—”
“Babe.”
Kiki sighed. “Look, if you need help, I’m willing to help. It’s a good cause and I’m pleased you’re picking that particular one.”
He moved around the desk and stood over her, looking down into her face as she gazed up at him. Her red lips parted and he could almost hear her panting. Damn, he wanted to unzip his jeans and have her suck his dick right here in her office. Leave a lipstick ring right at the root. His eyes bounced to her open door again then back to her.
He lowered his voice. “Good to hear, babe. Tonight, come over, we’ll start discussin’ details.”
“We have to do it tonight?”
No, I gotta do you tonight. “Yeah, lots to plan. Gotta get started if we wanna get somethin’ done in the next few weeks.”
Kiki stared up at the man who now stood behind her desk. She wished he would either sit down or leave. She couldn’t get her thoughts straight with his bulk standing over her like that.
She swallowed. Hard.
She fought not to drop her eyes because if she did, she’d be looking right there. And she knew what was behind that zipper. She knew it well after the other night. But her neck was starting to cramp.
“Hawk,” she began. Then her head twisted to follow his gaze when her coworker and fellow attorney Mike Hepler walked into her office, a look of macho concern on his face.
Shit.
“Are you okay, Kiki?”
Shit.
Mike to the rescue. As close as Hawk was, she could sense when his whole body went solid.
Double shit.
When Mike drew himself up to his full height—which was about six feet, a good four inches shorter than Hawk—Kiki’s heart started to pound.
This might not be good. This might not turn out well. Especially for Mike.
She pushed from her seat to her feet and had to put a hand on Hawk’s stomach so she wouldn’t lose her balance on her heels, since he hadn’t moved an inch from where he stood.
Which meant she was pinned between her chair, her desk and him.
Triple shit.
Mike’s gaze dropped to where her hand was and she automatically jerked it away, curling her fingers.
She cleared her throat. “I’m fine, Mike.”
“Doesn’t look like it.” Mike took a step closer to the desk.
“I’m fine.” She gave him a weak smile. “Really, everything is fine.”
Mike’s eyebrows shot up but he didn’t back down.
She glanced up at Hawk. “Can you just...” She pushed against his stomach again, hoping he’d step back and give her some breathing room.
“No,” Hawk grunted, his eyes not leaving Mike, his jaw tight.
“You want me to stay?”
“Really, Mike, he had an appointment. You can leave.”
Hawk snorted loudly as if he was egging Mike on. “Is your bitch ass gonna stop me if I do somethin’ to hurt her?”
The other man’s chest puffed up and Hawk shook his head, barking out a laugh. “See you’re wearin’ your hair down, babe. Wanna tell ol’ Mikey here why?”
Her hand automatically went to the back of her neck and her cheeks became hot. “I have a rash.”
“Right,” Hawk grunted.
Mike asked sharply, “Is he a client?”
“Yes.”
“Is he part of that biker gang Tom assigned to you? I told him—”
“Club.”
“What?” Mike asked.
“Club,” Kiki repeated. “It’s a club not a gang.”
Hawk placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Babe,” he said softly, his jaw no longer tight, his gaze no longer hard as steel.
Well, chalk one point up for her, apparently.
She studied the man in front of her. He was wearing black jeans, his black leather vest, a thick leather cufflet on his right wrist, and a bulky silver belt buckle with the letters DAMC at his waist. His fingers sported a half dozen clunky, silver rings, a black bandana hung loosely around his neck, and a long, leather wallet tucked into his back pocket was hooked to a belt loop at the front of his jeans by a long chain.
And he smelled like fuel, exhaust, and some other indescribable thing she didn’t want to analyze.
But still, everything about the biker before her turned her on. Maybe she needed to go to a psychologist and get her head examined.
She glanced over at Mike, who was the complete opposite. He wore a tailored suit that had to put him back at least a grand, with a tie and a neatly pressed dress shirt with actual cufflinks, not buttons. His shoes were polished, his Rolex gleamed on his wrist, and Kiki felt comfortable betting a week’s salary that he didn’t have one tattoo on his Elite Gym membership body. And there was no way the man was straddling an engine with two wheels between his legs. He parked a brand-new silver Porsche Cayenne S next to her Vette in the parking garage.
He’d been trying to get up her skirt for months now, ever since his wife left him. For what, she didn’t know, nor did she care. Nice enough guy, a little pretentious, but again, the type she’s been dating for a while now and had become bored with.
In bed. In conversation. In life.
But, she had to remind herself, she didn’t need to go from one end of the spectrum to the other. She needed to be on the lookout for a nice guy, who was financially responsible, was intelligent and...
“Babe,” Hawk murmured in her ear and she jerked.
How long were they all standing there saying nothing?
Shit.
“One of us gotta leave. Gonna go if you agree to—”
She cut him off before he said something outrageous that would spin Mike into a tizzy of macho bravado. “Our appointment later?”
He snorted and his eyes slid to Mike. “Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it.”
She sighed. “Fine. Later.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners and he pressed his mouth to her ear. “My place. Be there or I’ll come find you.”
Kiki’s thighs quivered and her nipples peaked at the thought of him hunting her down and doing whatever he wanted to do to her as his “punishment” for not showing up.
And for a crazy second she thought that might be fun...
She closed her eyes for a moment and bit her bottom lip. No. No. No.
“Okay. Eight,” she said with an acquiescent sigh.
He shook his head. “Six.”
“Seven thirty.”
“Seven.”
&
nbsp; Kiki grimaced. “Fine.”
With a smile, he finally stepped away, inspected her outfit and then said, “Wear that, lose the panties.”
Great.
Her gaze jumped to Mike who stood there with his mouth hanging open. He snapped it shut when Hawk approached him on his way out the door. As Hawk closed in on him, Mike took a step back and his face got pale.
Just like Hawk said, Mike wouldn’t be able to fight Hawk off if he’d been trying to hurt Kiki.
But it was the thought that counted, right?
Hawk stomped a foot toward Mike, who jumped back another step, then he laughed and walked out of her office door.
“Six-thirty,” he shot over his shoulder.
She shook her head, collapsed into her chair and pressed her hands to her face, groaning.
“Are you seriously meeting up with him tonight?”
She peeked at him through her fingers. “Really, Mike?”
“Yes really, Kiki. I’ve asked you repeatedly out to dinner. To a really nice restaurant, in fact. Not a hot dog cart like he’ll take you to. And you haven’t agreed once. Not once. But then this... this guy comes in here, bosses you around and suddenly, the strong, outspoken, independent Kiki that I know acts passive, like she lost her backbone, and agrees to meet with this...”
“Guy?” she suggested before he called Hawk something that would piss her off.
Mike frowned. “Sure, whatever.”
After looking over his shoulder, probably to make sure Hawk really left, Mike moved around to the side of her desk. Not as close as Hawk had been, but too close for just a co-worker.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
She dropped her hands and frowned up at Mike. “Is this even any of your business?”
He raked his fingers through his short, dark hair. Short, but not mohawk short. “I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be.”
“Jesus, Kiki, if you’re just looking for a quick fling...”
She looked at him in surprise. “Are you volunteering?”
“I’m not looking for only a fling, but if...”
She raised her palm to him. “No, Mike, don’t even go there.”
“The man’s been arrested for being violent. He’s not an upstanding citizen, Kiki.”