She really was a truly beautiful woman. Her body was tall, sleek, and toned; her skin was perfectly tanned, and her long auburn hair always curled to perfection. She didn’t need makeup or tight clothing; she didn’t need anything to enhance how beautiful she was. She just simply was.
But her beauty wasn’t why I was staring. What drew me was how comfortable they looked with each other. The two of them, perfect human specimens, talking, smiling, all without a care in the world.
Hot, humiliated tears began to fall from my eyes and slid down my cheeks.
Where did I fit in?
Any other day, I would have wrote it off as Jase playing the part of the loving husband for the sake of his children. It was something I’d told myself many, many times before. But after today, after last night, I couldn’t seem to truly convince myself of anything.
What was wrong with me that I’d actually thought I could have Jase for myself?
There was no room for me here. I was the other woman. The whore. And why Jase even bothered with me when he had all that—a beautiful wife, a happy family—suddenly didn’t make any sense at all.
Was I a joke to him? Did he pity me?
Had he only ever wanted a quick, easy lay, but later when he was done with me felt in some way obligated? All while I continued to put myself through this hell, letting everyone treat me like a lesser being, waiting on the sidelines for something that might never, would probably never happen.
I tried to turn away, to push back against Hawk, but his weight and his strength brooked no movement.
“Don’t that shit piss you off, D?” Hawk’s face was bent to mine, his breath hot and smelling of cigarettes as it breezed past my cheek. “Knowin’ that he’s goin’ home to her, takin’ her to bed.”
“Don’t,” I whispered hoarsely. “Don’t do this to me again.”
“Look at the way he’s touchin’ her,” he continued. “Doesn’t exactly look like a man who’s plannin’ on leavin’, does it?”
I couldn’t answer him, I couldn’t speak, I could no longer even see. Tears were welling and falling, faster than I could blink them away, and if I spoke, I knew I’d only sob.
Everything hurt, so much more than ever before. After last night, and now this, God . . . I . . . I was so . . . so . . .
I was so damn angry.
No, I was so much more than angry. I was humiliated and hurt, and all of it was bubbling up inside me, everything I’d kept hidden for far too long was rising to the surface. I couldn’t hold back, not anymore. My fears had turned to fury, and my pain had turned to rage. It was all there and Hawk was forcing me to see it, and with nothing or no one to soothe me, it had begun to boil over, leaving me shaking inside and out, craving an outlet.
“Stop!” I cried, twisting in his hold. “Stop . . . I can’t . . . I can’t!”
He allowed me enough space to turn and then he was back, his body pressing up against mine. I panicked then, shoving against him, beating my hand wildly against his chest. It was a useless battle. Three times the size of me and far stronger, Hawk simply grabbed hold of my wrists and pinned them high above my head.
“I’ll scream!” I cried.
“Why?” he asked, sounding bored.
Through my tears, I blinked up at him. “What?” I whispered.
“Why?” he repeated. “So you can go cry some more? Go back to feelin’ sorry for yourself?”
I didn’t have a ready answer.
“I know you,” he continued. “Wantin’ everything, gettin’ none of it. I get that. Hell, I feel that too. You don’t know shit about me, but I know you. Fuck, I know you better than you know yourself.”
He released me and all at once began backing away. Stopping in the center of his room, he gripped the hem of his black T-shirt, pulled the threadbare material up over his head, and tossed it aside. Then he kicked off his boots, sending them flying across the room where they hit the wall with a loud thud. Then in one fluid movement, Hawk had removed both his leathers and boxers.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, suddenly breathless.
“Givin’ you somethin’,” he said.
Giving me something. That was all he’d said.
I stared at him, both terrified and fascinated.
“Last night was a mistake,” I whispered and dropped my gaze, a last attempt at trying to convince myself of just that.
“Ain’t no such thing as mistakes,” he said. “There’s only shit that happens and shit that don’t.”
Raising my eyes, I found Hawk’s expression unchanged. He stood there, naked as the day he was born, as stoic as ever. And, good God, was he infuriatingly cryptic, and . . . naked! He was still naked! But even as shocked as I was at his brazenness, I found myself looking him over rather thoroughly. His thick arms, his broad chest, a pair of thighs that could crack walnuts, all covered in dark, shadowed tattoos. But mostly I found myself staring at the erection, jutting out tall and proud between his legs.
He didn’t care. He was standing here naked, offering himself to what was essentially the property of one his brothers and yet . . . he didn’t care. To be this careless, to be this spontaneous, to be this free, I couldn’t comprehend it but I was certainly envious of it.
Memories of being with Hawk last night filled my consciousness, things I’d blacked out, reminding me of the way I’d been able to let myself go. There had been no unbearable anxiety, no crippling self-doubt, but most precious of all was the lack of expectations. I’d cried and I’d laughed, not thinking, just feeling. I’d needed, and in return, Hawk had given me what I’d needed.
My nails digging into his back, him grunting in pain as I dragged them across his skin, his body meeting mine, over and over again in loud, echoing slaps, he’d given me what I’d needed.
And then holding me tightly, he’d lifted me off the countertop and I’d found myself flat on my back on the floor behind the bar. The rigid bar mat, wet with spilled alcohol, dug uncomfortably into my skin. But I had little time to dwell on it as Hawk rose to his knees above me and lifted my legs, positioning them over his shoulders.
Then he’d taken me so hard, so fast, that I’d forgotten everything else—where I was, who I was, and most importantly, who I belonged to.
Giving me what I’d needed.
He’d made the whole world disappear.
Oh God, was I considering this? Being unfaithful to yet another man?
What had happened to me? The girl I’d once been never would have entertained this.
But the girl I’d been never would have married a man she didn’t love, she never would have taken up with a married man to fill a void inside herself. I was no longer that girl, filled with dreams of love. I was a woman now, whose mistakes and circumstances had forced her down a very different path. Who had time and time again chosen the wrong direction.
Once again I was at a fork in the road. If I chose right, I could remain faithful to Jase, forever waiting and watching from the sidelines. If I chose left, I could forge a new path, destination and consequences unknown.
“Stop thinkin’, D,” Hawk said, and I almost laughed. Stop thinking? It was like telling me to stop breathing.
“It’s real easy,” he continued. “You leave and Jase finds out. You stay, and Jase never has to know.”
And just like that, he’d made it easy. By taking away my choice, he’d made it easy.
I didn’t remember who moved first, all I knew was I was moving and he was moving and when we collided, it was a collision of mouths and groping hands, the ferocity of which I didn’t recognize. It was awkward at first, wildly different from anything else I’d experienced with Peter or Jase, but at the same time it was oddly filling. Frenzied, messy kisses and touches that were anything but gentle were filling me, replacing my anxiety with an overwhelming sense of desperation. Desperation for what, I didn’t know, only that I couldn’t stop. That I needed more.