Hawk's Property:Insurgents Motorcycle Club 01(7)By: Chiah Wilder
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.