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My eyes grew wide as I drew a ragged breath.
Before I could return his blatant presumption with a smartass comment, he ran his fingers over my lips and slowly dragged them down between my breasts. I sighed with lust. So much fucking lust. He stopped just shy of the waistband of my cutoffs and wrapped my other arm around his waist.
“H-how…” I squeaked out as his fingers slipped under the hem of my shorts.
Even in the dark I could see his perfect sexy grin.
“Nice. Cotton panties? That's a first. Usually women have lace or nothing at all.”
I could barely control my breathing. “I’m not your type.” And I wasn’t. I’d never done anything close to this before. Why was I doing it now?
“Oh darllin’. I don’t doubt that, but I don’t need a perfect compatibility match for what I want to do to you.”
“What do you want to do?” I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted to know.
“Fuck you. I want to fuck you. Hard,” he whispered in my ear, and I could feel the sudden wetness between my legs. My breathing was erratic and the only way I could keep my knees from buckling was to squeeze his arms as tightly as I could.
“You always get what you want?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“You don’t get the top by being a loser. I'm a fucking winner. I'm the star quarterback for the DC Sharks and in my professional career, I’ve scored more touchdowns than any other man before me. I'm quick and I'm skilled, on and off the field. Am I cocky? Damn right. Who wouldn't be in my shoes? When I want something, I go after it and I get it.”
Oh God. He was an arrogant asshole. Cocky. Brash. And yet I was falling for it like a damn groupie. I was pinned against the wall, reveling in the feel of his body holding me in place.
I rolled my eyes, needing to find some of my own strength buried somewhere inside me. “Did you really just say that to me?”
He smiled and slipped his fingers past the fabric. My breath hitched and I moaned.
“You do have a wild streak somewhere in there, don't you?” he asked as my wet warmth covered my fingers. I groaned as he slowly circled my clit and ran his finger to my entrance.
“I-I can’t do this here. We’re in a hallway.” I didn’t even recognize the raspiness of my own voice.
“Call me Hawk. I want to hear my name on your lips when I’m fucking you. You understand?” he asked as he plunged a second finger inside me.
My head fell back against the wall. His fingers were thick and skilled. My hips jumped at every touch.
“Do you want more? Do you want me to kiss you? Do you want me to fuck you? Tell me.”
I laughed and he pressed my clit with his thumb, almost bringing me to my knees. Holy shit. The heat radiating off our bodies was palatable. I liked it and now, more than even I imagined, I wanted more.
“Hawk, I can't do this,” I whispered, knowing I was clenching and gripping his fingers with sudden rhythm.
“Why not?” he asked, running his lips down my neck. My eyes closed from the intensity of everything we were doing.
The eroticism of potentially being caught. The taboo of hooking up with a customer on my first night. The good girl in me craving this bad boy. Knowing everything about this was wrong. So much wrong.
“Look at me. I want to see the lust in your eyes,” he commanded.
I was lost in pleasure and sensation. His fingers had taken me to the brink of insanity. I had no thoughts. No power to make a rational decision. I was drawn to this man. This complete stranger like a moth to a flame.
3
Kane
As she looked up at me, she bit down on her lower lip, and I was within an inch of losing what self-control I had.
“Babe, you have no idea how much I'd like to bend you over right here, right now, and ...”
“What a gentleman,” she scoffed between breaths.
