Page 45 of Altered By Lead (Undercover Sinners 2)
"If you have something you need to get off your chest, Miss Petrova, I suggest you do so now." Hawke's voice is back to a careful neutral, but his lips are still slightly puffy from our violent but exquisite kiss. "I won't tolerate insubordination on my team, and I've let you sulk for too damn long already."
My jaw drops open.
"Ex-fucking-scuse me? You've let me sulk? Are you on fucking drugs right now, Hawke?" The outrage is real. Really real. "And you don't allow insubordination? Huh? Since when? Have you even met Arsen?"
Hawke says nothing for a moment, just glares. Then he releases a heavy, vexed breath before taking two steps closer to me. I try to back away, but I'm pressed up against the side of Mace's Hummer. Goddamn it all to hell. Even though I’ve pulled my tank top down, my pants are torn, and I know Hawke can see my fancy new lingerie.
"Let me be clearer," he says, his voice dropping in pitch to a scary growl. "I won't tolerate insubordination from you, pet." He comes closer still until his hands rest against the huge truck on either side of my head. He's not touching me, but he may as well be.
Feeling way too much like a caged animal, I react by lashing out. "Oh no? Does that not fit into your little bet, Hawke?" I hiss the words at him and am momentarily satisfied to see his eyes widen. He really had no idea I knew. "How was that meant to work anyway? You make a bet to have me fall in love then do everything imaginable to make sure I don't." My lip curls with disgust. "You must just love throwing your money away, huh?"
Hawke's brow furrows a fraction of an inch, then the strangest fucking thing happens.
He.
Smiles.
I feel like I can count the number of times Hawke has smiled on one freaking hand, yet somehow this situation warrants it? Nuh-uh. Something is fucking fishy here.
"That annoys you, doesn't it, pet?" His voice is a fucking purr. Like some kind of big cat getting a belly scratch. Fucking. Psychotic. Ass. "You're less angry about the bet, and more so that no one is actually trying to win it, aren't you? Does it bruise your pride? Sexy thing like you, so used to men dripping off her." His smile has the goddamn nerve to widen, and I'm just standing there. Tongue-tied. Utterly speechless.
I can safely say this is not how I saw our confrontation going.
"You want to know what I think, Natalia?" He's pure smug confidence and as badly as I want to throw his words back in his face, tell him to screw off because I couldn't give two shits less what he thinks of me … I can't. He's right. Damn him to hell, he's right.
"What?" I take the bait, my voice weaker than I'd have liked.
Hawke's gray eyes glitter with pure fucking evil and he drags his tongue over his lower lip. Slowly. So fucking slowly.
I swallow back the lusty groan that wants to escape my throat, but still can't bring myself to break free. Every part of my logic screams to get the hell out of Hawke's web. Go inside and climb Mace like a tree, or ride Weston's cock on his cloud bed, or hell, even let Arsen stick his dick in me against a dirty, floral wallpapered wall somewhere. Anything would be a better use of all my pent up sexual frustration than doing what I’m doing.
Absolutely fucking nothing.
Yet.
"I think if I touched you right now, you'd let me. You'd be soaking wet and desperate for my cock, even though I've all but ignored you for months."
I hate him.
I hate him because he's right.
I hate him because he's not content to just leave it at that. He needs to prove his fucking point by running a hand down my body, under the waistband of my sopping lavender panties. His fingers enter me, rough and demanding, and I can't hold back the desperate moan any longer.
"For the record, pet," Hawke growls into my ear, finger fucking me while he undoes his belt one-handed with quick efficiency. He frees his throbbing cock and makes quick work of what’s left of my pants. He shoves them and my panties down to my knees and exposes me to anyone who might be watching from inside the hotel. "The bet was never to make you fall in love. The bet," he continues as he lifts me up and drives into me, barely even flinching when my teeth sink into the bend of his neck to stifle my screams, "wasn't to make you fall, pet. It was to make you admit what you're already feeling."
My eyes widen, and I suddenly realize where I am and what I'm doing, those animalistic instincts of mine fading away in a rush. I shove at Hawke again, but this time, I'm lacking the element of surprise and he doesn't move. He stops thrusting though, holding himself sheathed inside of me.
