Page 79 of Outlaw Xmas
“You think he started the fire last night?”
“I do. I don’t know why I do. It’s a feeling. I have a description of his van and two numbers from his license plate. Remember I told you I couldn’t read his last name on the ID he gave Asher when he came to my office.”
“Yeah. You didn’t make it sound like this fucker was dangerous.” He got up from the couch and came over to her. “Has he threatened you?”
“No. Nothing like that. I just don’t have a good feeling about him. I wish you’d check him out.”
“Give me the details and it’s done.”
Cara gave the description of the van and the two numbers and Hawk took out his phone and went to the mudroom, closing the door behind him. As she was setting the table, Hawk came into the kitchen and went over to her.
“Did you find out anything?” she asked.
“I will. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of it. Dinner smells good. I love your lasagna.” He spun her into his arms and kissed her. “And I fuckin’ love you, babe.”
She kissed him back. “We have to make sure the kids are safe on Saturday. All the Insurgents will be there, right?”
He nibbled her neck. “Yeah, and the prospects too. We got this, babe.”
While they ate dinner, Braxton told them what he did at school, and Hawk kept throwing sultry glances her way. By the time the food was put away and the dishes were in the dishwasher, she was a quivering mess of lust and desire.
When the clock struck seven thirty, Cara took the children up to bed. Isa fell asleep almost immediately after rocking her in the chair, and Braxton was already in bed waiting for his bedtime story when she went into his room. She and Hawk took turns reading to him, and she cherished the nights when she held one of his favorite books in her hands and transported her son to the world of make-believe.
Switching off the lamp, she smiled as she watched Braxton sleep, his ratty teddy tucked under his chin. As she went down the stairs, electric heat moved through her as her need for him intensified. Her body had been craving his touch since he’d come home.
He was on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table, the lamps turned down low, and a fire spitting in the fireplace. A show with a lot of zombies stumbling around was on the screen, the sound turned down so low she couldn’t make out any of the dialogue.
She came up to him from behind and put her arms around the front of him. He tilted his head back and she bent down and kissed him deeply. He reached behind him and grasped her waist, lifting her off the ground and bringing her over the couch to him. They didn’t say anything, just grabbed onto each other: their lips fusing together, his hands sliding under the hem of her top, her arousal rising within her like a flaming torch. The space between them was supercharged with the electricity of lust and desire. He plunged his tongue deep inside her mouth and hers tangled around his in a tantalizing dance, stoking that fire.
The way he kissed her, touched her made it seem like the earth beneath her melted away and all time stopped. She only felt.
“Fuck, babe. You’re the spark to my flame. I can never get enough of you. Never,” he rasped against her skin as he pinched her nipples and moved his lips down her neck.
A wave of warmth filled her up, spilling out from her heart and rushing to every corner of her body: her curling toes, her aching nipples, her throbbing mound. Every inch of her was saturated with desire. “Oh, Hawk,” she moaned. Her arms reached up and tangled around his thick, strong neck. In an instant she’d pulled away and arched up into his broad chest, moaning in the contact of body heat against her own, before she drew back into his lips.
“Let’s get on the floor, babe,” he whispered, pulling her up. He moved the table out of the way, and she grabbed a blanket strewn over one of the cushy chairs, laying it out on the floor. He lifted his shirt over his head, the fire’s glow illuminating every ripple in his amazing chest and arms. His tats danced as he reached out and yanked her to him, his mouth crushing against hers.
As he eased her down on the plush blanket, desire, love, and joy spread through her. She loved and desired Hawk so completely that she knew no matter how long she lived, she’d never get her fill of him. He was her world and she was his, and no matter how tough things got, they always had each other.
She grabbed a fist of his hair and brought his face to hers.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Banger
Thousands of twinklingwhite lights welcomed guests to the Brighter Lives’ Toy Drive Fundraiser. The Insurgent men looked out of place amid the dangling snowflakes, glittering trees, beaded and sequined cocktail dresses, and designer suits. Round tables with chairs draped in white and secured with red satin bows filled the large room, and servers balancing large silver trays filled with a variety of hors d’oeuvres maneuvered through the labyrinth of people.
Popping a stuffed jalapeño into his mouth, Banger snagged a glass of champagne with his free hand as a waiter walked by carrying a tray full of flutes.
“Never thought I’d see you drink piss water,” Hawk said, coming up to him.
“I was fuckin’ thirsty. And I can’t catch one of these people to get me a Jack.”
As if on cue, Throttle and Axe came over with four glasses full of amber liquid. Banger took one from Axe and drank a big gulp. “I needed this, brother.”
“Thought you would,” Axe said as he brought his glass to his mouth. “This is a kickass turnout.”
“Cara said it’s gonna double last year’s profits easily. Good to see people helping out the kids.” Hawk took a few bacon-wrapped shrimp and gave one to Throttle.
