Forbidden Crush Page 8

Slowly it came down the road, passing the motel. At least 20 bikes followed behind. A strange little redneck parade.

  They disappeared around the corner, the sounds of their bikes still in the air long after they were gone.

  I drank the rest of my beer in three long gulps. I had no idea what was really going on in this town, but I didn’t think I wanted to.

  14

  Hawk

  As I sat on my bike in the woods, veiled in darkness and staring across the road at the sheriff’s run-down motel, I thought about the man I should have killed today.

  As far as days went, today had been pretty fucking shitty. I could’ve handled things better with Sid. In the heat of the moment, I’d been hesitant to make a move on the man. Cautious that he was expecting it, or was waiting for me to try to stick my pocket knife into his heart. Now that it was over and I was looking back on it, I regretted not making the attempt. Surely I could’ve sunk my steel into his body, whether in his heart or in his gut. I could have tried. Not doing anything made me feel like a coward. Why was I staying in this damn town if not for a chance at revenge?

  And the way I’d handled Charlotte…

  That made me feel like a coward in a different way. I was a horse’s ass to her. I had to be in the moment, to keep Sid from using her against me. But after? I could’ve done a better job of explaining why. I could have consoled her.

  I would’ve, I thought stubbornly, if my arm wasn’t in so much fucking pain.

  A few pills washed down with some Jack Daniels had numbed the pain to the point that I could ride my bike. It wasn’t broken, which meant there wasn’t anything a doctor could do except tell me to lay off it. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to do that.

  The most important thing now was making sure Charlotte was safe. Despite my show of telling her off today, I was terrified that Sid saw through it. I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I knew she was safe. Even if it was just for tonight.

  Charlotte left her room and visited the lobby, then came out with a six-pack of Bud under her arm. Now might’ve been the perfect time to show my face, apologize, and share a drink. Most wounds could be healed while sharing a beer or three, I’d learned. People wanted to forgive each other. Sometimes they just needed an alcoholic push.

  But just the thought of going into that room filled me with scandalous thoughts. Passion rose up in me like a flame. The way Charlotte filled out those jeans, popping her hips with each step like she was on a runway, stirred something in me I couldn’t ignore. I wanted her, the same way I’d wanted her when I saw her in that jail. I imagined ripping her clothes off, literally tearing her panties because there wasn’t enough time to pull them off her legs. Exploring her body with my hands. Cupping her tight little ass. Getting a handful of those tits. And feeling the wet, pink pussy that begged for a good, hard fucking.

  I wanted to fuck her all night like the world was ending tomorrow. Like I had nothing left to give.

  I wanted to make her mine. Forever.

  And that scared me more than all of Sid’s threats.

  The familiar rumble of Copperhead bikes knocked me out of my fantasy. I reached to the side of my Indian Scout, where my shotgun was mounted between the chain. I held it across my lap and waited.

  They came into view the way they always did, driving east. They avoided the major highways whenever they did this kind of work, escorting product across the state. There were more of them than usual tonight: I counted 22 on the front and 24 on the back. A larger escort for the mixer than normal. They must’ve gotten a tip about trouble farther to the east.

  Or they think I would try something tonight.

  It would have been easy to ambush them here. Sid rode in the middle of the pack, directly in front of the cement mixer. I could leave my hiding spot and get close enough to pump Sid full of shells before anyone knew what was happening. The rest of the Copperheads would gun me down within seconds, sure. But I’d take him down with me. I’d get the revenge I’d been dreaming about since he destroyed my life.

  The bikes rumbled by, the opportunity lost.

  I relaxed and slid my shotgun back into its holster. A sliver of a woman was peeking out the curtains in the motel, watching the convoy pass. A second later she disappeared as the curtain fell back into place.

  Sleep well, Peaches, I thought to myself.

  No matter what I had to do, I would keep her safe.

  Even if it meant keeping her away.

  15

  Charlotte

  He came to me in my dream again, just as he had before.

  The door opened and he grinned at me. He was already shirtless this time, the muscles of his torso beautiful in the moonlight. The tattoos seemed to dance and play as he stepped inside.

  “You’re not here for your jacket,” I said, biting my lip. Waiting for what I knew would happen next.

  Hawk led me to the bed, and my pants came off with ease. I moaned into the sheets as he went down on me, eating me out with lusty fervor. Like he’d been starving for me all day, and now that he’d given in he couldn’t get enough.

  “I think you’re ready for something real,” he said as he stood, unzipping his pants. “I’m going to make you mine, Peaches.”

  His cock slid out of his jeans, long and hard and glistening with pre-come on the tip. I shuddered at the sight of it, and reached forward to take it in my hand, to feel the heat of it between my fingers, but Hawk snatched my hand from the air and grinned like he’d won the game.

  “Don’t touch,” he said in that hint of a Georgia drawl. “Only feel.”

  He spread my legs and thrust forward, burying every inch of his manhood in my wet pussy. My ache of desire turned into an ache of contact as he widened my walls, filling me to the brim.

  “That’s fucking good,” he moaned in the darkness. “You’re better than I dreamed, Peaches.”

  So are you, I wanted to say. But this was a dream, so he was exactly how he felt.

  I ran my fingers over his skin, tracing the lines of his tattoos. Outlining the orchids on his arm and the numbers by the bicep, 3194. All the while Hawk fixed his gaze on me while he made love to me.

  “I’m gonna give it to you all night,” he said, moving slowly back and forth. “Slow and fucking steady.”

  “Yes…” I breathed.

  “By the time I’m done with you, you’re gonna be begging me to come.”

  “Yes,” I whispered again, surrendering to the way he made me feel. Surrendering to his gorgeous body. “Yes, Hawk. Yes!”

  He reached a hand down and rubbed at my clit, and it drove me to a new height of ecstasy…

  *

  My phone alarm yanked me out of the dream.

  “No,” I moaned, slapping at it on the table. “No!”

  I was so close. It was still there, I could feel it. I could still feel him. I slid a hand into my panties, which were practically soaked from my dream. I rubbed myself and imagined Hawk there in bed, pressing his huge manhood between my legs, filling me with every inch of his love…

  I rolled over and pretended he was taking me from behind. “Hawk,” I moaned into the pillow as my imaginary man made love to me, fingers digging into my hips. “Hawk, yes, right there, yes…”

  I shuddered and gasped into the pillow as everything went white and intense and perfect.

  As I pulled myself out of bed and showered, it felt strange to have had the dream after yesterday. Hawk had shown me who he really was: a jerk. I shouldn’t be thinking of him as anything other than that.

  Then why does it feel so good?

  I felt satisfied in that deep, exhausting way that came after really good sex. And it had to do with imagining Hawk’s chiseled body next to me, on top of me, behind me. And yet I wanted more. I wanted to chat with him during our work, flirt with him, make him smile at me.

  But as I walked to work in the overcast morning, I realized I was still mad at him. Which was almost a relief, because I should be mad at him after what he’d called me.
I didn’t know what I was going to say to him, but I did know I wanted to give him a piece of my mind. To let him know what he’d done wasn’t okay in any circumstance.

  And if some of that was my anger at Scott spilling over, then so be it.

  I was planning on stopping in the diner for coffee, but Hawk’s truck was already waiting in the community center parking lot. And on the other side of it, seated on a bench, was Hawk himself. He held two cups of coffee, and grimaced when he saw me.

  “Can we forget yesterday happened?” he said, handing me a coffee.

  All my anger and prepared speeches disappeared. “How’s your arm?” I said.

  He flexed his joint. “Got a bruise that’s darker than my ink, but I’ll be alright.”

  I took a sip of the coffee. “There’s a lot of cream and sugar in this.”

  He gave me a small smile. “One might say it’s practically hot chocolate.”

  “Just how I like it.”

  Hawk drove us to a different part of town today, farther from the interstate and with a lot more natural trees. We came to a piece of land like a plantation, with a well-constructed farmhouse in the distance surrounded by perfectly manicured lawn and a driveway flanked by tall oak trees. It was out of place compared with everything else in this town, except for the outer fence along the road, which was dilapidated and rotten.

  Hawk parked the truck next to the road where the driveway began, right on the edge of the property. A pile of new lumber was stacked on the side.

  “We’re on fence-mending duty,” Hawk announced as he hopped out of the truck.

  I frowned at the fence. “What’s the point of keeping that house and lawn and trees so nice if you’re just going to let the perimeter fence go to crap?”

  Hawk smirked over at me. “Why pay someone to fix it when you can wait and eventually have it done for free? Even the rich folks in this town are stingy, Peaches.”

  The vertical fence posts were still in good condition, Hawk determined after a quick check. It was just the horizontal posts that were broken and rotten. Hawk used a hammer to tear off an old plank, then carried the new one over from the pile by himself. It was at least 10 feet long, thick and heavy, but he bore the weight with ease.

  I held up one end of the wood to the fence while Hawk held the other. He nailed his side into the vertical post, then came over and did the same to mine. He swung the hammer with all the skill of a craftsman, each nail only requiring three smooth blows before it was buried in the wood.

  After the first few sections, Hawk and I loaded up the bed of his truck with wood and drove along the fence so we wouldn’t need to keep walking all the way back to the pile. The work was easy but exhausting; even just holding up the planks while Hawk did all the work left my arms drained and noodly.

  “Saw you ride by the diner last night,” I said after a while. “On your bike.”

  “Huh.”

  “Where were you going?”

  “Nowhere,” he said a little too quickly. “Just out for a ride. It helps me think.”

  I studied him for a few moments. I’d hit on something. “You sure? You drove down a little road going off into the middle of nowhere, and came back a minute later.”

  His hammer stroke missed the nail head, catching it on the side and bending the nail at a 90 degree angle. “It was a good place to turn around,” he said, flipping the hammer to wedge the bent nail out of the wood.

  He was definitely hiding something, but I didn’t think pushing it would make him talk. “I saw Sid and his boys last night, too. They were escorting a cement mixer. Can you believe that?”

  “That’s strange,” Hawk said, though by his tone it wasn’t strange at all.

  “What was that all about?”

  He shook his head, turned his blue eyes on me, and then shook his head again. “Something you shouldn’t stick your nose into, Peaches.”

  “I bet they steal construction equipment,” I mused out loud. “I have no idea how much one of those things costs but it has to be more than a normal car. $50,000, or even $100,000. Worth stealing.”

  Hawk snorted.

  “So am I close?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “You were totally in a gang of cement-mixer-stealing bikers, weren’t you?” I joked as we moved to the next post. “No construction site is safe from the Copperheads! Oooo!” I made my two fingers into snake fangs and swiped at the air menacingly.

  Hawk didn’t think it was much of a joke. “I said don’t worry about it.”

  “Oh come on. That was funny.”

  A car came down the driveway from the plantation house, kicking up dirt. It turned onto the main road toward us, approaching slowly. It was a shiny Cadillac, white with gold trim. Something even a 1970s pimp would say was gaudy. It pulled up next to us and the window rolled down.

  “Beautiful mornin’ under God’s blue sky!” Judge Benjamin declared.

  I glanced at the clouds. “Not much blue today.”

  He gave me a huge smile that bordered on mocking. “Oh, it’s up there. You just have to look on the bright side, honey. Don’t be so pessimistic.” He glanced at Hawk and gave a nod. “Y’all are doin’ a good job.”

  “Thanks,” Hawk said curtly.

  The judge was wearing casual clothes again, and his fishing gear was in the back seat of the Cadillac. I thought of something rude to say but held back.

  “How many more hours you got?” he asked Hawk. “Nearly done, eh boy?”

  Rage fought its way onto Hawk’s face, and he pushed it down with visible effort. “Too many hours left,” was all he said.

  The judge looked at me. “100 or so hours,” I said.

  The judge whistled as if he weren’t the one who handed down that sentence. “That’s a long time to be working outdoors, but it’ll leave you with a more humble outlook on life. By the time you leave Eastland, you’ll be thanking me.”

  I doubt it, I thought behind my patronizing smile.

  The judge pointed at the fence. “Make sure y’all haul away the old wood. Don’t want to have to lodge a complaint with Mindy if the job’s not done right. Wouldn’t be very fair. You two have a pleasant day, now.”

  He rolled up the window and drove away.

  “Prick,” Hawk muttered.

  “It’s awfully convenient,” I said, “that the judge who gave me 120 hours of community service is benefiting from it. What’s next? Painting his bathroom?”

  Hawk grabbed a handful of nails and filled the pouch on the tool belt around his waist. “Welcome to Eastland. You’ll get used to that sort of corruption.”

  “I already am.” I took a drink of water from the cooler. The clouds blocked the sun, but the humidity was getting worse by the minute. It was like breathing steam. “Did you know the sheriff owns the motel?”

  “Mmm hmm. It’s bullshit, right?” Hawk wiped the sweat from his face with a sleeve, then muttered, “Fuck it,” and pulled the shirt over his head. He wiped his face with it, and the back of his neck, before wadding up the shirt and tossing it into the truck.

  I couldn’t stop myself from staring.

  His eight-pack glistened with sweat. As he ran a hand through his sweaty hair, the muscles on the side of his torso bulged out like delicious breadsticks. There was almost no fat on him, allowing every muscle and vein to practically jump out like a freaking pop-up book.

  He glanced at me. “Uh, yeah. It’s bullcrap,” I said in response to his question.

  “I didn’t say bullcrap,” Hawk pointed out. “I said it’s bullshit.”

  “I don’t like to curse.”

  He lifted another piece of wood from the truck. His biceps were enormous. “Why not?”

  I took the other end of the wood and tried to look at the ground. “My parents were strict about curse words when I was a child.”

  Hawk looked to his left, then his right. “I don’t see your parents around now.”

  “Some habits die hard, I guess.”

&
nbsp; “You should try it. It’s cathartic.”

  “I’ll save it up for when things are really bad,” I said as we carried the board over to the posts. “Hopefully it doesn’t come to that. I wish I wasn’t stuck in this stupid town.”

  Hawk aimed a nail and drove it into the wood with three smooth hammer strikes. “You and me both, Peaches.”

  I gave him a funny look as he came over to nail in my half of the board. “Why are you stuck here? Your license isn’t suspended. You could ride away and all they could do is give you a fine for skipping the community service.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You did your research?”

  I stood up straight. “I’m not above admitting that I looked up the penalty. I would do it in a heartbeat if my license wasn’t suspended.”

  “Three days here and you’re already a hardened criminal.” He leaned in close to position the nail on the board above my hand. The tattoos on his arm flexed and rippled as he hammered it home.

  “So what’s the deal? Why don’t you do that?”

  “I just can’t.”

  I glared at his sexy back as he went to get another board. “And what did you do to tick off the Copperheads? What does Sid think you stole?”

  He hefted the next piece of wood and carried it over. I grabbed the other end while he positioned his side against the post. “I don’t want to talk about it. And it’s better if you don’t get involved. Just keep your head down and—”

  I let go of my end, letting it thunk into the dirt. I put my hands on my hips in my best impression of my momma when she had had enough of someone’s attitude.

  “Keep my head down and then leave town, right? Yeah, you and everyone else has told me that, but not much else. I’m getting sick of getting the runaround. You won’t tell me what the Copperheads are up to. You won’t tell me why you’ve upset them. And you won’t tell me what they want from you. I’m not a toddler who needs to be kept from the truth for her own protection. I can handle reality.”

  “Drugs.”

  I opened my mouth to yell some more, then closed it. I hadn’t expected him to actually answer. “Oh.”