Page 5 of Savage Guardian

Seeing he wasn’t sticking around, she shot to her feet, reaching for his forearm.

“Ready to go? We can head to my place,” she said, her voice a practiced rasp. At his arched eyebrow, she blurted, “Or we can just slide around to the back of the building. It’s been a while since you’ve fucked me against a wall.” She leaned in, trying to kiss his neck.

He was not feeling it. Matter of fact, just the thought of touching Amelia made his skin crawl. She wasn’t who he wanted.

And when the hell had that changed?

Yeah, he wanted to meet the mysterious Aoibheal, had been fantasizing about such a thing for over a year, but that had never stopped him from getting his dick wet. There were many times where he’d actually listened to an Aoibheal track while banging Amelia…Rosa, Tammi, Daisy, Becca….

So why now did the idea of fucking someone who wasn’t Aoibheal turn his lust into loathing?

Not bothering to answer Amelia, Hawk pulled his arm from her grip and cast a glance toward the bar.

Thor was watching, his always perceptive gaze one of the reasons he’d been given the bar to manage—the man saw everything. With one final chin lift, Hawk ignored Amelia’s whines at his back and headed out the door.

Soon.

Soon he would meet the woman who’d turned him inside out and flipped him upside down.

He just hoped that, once he finally came face to face with his fantasy, he wasn’t left wanting.

He wiped his mouth and grinned. That was the most satisfying thing he’d tasted in a long time.

Warm. Sweet. A little thick, creamy, but satisfying nonetheless. He licked his lips, savoring the mingling of flavors on his tongue. Like nectar of the gods. He opened his mouth wider, flicking his tongue over the succulent flesh, eager to taste more, devour more.

Fuck. Nothing tasted better than a baked caramel apple.

Finishing it, he tossed the core into the trashcan next to his desk, and settled back against the desk chair, his focus, once more, on the screens before him.

Three screens. One dedicated to work. One dedicated to research. One dedicated to his obsession.

His obsession—a gold flame-haired beauty, with lush curves, warm, sexy whisky eyes, and a voice that stole his soul right from his body.

She was his angel. His savior. The woman who’d appeared from the mist to give him life when he was so buried in grief and anger, he was dying from it. The gun barrel pressed to his head. The noose leaving rope burn on his neck. The poison burning through his blood. She’d come to him, her voice calling to him. Dragging him back to life when all he wanted to do was die.

His perfect love. His precious treasure.

His Aoibheal.

From that first song, he’d been hooked. Haunted.

His desire to know her, to find her, to own her had turned him from a path of destruction that nearly claimed the whole of him. Instead of focusing on the shit show of his life, he’d turned all his attentions and intentions to his Treasure.

It didn’t take long to find her website, download all of her music, then use dark, insidious back web channels to find even more.

With his connections, it was nothing to secure information on her. Name, location, work history, education, relationship status, and even when she got her last period—people puteverythingonline these days, especially on their personal calendars.

He knew nearly everything there was to know about her, her life, and her family, but he still wanted more.Neededto know all there was to know about his precious girl. And he would. By the time he was done with her, there would be no secrets between them. He’d not only know her thoughts and dreams, her hopes and fears, he’d know what she felt like coming around his cock. He’d know how soft her skin felt beneath his hands. He’d know what she tasted like—her lips, her flesh, and her cunt. He’d know what she sounded like when she breathed while asleep and awake. He’d know what she smelled like when she was aroused.

And when she was terrified.

He groaned at that thought, his aching cock kicking against the front of his slacks.

Fear was nearly as alluring a scent as sopping wet pussy.

And he’d own them both. Her terror and her body. Her fear and her adoration.

His savior, his obsession, his treasure didn’t know it yet, but she was his.

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