Page 102 of Rebel Hawke

A huge one.

I should have returned home earlier.

Right after the fire.

If I had, maybe none of the horrible things would’ve happened to him. Maybe everything would’ve been different…

“What are you thinking, Little Bird?”

Humming lightly, I relax against the brick and relish the heat of his body along the exposed skin on my upper back, of his arms around me, of his cock still filling me, and his thighs pressed to mine. “I was thinking that was a pretty stupid rule.”

He chuckles low and deep, the sound vibrating through his chest into my back. “Well, I tend to agree with you, but I can’t deny I felt like I’ve been making progress in the gym lately.” His lips press over my throat, and he drags his tongue along the edge of the scars, down to my collarbone covered in them. “And you’re right. You’re a horrific distraction. I’m not sure I would’ve hadthe energy to put into whatwe’vebeen doing if I’d been doingthisto you every night.”

I grin at the compliment, unable to hold back the question his statement creates in my head. “So, you’re not going to do this to me every night?”

Because that would be a true tragedy.

Though, that may just be the post-orgasmic brain fog talking.

His laughter fills my ears, shaking us and rolling through our bodies. “If you’ll let me.”

It would be so easy to just say yes.

To give in to Atlas and what he does to me at every available moment.

And God knows it would feel good.

I could spend every night like this, in a constant state of bliss, and I could wake every morning knowing I could have it again. But remembering the panic in Gramps’ gaze when he told me why he brought me back, knowing how much he worries about Atlas and the upcoming fight, I know I can’t do that.

That would be selfish when he needs me to be the voice of reason.

Which he clearly doesnothave when it comes to getting me naked and beneath him.

I take a long, slow breath, allowing my lungs to expand fully before I push it free and say something that might start a fight I don’t want to have. “I won’t let it get in the way of our schedule, of our plan. If it does, the rule comes back into play. Understand?”

He nips at my earlobe, sending a shudder through me that makes me clench around him again and draws out a low groan from his chest. “I understand, Wren. You’re in control.”

While I like to hear him say that, I’m not so sure it’s true.

Not when every nerve in my body still sparks from my orgasm, when he’s still buried deep inside me, when my heartstill thunders against my chest, when him telling me he loves me still rings in my ears.

I cannevertell who is in control when it comes to this relationship.

Bishop was right when she warned me about Hawke men, when she said they see something and take it and never let it go.

That’s exactly what he did to me.

Only it wasn’t a handful of weeks ago.

It was back when we were eight.

It was when we had our little pretend wedding and I said, “I do,” and he slipped that little plastic ring onto my finger.

Thatwas when all this started.

I just never wanted to admit how deep it went.

Because it’s crazy.

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