Page 7 of My Little Secret

Chapter 3

SADIE

If sexier wordshave been spoken in life, I’m not aware of them. Hawk could reduce me to a puddle just by looking at me, but every time he opened his mouth he became more attractive and funnier. And it honestly felt wrong—like, this guy should be an asshole if he’s also going to be that hot. But no. He’s hilarious and skilled and knows how to make lasagna because of his Italian grandma. Of course.

“I can’t believe you want to get me off,” I said, trying to control my careening brain. He made it impossible to think. “I’m just some girl you brought back to your hotel room after meeting me at a bar. Usually it’s all about the guy getting off and then kicking me out.” And that was what I’d expected from him, honestly. It was what the tabloids made him seem like. What jilted exes spread about him.

He nibbled at my earlobe, which made my breath come out in a whispery whoosh.

“I’m different.” His hands slid down the sides of my arms, and then he grabbed me by the wrist, leading me deeper into the suite.

No shit he was different. That was obvious the second he chose to sit next to the girl with the homemade octopus leggings in the upscale bar. He led me into the bedroom and toward the luxe king-sized bed. He pushed me at the hips, and I fell to sitting on the bed, bouncing slightly.

“Hang on here.” I held up a hand. I was going to see Hawk’s penis soon, which was like the definition of my Make-A-Wish list if I were terminally ill. “We need something to get us into the mood.” Really I just needed time to process this. Make sure I didn’t come off as a bumbling, disjointed fool.

“Anything you want.” His dimpled grin, sly like the coolest kid at school, cracked me in two.

“Billie Jean.” I felt my neck flush as soon as I said it. What the hell was wrong with me? Michael Jackson was my go-to, though. “The song. Let’s hear it.”

He snort-laughed. “Really?”

“Let’s hear it.” I nodded toward his phone, which he had fished out of his pocket. He swiped at a few screens, and then a moment later the telltale opening rhythm beats wafted out of the device. And it sounded good. Of course he would have a super-spiffy phone with awesome speakers.

“Do you want me to play the part of Michael Jackson or the detective following him around?” He crawled onto the bed, straddling me. I propped myself on my elbows, his heat sinking into me, rooting me to the bed.

“You can be MJ, but only if you know how to dance like him.” My voice trailed off as he nuzzled my neck, pressing the length of his body against mine. Michael’s voice started its nostalgic warble from the phone, but it sounded a million miles away. All I could feel was the rock-hard body descending on me, the pulse streaking through my veins, the desire churning hot in my core.

“I can’t promise that.” His lips skipped over my collarbone, his hands hot at the hem of my shirt. “But I can do his trademark screech.”

I laughed as Hawk’s lips wandered over the fabric of my shirt, right between my breasts. “I have to hear it. Before we move any further.”

He sat back on his heels, laughed once, and then let out a pitch-perfect “Yee-hee!”. Giggles escaped me, and I hooked my ankles behind his back. The move made something dark cross his face, and he lowered on top of me, resuming his position in the valley of my breasts.

“So I passed the test?” His fingers crept up beneath my shirt, swirling lightly at the skin of my belly. A shiver coursed through me so hard I couldn’t speak for a moment.

“With flying colors.”

“Can I see what’s under here?” He pushed his hands up over the curve of my waist. I nodded, and he pushed the shirt up over my breasts, revealing my very plain and practical taupe bra.

“Mmm.”

“Don’t act like you’re impressed.” I sat up to tear my shirt off and toss it aside. “This is the plainest bra you’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t care about the bra.” His fingers made scorching trails over the bottom curve of my breast, just below the underwire. “Why would I care about the bra when it’s holding these?”

His big, rough hands covered both of my breasts, gave them a gentle squeeze. His knuckles were scraped, probably from beating the shit out of people.

“You want to see them?”

“More than anything.”

“Five bucks.”

A smile crested his face. “You should charge way more than that, babe.”

Freaking Hawk called me babe. A gush of moisture reached my panties. He slid my straps off each shoulder and then tugged the cups down. My breasts popped out, splaying instantly to the side. Damn gravity. I was almost embarrassed, until Hawk nuzzled each one in turn, moaning appreciatively.

“Damn, Sadie.”

---