Page 69 of Mischievous Lies

“Fuck no,” he scoffs.

“Hawke, have you ever watched a rom-com?”

“No… isn’t it girly shit?” he asks, and I try not to laugh at him. I don’t want to dissuade him from watching my choice of movie.

I roll my eyes as I pick up the remote. It’s no surprise he’s never seen a rom-com, especially since I couldn’t imagine Anya ever watching them.

“Let’s start with a classic,” I suggest as I press play onPretty Woman.

I wake up with a sharp breath. It’s dark, and Hawke is still asleep. Jared’s eyes flash before me, and I can’t seem to get my heart rate back down.

He did it. He killed her.

I already knew he had, but listening to his confession of the reasons behind it made it so much worse.

All because he wanted someone he couldn’t have.

Why couldn’t he just be normal and break it off with her? Why did he drag her into this abyss? She believed in him right until the very end. She was even willing, as drugged out as she was, to accept the fact that he killed one of her friends right in front of her.

It’s all so fucked.

“Your thoughts are so loud.” Strong arms wrap around me and pull me back before he starts kissing my shoulder. “Let me ease them.” I fell asleep before we did anything; listening to him laugh was relaxing. And now I can feel how hard he is. I pull his hand from around my waist and down to the top of my thighs. I slide his hand up underneath the shirt I’m wearing and let him take control. I love it when he takes control. So many men I’d been with did better when I controlled them, but not Hawke. Though, he’ll let me when I demand it.

He knows exactly how to please a woman, and I fucking love it. His hand slips between my legs, and I know he can feel how wet I am as he starts massaging my clit. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispers in my ear as his lips find my earlobe, and he takes it in his mouth. He pushes his cock harder against my ass, and I spread my legs a little wider, giving him more access.

At this point, I’m pretty certain I’ll give him everything he demands of me because I’m weak to not only the pleasure he can give me but all the fractured pieces of himself he’s slowly revealing to me as well. Waking up in his arms, knowing that he’ll protect me no matter what.

I moan and wriggle against him as he rubs his cock against my pussy, trying to force myself down on him.

Hawke is the greatest distraction for my overactive thoughts. But he’s also the best thing that could’ve happened to me. My body has always understood that. It’s just taken my heart longer to catch up.

CHAPTER 42

Hawke

I’m woken by the sound of someone honking outside my house. When I reach for Ivy, she isn’t there. When I open my eyes, I see her standing across the room, still wearing my shirt that hangs past her knees, holding a travel cup.

I rub my hand through my hair. It’s dark in the room, but that’s because I have blackout curtains. I pick up my phone, and my jaw drops when I notice the time. “Why is it so late?” I say, hopping out of bed and grabbing my jeans and the first shirt I can find.

The honking continues, and I curse, knowing it’s Ford and Eli. Fuck, I’m late.

“You clearly needed sleep, so I turned your alarm off,” Ivy replies.

I lean back into my walk-in closet to grab my boots. “Eli’s going to fucking kill me.”

She pops a hand on her hip. “If Eli has a problem with it, you tell him to take it up with me. You tell him I said that,” she says defiantly. I growl, agitated that my cock jumps at her sassy mouth. I loom over her, squeezing her cheeks.

“You’re so lucky I love punishing this smart little mouth of yours.”

“I think you’re the lucky one here,” she bites back before I crush my lips to hers. Because for all I know, it might be the last time I ever see her. Eli is not a patient man. I go to run out the door but come to a halt as she calls me back and hands me the travel cup.

“It’s a protein shake I made for you. Good luck today.”

Fuck me. I could get used to this. I kiss her again before running out the door, still trying to do up my jeans.

“You’re late,” Eli growls from the back seat as I practically throw myself into Ford’s passenger seat.

“Sorry, boss,” I say, licking my lips and glancing around awkwardly, unsure where to put the travel cup. He arches an eyebrow, and I avert my gaze out the window as I try to get my bearings. I yawn, patting down my shirt and pants, making sure I’m wearing both.

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