Page 38 of Mischievous Lies

He says it is as ifusis all I need to know. The cheek of this asshole. I flop onto my couch and pull out my phone, then scroll through the delivery options for tonight, purposely ignoring him.

His weight makes the couch dip, so I lean slightly into him as he sits beside me. “So what are we ordering?”

I glare at him. “Pad Thai with chopsticks.” I don’t know why, but the thought of a guy this big using something as delicate as chopsticks makes me want to laugh.

“Awesome. And what are we watching?” he asks, lifting my legs and hanging them over his thick thighs as he gets cozy.

“You’re seriously staying in with me tonight?”

“Yeah. Why are you making it weird?” He gives me a look like I’m the one who’s flipping the script between us. We don’t do this. Ever. We tease each other and play pranks on one another. Sure, maybe in a group setting, we’ve watched the same movie, but this isn’t our usual.

I think back on what Hope was saying earlier.Are we a good match?

Gah, my brain hurts. I’ve been doing too much of that lately—thinking. I pass him the phone and let him order what he wants. “I was watching a sci-fi movie.”

“You like that stuff?” he asks, surprised.

“Thought all I did was watch pornos?” I ask sarcastically.

“Preferably. I’d rather we make them, though. Do you think we’d make bank if we created an OF account?” he asks as he pulls my feet toward him.

“Like you need more money. And stop that.” I squeal and yank my feet away from him as he goes to massage them. His eyebrows shoot up, and I know I’m in so much trouble.

“Lover, are you ticklish?” he asks, his sausage fingers twinkling in the air mischievously.

“I swear to God, Hawke, if you— Stop!” I scream in a fit of laughter as he lunges for my ribs. I push at his face and try to wrestle against his weight. “Stop! I can’t… I can’t breathe.” I accidentally hit him in the mouth, and he leaned back, adjusting his jaw.

“Nice hook,” he says, his almost-black eyes twinkling with pride.

“I’ll aim for your nose next time if you ever try that again,” I pant, trying to catch my breath, the pump of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

“Women will still want me even with a crooked nose.” His arrogant gaze never leaves mine.

“Are you wanting to test that theory?” I ask absentmindedly because my body is only focusing on his hand that’s still pinned to my waist. Heat rushes over me as I become acutely aware of him. His smell. His overbearing and all-consuming presence. Simply Hawke.

“There’s another theory I’d like to test out,” he says as our heads naturally gravitate toward one another.

“What’s that?” I find myself whispering so close to his lips that I can almost taste him. This devil that’s never worn a disguise. Hawke has always been Hawke. Torturous in the way he tempts me. And sometimes I’m weak. Especially when I have needs that I know he can meet.

I brush my lips against his carefully, and it’s all the permission he needs before his callused hand is holding my face, and he plunges his tongue into my mouth. My own tongue dances against his, a small moan escaping from my mouth. The moment he touches me breathes me in and feeds me, I feel my body relax and quickly be taken over by a greedy need. I grab him by the shirt, pulling him on top of me.

He hovers his weight over me, his hand gliding up and down my waist before it trails to my tits. Oh, fuck me. Hawke is everywhere, kissing, biting, teasing. Hawke knows how to worship a woman, and my body is so receptive to his reverence.

I can feel his cock straining against my pussy through the fabric of his pants and my own shorts. He grabs my ass lifting me to press harder against his cock, and I moan, arching into him, knowing precisely how much trouble I’m about to be in.

The thing about a man this powerful is that once you get a taste of him, you can’t forget it. Don’t want to. And no one will ever compare.

I’ve run away from it for so many years, frightened about how he’ll ruin me.

But right now, I very much want to be ruined.

CHAPTER 24

Hawke

She’s everything I’ve always wanted. I’ve been praying to a God I don’t even believe in for the chance to taste her again. And now she’s coming undone in front of me, and I’ve barely touched her.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I purr, kissing along her neck that tastes faintly of salt and vanilla. I squeeze at her bountiful tits. I’ve always fucking loved them. I’ve loved every part of her even before she gave me the honor of pleasing her.

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