Page 8 of Hawk

She grasped my elbow to lead me toward the wall of booths. A few of the men scattered around the room looked up as we passed. They were massive. Tattooed. Dangerous. And all of them wore a leather vest that announced to the world that they were an Iron Rogue.

I scanned the room, searching for someone who looked like they might be expecting us.

Then I locked eyes with one of the men at the bar, and everything else faded away.

He stood tall and proud. Like he owned the place.

He was at least six-foot-two and built like a battering ram in a black T-shirt that clung to a chest thick with muscle and arms that looked as though they could easily snap a man in half. Hisforearms flexed, the veins roping beneath tanned skin in a way I had no business noticing but couldn’t stop staring at.

His sleeves were pushed up past his elbows, and his black hair was slightly tousled. Scruff shadowed his jaw, and his brown eyes were locked on me.

They were calm when I first saw him, but the instant our gazes locked, that calm seemed to crack. Something flared behind them. A kind of fire I didn’t understand but felt all the way down to my bones.

I’d never felt the instant punch of attraction before, but there was no doubt I was experiencing it now. My breath caught, and I had to blink to break the spell he was weaving around me with just one look.

It didn’t do much good, though.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t nod. Didn’t look away. Just watched me, still as stone.

It was more than enough to make a lasting impression…and that was before he walked over.

4

HAWK

The second she walked through the door, I knew.

It wasn’t the kind of knowledge that eased in slowly. It hit like a punch to the sternum. Sudden, sharp, and deep. Unlike anything I had ever felt before. My world narrowed to a single point—her.

Gemma.

Her long, toffee-colored hair gleamed under the soft amber lighting of the bar. Those soft brown eyes framed by thick lashes were big enough to swallow you whole. Her cute little nose crinkled as she looked around, visibly unsure if she belonged here. And her sinful lips were made to fucking wreck a man. They parted on a breath I swear I felt in my bones.

She had full tits, a narrow waist, and wide hips made for gripping. For holding down. For breeding.

The tight jeans she wore clung to hips made to ride. My bike. My hands. My mouth. Her snug dark blue sweater did nothing to hide the curves that could so easily bring a man to his knees.

And I’d seen her in lace.

Fuck!My cock stirred, hard and heavy, thick in my jeans.

I’d memorized every curve from the photo in her file. It had been tattooed into my skull ever since Midnight handed me the dossier. But seeing her now—real, flushed, shifting slightly behind Lainie like she wasn’t used to this kind of attention—nothingcompared to the real thing. She wasn’t just hot…she was everything. Feminine and fierce, soft and lethal. And almost a foot shorter than me, which only made me want to wrap her in my arms and shield her from the world.

My cock throbbed even harder against my zipper, the metal teeth digging into the sensitive skin. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to breathe through the pain. Every inch of me screamed to move, to take, to claim.

But I stayed rooted to the floor. I couldn’t make a move yet. Not when she was looking at me for help. She needed protection, not possession.

Not yet.

Fox, Maverick, and Deviant were posted near me at the bar, watching. I didn’t need to look to know their eyes were on her too.

“Easy.” Deviant snorted into his drink. “You look about five seconds from dragging her into a dark corner and making her forget her own name.”

Maverick’s voice cut in. “Might want to save the caveman routine for when she’s screaming it, yeah? Right now, you just look like a guy about to lose his shit.”

Fox chuckled, arms crossed as he leaned against the brick column near the end of the bar. “Judging by that look on your face, I’m guessing the photo didn’t do her justice.”

My body went still, and I felt almost feral.

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