Page 11 of Jumping In
It was February. The weather wasn’t going to warm up that night. Was Hawk talking about getting together again? The alcohol in Clint’s veins and the hard-on in his pants were making it nearly impossible for him to think clearly.
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.” Hawk took his hand and waited for him to climb out of the truck.
“I can walk,” Clint said, unsure how he felt about the gesture.
On the one hand, he’d always prided himself on his strength and self-sufficiency. He’d enlisted in the army right out of high school and built his own life, never needing anyone’s help. But on the other hand, there was something undeniably enticing about having someone to lean on.
“Like I said before, I like touching you.” Hawk yanked on his arm. “Quit being stubborn and get your fine ass out of that ugly truck and into my house so I can play with it.”
Laughing, Clint tightened his grip on Hawk’s hand and hopped out of the truck.
“I thought you wanted to play with my dick,” he said as he cupped his crotch.
“I said I want your ass too.” Hawk tugged him forward until their noses touched. From this close, his blue eyes twinkled as brightly as the stars. “I want it all,” he whispered. “I want every last part of you.”
Chapter Four
Needing to clear his head so he could assimilate Hawk’s words with some type of logical meaning, Clint peeled his gaze away from the distractingly handsome face and stepped away from his truck.
“This is your place?” Clint shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the earth-colored pueblo.
“Yup.”
The inconsistently sized windows and flat roofline differentiated it from the modern versions of the traditional Native American houses. “How old is it?”
“Nineteen thirties.” Hawk stepped up behind him, wrapped strong beefy arms around his waist, and rested his chin over Clint’s shoulder. “The inside’s been updated over the years. Nothing fancy, but it’s sturdy, warm—” he slid his lips over Clint’s neck, “—solid.”
“Sounds like a good place.” Clint’s voice shook along with his body. The soft lips and scratchy whiskers were doing nothing to curb his arousal.
“I like it.” Hawk found a spot behind Clint’s ear and suckled while he moved one hand beneath Clint’s jacket and the other down to his groin. “Going to like it even more with you in it.”
He’d suspected the deputy mayor was interested in him earlier that day, but he hadn’t anticipated how strongly the man would come on to him. The attention was flattering, enticing, but also a little disconcerting. Was he willing to be another man’s secret?
No. Clint had promised himself to live life on his terms and that meant not hiding. Not even for someone as enticing as Hawk Black. But maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe Hawk wanted nothing more than a fuck for the night and the sweet talk was just that … talk. His wanting it to mean something didn’t mean it did.
Finding a guy to fuck wasn’t difficult. Hawthorne was small, but there were neighboring towns and bigger cities a car drive away where Clint could walk into a bar on almost any night and meet someone who wanted to get off. But finding a guy who wanted to touch and talk was hard. Finding a man who wanted to hold him and was large enough to do it was harder. And finding someone he was drawn to anywhere near the way he was to Hawk Black was impossible.
With a sigh, Clint tipped his head back against Hawk’s broad chest and let himself enjoy the rare romantic moment for as long as it’d last. No other buildings were visible, just some faint glimmers on the horizon that could have been lights or could have been stars.
“Are we outside the city limits?” he asked, keeping his voice low to match the intimate mood.
“Not quite.”
“Town center’s ahead of us and to the left, yeah?”
He felt Hawk’s nod against the side of his face, their cheeks rubbing together.
“I didn’t think there was any private property out this way,” Clint said, finally getting his bearings and realizing where they were. “I thought it was all Hawthorne land.”
“It is.” Hawk buried his face in the side of Clint’s neck and inhaled deeply.
“What’re you doing?” Clint asked, trembling at the action.
“Smelling you.” Hawk breathed in deeply. “You smell fucking amazing.” He squeezed Clint tightly for a flash, then released and slipped his hand around Clint’s. “You’re shivering. Let’s go inside.”
Although the shivers weren’t temperature related, it was cold outside so Clint followed without argument. He stomped his boots in front of the door by habit and then stepped inside the warm house.
