Chapter 13 #2
"Whatever happens, I'll try to keep you from becoming a target for the press," he said, as though he hadn't noticed my moment of panic. "You know how they can be."
I thought of Harvey and nodded. "Yes, I do know. Don't worry about me though, I can handle myself."
"Said every rookie, ever," Hawk said dryly. "The reality is a bitch."
"I guess it is," I agreed. "I'm surprised I didn't read about your family." Especially his mother. That would be a big story, since university football was almost as well-loved as the NFL. One I wouldn't touch with a hundred and twenty yard pole.
"Like I said, we kept it quiet," he said. "I keep expecting someone to dig it up, but so far no one has."
"Or they have the same opinion I do, " I suggested. "That family is off limits. They never signed up for fame."
"Exactly," he agreed. "Stranger things, I guess."
"Yeah." I nodded straight ahead. "That's my building up there."
"So it is," he agreed.
I thought furiously for a moment. Did I want to suggest this? Maybe it was too soon. What if he said no? The season was coming fast and he probably had training first thing in the morning, or meetings, or…
"Do you want to come up?" I blurted out.
"Only on one condition," he replied.
"What's that?" I turned my face to look at him. I had no idea what he might say. His face was a closed book.
"On the condition you're absolutely sure you want this," he said. "Don't…be caught up in the moment right now. In the feels."
I liked him all the more for that. Most of the guys I knew wouldn't care if I got caught up. If I had regrets, they would be all mine, not their problem. Okay, I made some bad choices in the past, but this felt like the right one.
"I'm very sure." I nodded. "I want to spend more time with you."
He smiled softly, eyes warm. "I want to spend more time with you too. Lead on, loveliness."
My breath caught in my throat at the endearment. "This way, good sir."
OMGOMGOMGOMG. That was all that went through my mind as we crossed the road and approached the building. I willed my hand not to break out in a flood of sweat. I silently begged my legs not to turn to mush halfway across the road.
"Nice place," Hawk said as we stepped in through the front entrance.
All of a sudden the place looked shabby and tired.
The carpet was worn thin from years of passing feet.
The walls were the same colour they were painted in approximately 1985.
The light fixtures matched the walls. Everything was neat and clean, but dated like old wallpaper and those singing trouts people used to hang on their walls. Do they still make those?
"Uhm it's a little…well-loved," I said. I was embarrassed to have brought him here. I pushed the button for the elevator. "My apartment is a bit more up to date."
He looked somewhat anxious as the elevator doors closed behind us, but he turned to me and cupped my cheek with his hand.
"I'm here for you, not what your building looks like.
I've been in much worse places than this.
Hell, I've lived in much worse. My first year out of college, before I signed with the Humpbacks, I slept on a friend's couch.
Even when the money started coming, I was scared to spend it, in case it stopped coming.
I gave more to my Dad than I spent on myself.
" He sighed. "I'm just a regular guy, really. "
"I know," I said. My face was on fire from his touch, soft and delicate, like he cradled something special and not just me. "I'm not used to seeing things through someone else's eyes. It's…" I shrugged.
"Confronting?" he suggested. "Wait until you see my place. You'll laugh at my decorating ideas."
"You don't have a singing trout on the wall, do you?" I asked.
He looked surprised, but laughed. "No, should I?"
"Absolutely not," I said. My mind went a bit wild at the idea of going to his place. Not because it was a freaking mansion, although no doubt it was. The fact he seemed to be thinking beyond tonight, beyond just once. Beyond the bet…
The elevator door slid open with a grinding of gears.
"Oh good, I was worried it might get stuck," I said. "It does that sometimes."
"I kinda hoped it would," he said with a cheeky smile. His hand went from my cheek, down my arm, to my hip. He left behind a blaze of fire. "But mostly not. I'm not a fan of elevators."
I shivered.
"My apartment is this way." I nodded down the hall.
"Okay."
We stepped out of the elevator and let the doors whoosh shut behind us.
Moving swift and smooth, like he did on the field, Hawk grabbed me around the waist, drew me to him and pressed me against the closed elevator doors.
I had a second to react, if I wanted to pull away, as his burning eyes bored into me.
I couldn’t do more than breathe; he had me transfixed, pinned emotionally and physically.
He pressed his mouth to mine in a firm, scorching kiss that could have set the whole building on fire.
Flames danced on every inch of my skin. I might combust here and now.
I ran one hand through his soft hair, the other pressed against the wall.
Except it wasn’t the wall.
My fingers hit the elevator call button.
One moment I leaned against the closed elevator doors, the next I was falling. I let out a squeal and landed on my ass, feet hanging out of the carriage, Hawk's body on top of mine, heavy and pressing, but also somehow comfortable. Well, comfortable if we weren’t in an elevator by accident.
When I got past my surprise, I let out a peal of laughter. His followed mine a moment later.
"Oops." He looked down at me and grinned. He gave me another, long kiss, then got up and offered me his hand to get up.
We got clear right before the doors closed again.
"I'd prefer to fuck in an elevator than get fucked by one," he remarked.
I responded with a breathless laugh. "No argument there." I was still trying to get my head straight after feeling his weight on me.
My mind couldn't even babble, all the blood was in my belly and between my legs.
"What number?" he asked.
"Huh?" I blinked. He was definitely a ten, and I assumed he knew that.
"Apartment," he said. "What number?"
"Ohhh. Seventy."
"So close to the magic number." He grinned.
I choked back a laugh. It was juvenile to laugh at sixty-nine, but I did it anyway.
I shook my head at him. "Some people never grow up," I teased.
"I've noticed that about you," he said, deliberately misunderstanding.
While he was calling me childish, I might as well live up to it. I stuck out my tongue at him.
Before I could pull it back in, he closed his lips over it and sucked it, gentle but insistent.
Oh. My. God.
I was going to melt out here in the corridor. All they'd find later was a puddle. And a smile. Like the Cheshire Cat got turned to liquid.
I ran my tongue over his teeth and lips, tasting him, hungry for more.
I finally pulled my tongue back in and drew back. "We should get inside my place before someone comes."
"Right," he agreed. "That could get messy. Very messy."
I glanced down toward the bulge—big bulge—in his pants. Holy shit. I wanted to feel him inside me so bad it almost hurt.
"Um." I swallowed. "Yeah, very." I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward my door. I took the key out of my pocket and, after fumbling the first time, somehow managed to get it in the lock.
The door swung inward. Only his hand in mine kept me from tumbling head first onto the floor.
I dragged him inside, closed the door and locked it firmly behind us before placing my keys and handbag on a table near the door.
The moment my hands were empty, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing himself against my back. His erection was hard against my hip.
"I want you so fucking bad," he rasped in my ear. He rucked up the front of my dress and ran his hands over the bare skin of my belly. The touch was soft, in contrast to his roughened voice.
"I want you too," I whispered.
He worked his hands up higher, cupping my breasts. Through the fabric of my bra, he ran the pads of his thumbs over my nipples.
"Perfect." He kissed the side of my neck and teased it with the tip of his tongue. He ground his erection against me until I groaned out loud at the mix of sensations.
He slid his hands back down to grip the hem of my dress.
With a single yank, he tugged it over my head, the cool air a blessing on my heated, flushed skin.
He tossed it to the side and unhooked my bra.
Almost painfully slow, he slid the straps down my arms. They dropped off past my hands and it landed on the floor with a plop.
"Turn around," he whispered in my ear.
I took a moment and a ragged breath before I turned to face him. What if he didn't like what he saw? What if he compared me to the woman in those pictures? I resisted the urge to cover myself with my hands, instead keeping them by my sides.
I couldn't meet his eyes, nervous of what I'd see there. I found a spot in the stubble on his chin and focused on that.
"Becca," he said, his voice hoarse. "You're so beautiful."
Now I raised my gaze to meet his.
"No, you," I said without thinking. I mean, I wasn't wrong. His eyes were dark with need. Need for me. No one had ever looked at me like that before. It was intoxicating
He chuckled. "I don't know about that."
Ever so lightly, he ran the tip of one his fingers around the curve of one breast, and down to my belly.
He ran his finger across my stomach and back up the side of my other breast. My skin prickled with goosebumps at the soft, light touch.
The look on his face suggested he was trying to memorise me and everything about me.
"See, beautiful," he whispered.
Encouraged, I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up.
I stopped with my hand just under his chin and gaped.