Veronica
From the moment I kick off my heels and unbutton my blouse, his hands are on me. First, he fists the length of my hair and tugs so I’m looking into his eyes. I’m a tall woman, but Hawk towers over me, and with his fingers knotted in my hair, I’m completely at his mercy.
“I’m going to do every dirty thing to you that you ever imagined.
” His voice is rough silk, his eyes melted chocolate.
Those eyes skate across my lips, and he’s looking at me like he is imagining what I taste like.
He lowers his face to mine. “What dirty things have you imagined, Miss H.? What’s your fantasy? ”
My knees nearly buckle as a flood of wetness dampens my panties. “I want you to burn me with that beard,” I tell him. “Make me raw.”
He moans, a guttural, hungry sound deep in his throat, and I stroke my fingers along the delicate knob of his Adam’s apple.
“I want you to crush me beneath your weight and then eat my pussy until I split apart,” I tell him, curling my lips into a smile. “Can you do that, baby?”
He lowers his forehead to mine, and my eyelids flutter shut. He’s so close, it’s like sensory overload. His fingers tug through my hair. The tip of his nose grazes mine. I burrow my fingers into the soft length of his dense beard.
“I will do all that and more,” he promises. “But first, I need something from you.”
He flicks the tip of his tongue against my lower lip, and I squirm. Blood rushes between my legs, and my clit throbs with anticipation. I haven’t been touched—God, I haven’t been fucked—in so, so long.
“What?” I whisper against his lips, my breath soft against his. “Tell me, Hawk. What do I need to do to get you to fuck me?”
His hands are on my ass, pulling me so close to his hips, I can feel the rock-hard cock pressing against his jeans. I skate my fingertips along his ribs, desperate to touch every inch of him. His chest, his abs, his back—I grip him and pull him so close, it’s as if I want to consume him whole.
He grinds his hips against mine.
“Hawk,” I whimper. “I need you. Tell me what you want so I can fuck you, baby.”
He lifts his face and meets my eyes, and I see it. The desire he is scarcely able to contain. The raw arousal that matches my own.
“I need,” he pants, his hips working against mine, a desperate dry hump that leaves me writhing for more, “a tardy slip.”
Those words hit me like a bucket of cold water. My eyes snap open. My pajama top is unbuttoned, and one breast has slipped free from the cotton. My heart is pounding, and my nipples ache with arousal. And oh God. I’m wet. So, so wet. And now I’m frustrated.
I look at my phone. It’s six in the morning on Saturday.
I should be sleeping in. It’s my day off.
I should be doing a lot of things, but having sex dreams about Nico Greco is not one of them.
I toss the blankets off me, and when the cold air hits my legs, I immediately realize how very, very turned on I am.
Ugh. This is not good.
First of all, he’s not someone I’m going to see again. Second of all, he’s just—I don’t know—not what I’m looking for.
“Right, Veronica. Because incredible sex with a gorgeous guy who’s great with kids is exactly the opposite of what you’re looking for.
” I sigh as I pad to my bathroom and turn on the shower.
I think back to the text he sent me. I had noticed the flowers on the kitchen table when we ate, but I didn’t think anything of them.
For all I know, Poppy and Phantom keep flowers on the table every day.
But that’s kind of bullshit. I had a sense deep down that when Hawk shopped for dinner, he’d bought those flowers for the occasion. For the table—not for me, necessarily—but he did go out of his way to make sure to provide a beautiful centerpiece to pair with the delicious meal.
I frown at myself as I brush my teeth while the shower heats up. You know, it’s been so long since I’ve been on a date, it’s no wonder that I’m hot and bothered for the first incredibly gorgeous man I’ve spent any kind of time with.
It’s weird, but not a lot of men have fit into my life. I’ve dated some, but they’ve been guys who either think I’m married to my job or expect me to quit.
All I really need is a man who’s fine with me having a big, full life. I love going to pep rallies and football games. I love buying popcorn to support the dance team and driving halfway across the state in the springtime heat just to watch our mathletes compete against a rival school.
The way I grew up, without a mother and with a father who worked himself to the bone to take care of me, I craved belonging.
A big family. A lot of people around. I have friends, lots of them teacher friends, administrator friends.
Coach friends. But boyfriends? Somehow, no one’s ever stuck around for long.
If I had to choose between going to a Friday night home basketball game and going to a man’s messy apartment for pizza and a less-than-satisfying hookup, yeah… I’m not ashamed to call myself picky or protective.
Picky about who I give my time to and protective of the family I’ve made for myself at Palm High.
Yes, the kids change every year, and they graduate and move on to their adult lives.
But high school is a special time. It feels the same for everyone—the hope, the fear, the excitement, the exhaustion, and I love being a part of all of it.
Although I have to admit, yesterday morning, I was disappointed when Holly and Daisy actually got to school on time. No excuse to see Hawk. No texting him to sign forms. It was just a normal, hectic Friday of fights, sick kids, and phone calls.
But it felt like something was missing.
It felt like someone was missing.
I shake my head and step into the shower, shoving foolish thoughts like that out of my head.
After a brief morning visit with Dad for coffee, I can’t help quickly driving past Phantom and Poppy’s house without looking at it or slowing down. I don’t know if Hawk is still there, but I don’t want him to think I’m stalking him or—worse—interested. I drive straight from Dad’s to the salon.
I arrive early for my appointment and greet my favorite colorist with a warm hug. “Clara.”
We make small talk, and she brings me a cup of tea. I sip it and scroll through my phone while she preps my color. I catch her up on all the innocent fun—the drama from the recent school board meeting. I have half a head of foils in when the rumble of motorcycles distracts me.
The front door of the salon jingles open, and Hawk and another huge, tattooed biker come inside.
“Here, hun.” Clara hands me a magazine. “I’ll be right back.”
I quickly open the magazine and duck my face low enough so hopefully Hawk won’t recognize me.
But if I angle my head just right, I can peer up through the foils and watch what’s going on.
I can’t even imagine why he’s here. Does he know I’m here?
Did he follow me? It makes absolutely no sense to me that he should be here in my salon on a Saturday.
I mean, did he see my SUV pass the house and…
Suddenly, he and the other guy leave the salon, get on their bikes, and take off.
Phew.
I drop the magazine, my mind whirling through questions.
“Sorry about that, hun,” Clara explains, peeking under a foil to see how my color looks. “My sister and brother-in-law are coming back from a trip.” She meets my eyes in the mirror and laughs. “Those were the babysitters.”
I can’t hide the surprise from my face. “Your sister is Poppy?” I haven’t been coming to the salon that long, but I’ve never really paid attention to what Clara’s sister’s name is.
She does own the salon, but it’s not like we gossip about the staff.
We usually talk about her life and mine—I can’t believe that, all this time, I’ve been coming to Poppy’s salon.
Clara grins. “Yeah, I thought you knew that.”
“I did,” I say. “But I guess I didn’t realize that her kids go to my high school.”
Clara laughs. “Oh shit. You’re the principal of Palm High? Why did I think you worked at a fancy private school? Maybe I’m mixing you up with another client.”
Now that we have figured out how we’re connected, I can’t stop myself from prying just a bit. “So those bikers are the babysitters?”
She nods as she lowers my chair and motions for me to follow her to the shampoo bowls. “Yeah. They’re my brother-in-law’s friends. They look rough, but they are really sweet.”
Once I get started, I can’t really help myself. Maybe it’s the salon environment and the fact that I can’t distract myself with a magazine or my phone. Maybe—and this part I don’t really want to think too much about—I just want to know more about Hawk.
“So, I should mention that I kind of know one of them. Hawk,” I say. I explain how I went to dinner at Poppy and Phantom’s house two nights ago. I don’t tell her about the flirting or about the kids being late. If Clara thinks it’s weird, she doesn’t say anything.
“Oh my God, you’re kidding me. He cooks?
” She practically swoons as she gently tugs out my foils.
“So, here’s the deal.” She drops her voice, and I almost open my eyes to see why, but she lowers her head so I can hear her better.
“Some of my brother-in-law’s business dealing are…
I honestly don’t know. I offered to watch my nieces while Poppy and Phantom were out of town, but Phantom was a little worried about having his guys at the house for security or protection.
I don’t know. Holly and Daisy knew I was just a phone call away, but they know the guys really well, and I think they felt safer having them around instead of just me. ”
Safer. Security. Business dealings…
My head swirls with what this all means, and in spite of myself, I ask, “So, are they, like, criminals?” I practically whisper the word.
Clara laughs. “How’s that temperature? Good? Okay.” She suds up my color and scrubs my scalp, and I start to relax into a warm bubble of comfortable bliss. “I honestly don’t know what they are, and that’s how I like it.” She’s quiet for a moment while she shampoos me, but then she continues.
“I’ll say this, though. Phantom loves my sister and his kids like I can’t even describe. He’s like pure love, power, and strength. I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side, though. But being loved by someone like him—I can see why it might be worth some trade-offs.”
Like losing him to prison or violence, I wonder. Or being close to someone who willingly breaks laws? I have to admit, I’m sheltered. I don’t know what criminal bikers do.
“Aren’t they notorious partiers?” I ask. “I mean, no offense to Phantom. I mean guys like that in general.”
Clara rinses me off and then liberally applies the most heavenly smelling conditioner.
“I think when they’re single, they party,” she agrees.
“But Phantom’s loyal as hell. I can’t imagine he’d even look at another woman now that he has Poppy.
He’s all in, and I think a lot of them are wired that way.
Loyalty. Intensity. Family. That stuff still means something to guys like that. ”
I settle into that contradiction for a minute and think about my dad. He is loyal and sweet, but Dad never achieved everything he wanted in life. He was too busy making ends meet and keeping up—getting ahead didn’t seem possible for a man like him.
I think about what I already know about Hawk.
He shared a little when I said I’d lost my mom.
Maybe if I hadn’t had a supportive father, I might have made different choices in life too.
I don’t know. But I guess it doesn’t really matter after all.
I’m not going to see Hawk again—unless he comes back into the salon miraculously.
“I’ve got to say,” Clara continues, massaging my scalp and neck, “I wouldn’t mind a stand-up guy like that. Have you seen what’s out there on the apps?” She scoffs. “I’ll take a criminal who’s up front about their shit over a guy who has a whole wife and kids on the side.”
I mumble in agreement. “It’s rough out there,” I say, “and he is freaking hot.”
“Hawk?” Clara’s fingers still for just a moment. “Girl, I’m glad you said it. Fuck yeah, he is.”