13. Hawk
Hawk
When I wake up the next morning, there are no signs of life coming from my bedroom.
After carrying Veronica into my bed, I’d set her on top of the covers fully dressed and then covered her with a light blanket. The nights get cool out here by the water, but in jeans and a top, I was sure she’d be warm enough.
I rub the sleep out of my eyes, take a piss, wash my hands, and brush my teeth. I come up here at least once or twice a month, so there will be fresh coffee but only sugar.
I start the coffee and am just turning to grab a bottle of water from the fridge when I hear the light pad of footsteps coming into the kitchen.
“Good morning.” Her words are oddly formal for a woman who ground herself across my lap last night. But she’s probably feeling a lot more regret about that than she is about how much she drank. I shove any hope that we’d pick up where we left off last night into the darkest parts of me.
“Morning, sweetheart. I’ve got coffee and water,” I tell her.
Her hair is a little mussed, finger-combed at best, and she’s still wearing the clothes I put her to bed in.
She cocks her chin at me and worries her brows together in the cutest way.
“Coffee,” she repeats, sounding unnerved.
“You were a perfect gentleman last night,” she tells me with a chuckle.
“You didn’t take advantage of me, even though you damn well could have. ”
“Why do you sound like you’re not happy about that?” I ask, the smell of coffee filling the kitchen.
She sits down at the kitchen table and peers out through the windows. The sun is sparkling across the small lake behind the cottage. “I was having a great time with you,” she admits.
“So was I,” I assure her. “And I wanted it to stay a great time. Nothing changes a good night into a bad memory like a drunken decision.”
I pour two cups of coffee and set them down on the table. “Sugar? I may have some of that powdered creamer in the cabinet, but no fresh milk.”
She nods. “A little sugar would be great.”
I hand her a spoon along with a few packets of sugar, and I sit down across from her. “You want to shower? I left a spare toothbrush in the bathroom for you.”
“I saw it,” she says, her eyes staring down into her cup. “Thank you.”
We sip our coffee, and it hits me that this is something I never once did with Sadie.
Sip coffee at the table. Swing out over the water.
Sadie wants the cottage now because of what it’s worth financially.
She was never interested in sharing a bathroom with me, in the worn furnishings and dated exterior.
A cold knot of regret sticks in my chest, and I feel the need to physically clear my throat to get rid of it. The past, all the pain, none of that belongs here. The cottage is my refuge, and I have a woman here now who looks like she’s ready to leave. I shouldn’t be surprised.
“I’ll call Hank as soon as you’re ready,” I tell her. “He’ll bring us back to my bike, and I’ll get you home.”
She sips her coffee and sets the empty mug on the table across from mine. “Hawk,” she says, her voice thick. She meets my eyes. “If I hadn’t been drunk, or tipsy, what would have happened last night?”
“Would have been entirely up to you, babe. Whatever you wanted, that’s what would have happened.
” I lick my lips, a tightening in my gut telling me to be straight with her.
Pull no punches. I may not have a chance with this woman, or any woman like her, but she’s not demanding to be taken home.
She’s here and looking very much like she’s got something to say.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask. “No need to fuck around.”
She draws her lower lip into her mouth and bites down on it. “I don’t throw myself at men. I am just sort of processing why you didn’t want the same thing I did. I thought we were—”
I cut her off. “Oh, we most definitely fucking were. Make no mistake about that. I only had one date with you. I wasn’t about to leave you with a bad taste for me and a few beers.” The corner of my mouth quirks up. “You wanna pick up where we left off?”
She’s quiet, looking at the empty mug like the answer is there. But then she meets my eyes. “I most definitely fucking do.”
She echoes my words, and I almost laugh out loud, but I’m not about to waste energy. I’m on my feet so fast, the kitchen chair falls onto its back with a clatter.
Veronica watches me with wide eyes, and I come around the sturdy round wooden table that’s been in this house since Ken bought it.
“Hawk?” Veronica looks at me, a question on her stunning face. In the bright morning light, I can see the gold in her hazel eyes.
I pull her close to me and pick up where we left off last night.
My lips claim hers, and it’s like no time has passed since our first kiss on the swing.
I taste her softly at first, the sweetness of her coffee flavoring her lips.
I flick my tongue along her plush lower lip, and she moans, sagging against me and parting those strawberry-red lips to give me entrance.
I sweep my tongue against hers, and the moan in her throat rockets my dick to full mast. I cup her generous ass, my fingers tight against the rear pockets of her jeans. I breathe her name against her mouth, worshipping the feel of her.
I release her and, with the back of my arm, swipe the plastic coffee mugs and even the sugar packets off the table. They fall to the floor with a thud. “Table,” I grunt.
She cocks her head and raises her brows, but I fumble at the button that holds her jeans closed and she seems to get the message.
She helps me, working the button free and wriggling the denim past her hips and thighs.
I take over from there, dropping to my knees and pulling the material toward her ankles.
I stop at her pussy, the panties the only barrier between me and her body.
“I want to taste you,” I tell her. “I’m going to devour you, and I want to hear you scream.”
I hook my fingers into the waist of her panties and look up at her from where I’m kneeling, eyes to pussy. “Last chance, babe. You sure?”
Her answer is shoving my hands away from her body and yanking her panties to the floor herself. She steps out of her jeans and underwear, then shimmies out of her top, pulling the bra with it.
The sight of her is glorious. I want to take in every inch of her skin, the thick nipples pebbled to hard points in the cool air.
The curve of her thighs, luscious and full.
But the sight of her pussy, the pale hair just a few shades darker than her golden highlights, has my cock so hard I can’t think straight.
I pick her up by the waist, set her down on the table, thanking the gods of woodworking that this thing is strong enough to withstand what I plan to do to this woman.
I stay on my knees but spread hers wide. I don’t waste time thinking. I brace my hands on her knees, holding her wide open, and then explore that perfect cunt with the tip of my tongue. I pull her clit into my mouth, teasing it, sucking it, and pinching it between my lips.
I dig my fingers into her knees, probably hard enough to leave marks, but I know I’m not hurting her because her hands are cemented to mine, her fingers clawing at me in ecstasy.
“How do you like to be sucked, Veronica?” I purr against her folds, licking and lapping until she’s writhing against my mouth.
She wriggles her hips in long, slow, sensual movements, unhurried and so goddamn sexy I wish I could both watch her and pleasure her at the same time.
“I’m going to finger-fuck you, and I want your come all over my mouth, do you understand me?” I demand.
“God, yes,” she moans, releasing her hold on my hands.
She moves her hands to cup her tits as I slide two fingers into my mouth to wet them. I enter her slowly, dragging those fingers up her inner walls and back down as I withdraw. I keep my mouth on her clit as I work my fingers inside her.
She writhes and moans, riding my face. I’m so close to coming in my pants from watching her. If she doesn’t come soon…
“Hawk,” she warns, her hands leaving her tits and threading through my hair. “Oh God.” She gasps and moans, whimpers and wriggles until I feel her yank hard on my hair, jamming my mouth against her clit. “Fuck, oh my God, fuck.”
She is fucking heaven.
When she finally stills, she releases my hair. “Did I hurt you?” she whispers.
I shush her, wanting her to enjoy the come down as much as the ride. I plant kisses along the inside of both thighs, kneading the muscles of her calves while her breathing slows. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I tell her. “My God, you’re like a goddess.”
“How are your knees?” she finally asks.
“Probably about the same as your back,” I chuckle.
I stand, the cracking of my joints the only complaint she’ll hear from me about what we just did. Then I take her hand and help her off the table.
“I’ll wash that,” she says with a giggle.
I shake my head. “There’s something else I want from you.” My expression must be as dark as my words, because all the humor leaves her face, and her cheeks flush an even deeper pink.
“What is that?” she asks, but it’s not a fearful question. Unless I’m wrong, she wants more too.
“Turn around,” I tell her.
She does as I say, and I palm her generous ass, smiling at the impressions the wooden table has left in her flesh. I trail light fingertips over the marks. “Sorry, Grandpa Ken,” I say with a chuckle.
“At least your mugs didn’t break. But there’s sugar…”
She stops speaking when she hears me unzip my jeans.
“I’m on the pill,” she offers. “I haven’t been with anyone in—”
I don’t want to know the details. I reach for the junk drawer where I keep a sleeve of condoms. I tear the foil, slide it on, and nudge Veronica toward the sink.
She braces her hands on the farm-style porcelain while I rub the tip of my cock along her ass cheeks. My God, this woman. She’s thick, lush, and sexy. I don’t know what primal instinct she unleashes in me, but I want to mark her with my hands, my tongue, my cock.
I stroke my erection through that intensely fucking sexy valley where her cheeks meet, and she’s still so wet, my cock slides against her pussy. I’m behind her, holding her hips, and she lowers her head, exposing her long, beautiful back to me.
I brush her hair to one side so I can kiss her bare flesh while I stroke my shaft along her sated clit.
She groans and shoves her ass back against me, opening her legs to admit me inside.
But I’m in no hurry. This is our first and probably last date, and I want to make this pleasure last. I stroke her slowly at first, holding her ass cheeks in my hands, my mouth tasting the skin of her shoulder.
When she starts whimpering and working her hips against mine, I angle myself and thrust deep, sliding past her swollen pussy until I’m fully inside her. I fuck her hard, working my hips and murmuring against her skin.
Her cries of yes and please set my pace into high gear, and I bang her, hard and hungry, from behind. When I’m about to come, which happens way too damn fast, she’s pressed against the cold sink, her back glistening with sweat.
“Fuck, agh, fuck.” I throw my head back and nut hard, spasm after spasm of pleasure flooding the condom as I feel her pussy clench down on me.
Once I’m done, I drop my head against her bare back and pant heavily against her skin.
Neither one of us moves. We breathe in shuddering, panting gasps, and I curve my hands around her front to cup her tits until I have the strength to open my eyes.
As my cock softens, I shake my head and sigh, a chest full of feeling making it hard to get the words out. “I am so goddamn hot for teacher.”