Chapter 29
Marissa
I smell my bouquet again. I can’t stop touching the roses’ delicate petals.
I can’t remember the last time I was on a date. I truly can’t.
All I know is, I refuse to categorize that New Year’s party (or any club gatherings for that matter) as a date.
The gorgeous dress the girls got me was obviously chosen by Lucy. It’s in the vintage style she loves, with a full skirt that stops mid-calf, and it makes me feel elegant, refined, and unbelievably beautiful.
When Hawk sees me, his eyes dart all over me, like they’re trying to notice every single thing, until they reach my lips, which they can’t seem to move away from.
Then he says, “You had red lipstick on when I saw you for the first time.”
I knew he’d remember. “I figured it was only right to wear it for our first official date.”
“I’ve thought of little else since then,” Hawk says quietly, almost to himself, then looks me in the eye. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous, you know that, right?”
“I do now.”
Hawk sings along to the CD, and it’s as adorably off-key as ever. The song is vaguely familiar. He reaches for my hand and kisses my fingertips, and they tingle as he continues serenading me.
I smile while shaking my head, like he’s being silly, but I’m flattered and delighted that he thinks I’m a witchy woman.
“I saw the piece you were working on earlier,” Hawk tells me as we look over the menu. “You’re getting really good. Professional-level good.”
There it is again, the shyly blooming pride.
“Thanks. I enjoy embroidering more than words can say. I think that was a big part of why I chose to apprentice with Cotton.”
“I’m happy that you discovered something you like doing,” he says with a smile.
“I know a week is a short time to get to know a job, and I haven’t done much besides sanding or carving patterns into leftover pieces of wood, but I found myself looking forward to going to work every day, and that’s how I chose.”
“The gut knows,” Hawk says with a nod.
“So… Raven. Why that road name?” He asks when our overeager waitress finally leaves.
“It was a couple of things,” I say. “I have raven black hair, as your song says.”
“Your song, you mean,” he replies playfully, and we share a look. “And the other thing?” He asks after a while.
I look away while I reply, “I wanted us both to be birds.”
Hawk’s rough, warm palm covers my hand, and I turn it over so our palms can kiss.
“I love it. It suits you better than jay.”
I grin. “Thank you.”
“Do ravens mate for life?”
“I don’t know, actually. We need to look that up.”
“I know hawks do,” he tells me pointedly.
“Good to know,” I say with a small smile, then clear my throat. “I have a gift for you,” I tell him.
“Oh?” Hawk looks intrigued.
“I hope you’ll like it.”
I sit on my hands as he slowly unpacks the patch I embroidered for him. He stares at it for a long time without saying anything.
“It’s a hawk,” I explain nervously, and he huffs a little laugh.
“I can see that. What I’m trying to figure out is how you managed to give it so much dignity and character, not to mention this hyper-realistic look.”
I’m not gonna cry. I’m not.
I sniff. “So you like it?”
“Marissa, baby,” he says as he stands up and pulls me up and into a hug. “I love it. It’s the best and most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. Thank you so much. We’re putting this on my cut first thing in the morning.”
When we return to our chairs, Hawk looks at me expectantly. “Can I give you your gift now? I didn’t want to do it at the party.”
Inside the box, there are tubes and papers and a… funnel? I scan the papers with a frown.
Ancestry kit
Saliva
DNA
“What is this?” I finally ask.
“There’s this company that you send some of your saliva to, and they test your DNA, and sometimes they’re able to find your relatives or tell you more about your ancestry.”
Hawk suddenly looks very blurry.
“This is so thoughtful. I didn’t even know something like this existed.”
“Neither did I. Cash wanted to invest some of the club’s money in this one, so we vetted them. They’re legit.”
“Thank you,” I whisper through tears.
Hawk kisses my hand in response, and then the waitress arrives with our orders. She makes sure to touch Hawk’s shoulder as she puts his plate in front of him.
As we eat, I realize I can’t blame her. The man sitting across from me not only looks and smells amazing, but he also exudes authority and self-assuredness.
I don’t know if it’s the suit, the shaved head and muscular build, or that cop posture he always adopts when we’re in public.
And he keeps touching me! Nothing too overt: a hand on my lower back as we walk to our table, his knee against mine, his thumb brushing my lower lip after giving me a bite of his food - but it makes the whole evening feel like slow, tantalizing foreplay.
I squirm in my seat, and, judging by the way he narrows his eyes at me, he knows why.
The chef comes over to our table, and I think I manage to thank him for the excellent meal, but at this point, who knows?
In the car, Hawk helps me with my seatbelt, and when his forearm brushes against them, my nipples pop out excitedly. I can’t thank the Lord enough that this dress is black.
During the drive home, all I can focus on is Hawk’s hand in my lap. Several times, I have to sternly warn myself not to move it a tiny bit.
“Oh, thank God,” Hawk breathes as we enter Rat Park.
He carelessly parks in his driveway and pulls me in for a kiss.
“I wanted to pull over several times, but I was worried you’d judge me for not being able to control myself,” he says between kisses.
“No judgment here,” I mumble into his mouth, hoping he can make the words out, “I was too busy trying not to put your hand between my legs.”
Hawk groans and puts his forehead to mine. “Let’s go inside.”
We stumble up the stairs, never really breaking our makeout session. Somewhere along the way, Hawk takes his jacket off.
“You are heartstoppingly beautiful, Marissa,” Hawk tells me between open-mouthed kisses. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you the entire evening.”
“I’m wearing my new panties,” I tell him in response to that because, clearly, my brain has left the building.
“Let me see,” he urges in a husky voice. “Get on the bed, baby, show me.”
I brazenly and slowly lower myself onto the bed, and on my way down, decide to tease him by showing him my ass. Being on all fours in front of him feels naughty, and I have a newfound appreciation for the glass wall next to his bed, because I want to watch his reaction.
His rapid breathing tells me I’ve made the right choice. The mattress behind me dips as he climbs up to lift the skirt of my dress, painfully slowly. He makes sure to drag his palms over the back of my thighs as he does it.
“Marissa,” he says casually, like he’s talking about the weather, “I want to eat your pussy until you come all over my face.”
My eyes widen as my lower body jerks towards him. Hawk puts his big hands on my butt and caresses and kneads until I start squirming. His forehead is wrinkled in concentration, and his dress pants are tented.
Thank God I showered and shaved before our date, I think as he takes my fancy new panties off. The practical thought feels like an interloper, so I push it away.
At the same time, I’m growing more and more nervous. Hawk has been wordlessly staring at my bare behind for a while now. He pulls my cheeks apart slightly to get a better look, and I’m so syrupy wet that it produces an obscenely rude sound. Instead of being as mortified as I am, Hawk moans.
He then presses his hot, eager mouth against my pussy, and grabs my love handles to hold me in place. He strokes me with his tongue, every movement precise and measured. I should’ve known from the way he kisses that it would be this good.
When he comes up for air, he murmurs, “I fucking love how wet you are for me, baby,” and then continues ravenously eating me.
He’s buried his entire face in my backside, and his nose is teasing my opening as he French-kisses my clit. I thrust back at him, trying to get more friction against his stubble and nose.
Hawk likes it so much that he moans into my pussy. The reverberations are the hottest thing I’ve ever felt.
This is the first time a man is acting like I’m doing him a huge favor by letting him give me head. Being at the center of sex like this is intoxicating.
My loud, hoarse moans surprise me. I’ve never been this vocal in bed before, but I can’t help it, especially whenever my eyes land on our reflection in the glass.
My tall, muscular man, who looks like he’s just come out of a business meeting in a white shirt and dress pants, is gripping the sides of my thighs like his life depends on it while his head is buried in my behind.
I look like a prim and proper 50s housewife from the waist up, and from the waist down, I’m Hawk’s personal plaything that’s eagerly grinding up on his face.
The thought of someone seeing the two of us like this threatens to push me over the edge.
I keep calling out to him, begging for him to save me somehow. As the sensations inside me expand and travel through my body, it’s almost too much, and I briefly worry that I’m going to die.
When Hawk’s tongue flicks the underside of my swollen clit just right, the tremble inside my body spirals out of control, and I jerk and squirm all over his face.
As the sweet relief of my orgasm rushes through me, I start laughing - an exhilarated, freeing belly laugh that ends in teary eyes.
Luckily, Hawk doesn’t misunderstand.
I’m lying on my back now, stomach muscles still trembling with the aftershocks of his handiwork (mouthwork?), and he kneels above me with a gentle, yet cocky smile on his face.
The lower half of his face is glistening wet, and my greedy insides pulse at the sight. The sensation is pretty uncomfortable so soon after my orgasm.
Then I notice the dark, wet stain at the front of his pants.
Is it possible he came just from this?
He sees me staring and gives me a shy half-shrug. “I liked eating you out. A lot.”
“I can see that.” The husky, seductive words are unlike me.
They sound like the words of a woman who’s used to rendering men a helpless, leaky mess.
“I hope you liked your celebration,” Hawk tells me as he positions me as his little spoon after we shower and change into our pajamas.
Surrounded by the safety of his arms, I drift off to sleep before I can respond.