Chapter Eight
Hawk
There’s nothing that can bring a man to his knees more than seeing his woman suffer. Watching the tears on Amelia’s face as she packs away her broken violin stirs something in me.
I was perilously close to losing my mind when I walked into that waiting room to see Amelia suffering while everyone sat back and watched. Even now, I find the whole incident unforgivable, unsure of how I’ll react when I’m forced to interact with these people in the future.
I step in and wrap my arms around my wife’s shoulders, pulling her against me. “Don’t cry, angel,” I say, brushing my lips on her temples before pushing back to kiss her brows and her wet cheeks. “I made a call—someone will be here soon with another violin.”
She offers a teary smile. “Thank you.”
I tug her ear playfully, and something in me eases when she laughs.
It isn’t long before I spot Kyle running down the hallway toward us with a case in his hands.
It seems the club wives watching Wren at my place decided to send the ever-dependable prospect to bring the instrument.
He’s panting when he skids to a stop in front of us, face flushed and red hair mussed.
“I was told it was a matter of life or death,” he pants, wiping sweat from his brow. “Is this the right one?”
Amelia nods, taking the case from Kyle before kneeling to open it.
Inside is the violin she plays for Wren every night to help her fall asleep.
“It makes sense,” she chuckles, running her fingers lovingly over the gleaming wood.
“This violin was my grandfather’s. Maybe I was meant to audition with this one, the violin he always played for me, the one I’ve played to help Wren sleep. ”
She smiles as her name is called. “I’ll be right back,” she says, closing the case and getting to her feet.
Before she can leave, I grab her waist and pull her to me, kissing her long and deep, unconcerned by the audience.
She grabs my collar and pushes into the kiss and when we break apart, the sadness that was present in her eyes earlier has eased.
“You’re the best I’ve ever heard, baby. You’ve got this.”
I watch her leave and everything in me wants to follow her into the music room. Protect her from everything and everyone who’s ever made her doubt her skills. Fuckers.
“I once attended an orchestra concert when I was fifteen. I thought it was cool,” Kyle muses from beside me. I turn to look at the man in surprise. I’ve never heard him listen to anything but hard metal. You think you know someone.
“Thank you for what you did today. I owe you one,” I tell the prospect, clapping his shoulder.
“Maybe you can get me a ticket to their next concert.”
I laugh. “You got it.”
Long after Kyle has left, I start pacing, confused by how long this thing is supposed to take. The others were out in five, but Amelia has been in there for nearly fifteen minutes. I clench my hand at the thought of them bullying her again. Fuck, they better not be or I will tear this place apart.
Before I can take a step toward the music room, the door bursts open and Amelia steps out. Her head is lowered and when she looks up, I see the tears in her eyes. “Baby, what happened?”
“Not here,” she whispers, glancing at the people who chose to linger. It’s tempting to storm into the music room and make whoever made her cry pay, but she takes my hand and pulls me away. We walk down the corridor and when she opens a door, I see that it’s a changing room.
“Amelia—”
“I got it,” she says, choking on tears. “The first-chair spot, I got it. The judges said they hadn’t heard anything as satisfying all day and they just knew right away. It was a unanimous decision, and I got it.”
“Congratulations, baby.”
She turns away when I go to hug her, making me confused by her actions. The tears in her eyes…they’re not happy tears? What the hell is going on?
“I played that entire piece for them, and all the while, I wasn’t thinking about having a solo performance on stage.
I wasn’t thinking about the lights, or the audience.
” She runs the back of her hand over her wet cheeks but more fall.
“I was thinking about Wren and you. Replaying all the nights I sat by her crib and played for her only to turn around to see you dozing off as well or just watching us from the doorway and…”
“Amelia.”
“Before the two of you, music was the most important thing in my life, but when the judges told me the spot was mine, I couldn’t even celebrate because the whole time I was worried about our future. Yours, mine and Wren’s.”
“Baby, you deserve this win. To celebrate without worrying about—”
“I don’t want to annul the marriage.” She sniffs, wiping at the tears with her sleeves. “I know you probably want to end the marriage now that you don’t have to worry about Wren’s mother coming for her but…I don’t want it to end.”
Stunned, I stand frozen, just staring at her. When I heard about Wren’s mother, the first emotion I experienced was sadness for the unfortunate woman I once shared a night with, and sadness for my daughter for losing a mother she would never get to know, but more than that I felt…panic.
Immense panic at the thought of Amelia cutting ties and asking for an annulment. She’s young and beautiful with extraordinary talent, and a bright future ahead of her. Of course, she wouldn’t want to be saddled with a husband and a child this early in her life.
So after talking to the caseworker, I found myself seated on the steps leading to the courthouse, trying to come to terms with the thought that I might have to let Amelia go.
I wanted to be selfish and keep her in mine and Wren’s lives, but setting her free was the right thing to do. Or so I thought.
“I love you, Hawk,” she says, letting out a slow breath as those teary brown eyes meet mine. “And I want to stay married to you.”
“I almost had myself convinced that I could let you go,” I manage as heavy emotions clog my throat. “Told myself that letting you go was the right thing to do, but I’m not sure if I could have gone through with it. If I could rob Wren and myself of the best thing that’s ever happened to us.”
She sniffs back tears. “You don’t want to annul?”
“There’s no going back to a life before you, Amelia Belton,” I say, backing her over to the small round table pushed into the corner.
“I’ve never felt for another woman anything remotely close to what I feel for you.
” I cup her jaw and stare into those chocolate-brown eyes I fell for the second we met. “I love you, Amelia.”
“You do?”
“Let me show you just how much.”
My mouth slams down on hers in a kiss, my arm going around her waist and lifting her off the floor and onto the table.
I tunnel my hand into her hair and hold her in place as I pour everything into the kiss.
When I thought I was about to lose her, it killed me inside.
Injured something in me that she’d only begun to heal.
I yank her to the edge of the table and lift her left leg to my hip, lining up my dick with her sex and thrusting forward.
It’s not enough with the clothes between us, but I can’t stop.
At the back of my mind I’m reminded that we’re at her workplace and anyone could walk in on us, but I find that I don’t give a fuck.
“Hawk, we shouldn’t do this here,” she whispers against my lips, echoing my thoughts but contradicting her own words by wrapping her arm around my shoulder and rocking against my erection. “What if someone catches us?”
“We’re a newly married couple. It’s to be expected that we’re this reckless,” I say, scaling my hand over her hip and pushing up her skirt.
“You think so?” she breathes, trembling when I slide my hand between her legs. I watch those pretty eyes glaze over when I skim my thumb over her panties, and I groan when I find them drenched.
“I want you,” I growl, burying my face in her neck and savaging her skin as I slip my finger past her panties and into her. She moans when I start thrusting in and out of her wetness, my cock aching in the confines of my jeans. “I need to be inside of you, angel. I can’t fucking wait.”
“Yes,” she pants, her fingers dropping between us to pop open my slacks, frantically tugging at my zipper. “Do it. Want you inside of me, Hawk.”
“Fuck!” I groan when those slender fingers slip into my boxers and stroke my hard cock. With a growl, I slip my finger out of her sodden sex and pull her completely off the table.
She barely has time to react before I spin her around and with my hand on her nape, press her face down on the table. I’m practically panting as I reach into her skirt and yank her panties down before working to tug off my slacks.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard they’ll hear you from the hall,” I growl, kicking her feet wide apart for me as I align my cock with her sex.
“Yes,” she whimpers, arching her hips. I don’t even take a moment to enjoy the sight she’s creating as I slam into her tightness with a deep, guttural groan, losing my damn mind when her wet pussy sheaths my cock tightly.
Mine.
My wife.
“So beautiful. You have no fucking idea how sexy you look right now, baby,” I say thickly, leaning forward to whisper into her ear. “And you’re mine. This perfect pussy and sexy body. All of you.”
“Yours…oh!” she screams when I rear back and then slam forward. I keep my hand tightly fisted in her hair as I bury my cock deep into her. “Oh God.”
“Say it again.”
Yours. Only yours.”
“Damn right,” I grind out as something feral claws in my chest for me to claim her and make her mine so the entire fucking building knows they have me to deal with if they touch a hair on her head. “Mine!”
Whatever control I’ve been grasping until this moment falls away as I start taking her fast and hard against the table, slapping down on her ass with every thrust. My breathing is ragged as I pound my cock into my wife’s tight pussy.
Her cries fill up the room, so she slaps a hand on her mouth to mute them, but I don’t give a fuck who hears us. Who knows.
She’s mine.
A voice in my head chants that over and over again as I take her. I feel her legs begin to tremble and her barely muted cries get choppy, but I’m not too far off. I slide my finger around her and tease her clit as I drill into her faster. I feel the threat of my climax in my seizing muscles.
“Hawk,” she sobs, her pussy clenching around me as rough tremors roll through her body.
I move my hand to squeeze her hips as I thrust into her, and it takes four more before I’m falling off the edge right along with her.
I bury my face into her hair as I flood her womb with my seed, marking her as mine through rough tremors. Pouring my heart and soul into her.
My wife.
Mine.
I straighten up and fasten my pants before spinning her around to face me, taking in her flushed face, mussed hair and dazed eyes. And Christ, she’s so perfect.
“I love you,” I say thickly as my arms come tight around hers, holding us together as all the fears drain from my body. “So beautiful and perfect. All mine.”
“All yours.”
I push back to look at her, wondering yet again what heroic act I committed in my previous life to be rewarded with her in this one. It must have been something grand to have both her and Wren in the same timeline.
“I want to take you somewhere,” I say, helping straighten her clothes and hair. I grab her violin case and take her hand with the other as I lead us out of the room. People call out to congratulate her as we walk out, but I don’t stop, heading straight for my bike.
“Oh my God, is that yours?” she asks when we stop in front of my Harley Davidson Fat Boy Gray Ghost. A limited-edition model I acquired shortly after moving to Chicago. I grab the pink helmet I bought her and turn to her. “I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before.”
“I’ve been riding for as long as you’ve played the violin. You can trust me.”
“Okay,” she says with a grin and I help adjust the helmet on her head and get the violin strapped to her back, then help her onto the bike, guiding her to wrap her arms around my waist when I mount the beast. As she settles in, her scent wraps around me like a field of roses, drowning out all other smells.
I’ve never carried anyone on any of my motorcycles before. My brother called them death traps, and before Amelia, there wasn’t another woman. I never let another woman into this part of my world, but I’m ready to introduce my wife to the other side of me.
The afternoon sun bleeds across the asphalt as I start the engine, and with a twist of the throttle, I pull out onto the street.