Craving Hawk (The Aces' Sons 3)

Chapter 1

Heather

“The fuck are you doing?”

I opened my eyes and turned my head, looking up at the dark shadow blocking out the night sky. It was big and looming over me threateningly. I closed my eyes again.

“I’m enjoying this little piece of freedom,” I murmured, running my arms and legs through the grass like I was making a snow angel. “Grass against my skin, stars above me, I can almost pretend I’m in the field behind my apartment building.”

“Christ,” the shadow muttered. I heard the flick of a lighter, then got a whiff of the first puff of his cigarette. “You do this shit behind those apartments you live in? Just waitin’ around for some junkie to come lookin’ for some cash or pussy?”

“That’s a poor view of the world around you,” I replied, opening my eyes again. “I’ve never been approached by a junkie, thank you very much.”

“Only takes once. What are you gonna do? Fight ’em off with those claws you got?”

“What’s wrong with my fingernails?” I snapped, sitting straight up.

“Nothin’ if you’re plannin’ on diggin’ up a corpse or some shit. How do you even get yourself off without needin’ stitches?”

My jaw dropped open and it took me a minute to even formulate a reply, which then pissed me off more than his question had. “I’m seeing someone,” I snapped back. “He gets me off.”

“Brave fucker. Wouldn’t let those hands anywhere near my dick.” His words were so derisive, so disgusted, that I didn’t even think before swinging the back of my hand directly at the front of his jeans. Bulls-eye. For a fraction of a second, my mind registered how big he was even though he wasn’t even remotely hard, then I closed down that train of thought.

He dropped to his knees as soon as my hand made contact, and his cigarette got lost in the grass as both hands went down to protect his junk from further attack. I felt triumphant as I waited for him to groan or whine or make some sort of noise, but he didn’t. He just sucked in a quick breath, let it out from his nose, and slowly dropped his hands to his sides.

The minute his eyes met mine, I knew I’d fucked up big time.

“I’ve never hit a woman,” he ground out. “But if I was goin’ to, that’d be the fuckin’ reason.”

I scrambled backward across the field until I was sure he couldn’t leap out and grab me, then climbed silently to my feet, never taking my eyes off of his face. “That’s the only time my hand will be anywhere near your penis.” I tried to say it confidently, but the words came out warbly. His dark brown eyes were almost impossible to see in the darkness, but I could feel his stare.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, climbing gracefully to his feet again as he adjusted the front of his jeans. I forced myself to keep my eyes on his face and not on the motion of his hand. “Didn’t want in there when we were in school, didn’t plan on getting in there now.”

“Like I would have ever let you,” I hissed, backing away from him. I wasn’t sure how big his balls were, but they must have been massive to say something so ridiculous with absolutely no hesitation.

“Nah, you liked Micky, yeah? Loved that kid.” He tilted his head to the side like he was trying to figure me out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shot back, fisting my hands.

“I saw all that shit.”

“No, you didn’t. I never had a thing for Michael. He was too young for me, he—” my eyelid began to twitch. I wanted so badly to punch him in the face. My relationship with Mick was none of his fucking business. It had never been his business. It would never be his business. My memories were just that—mine.

“You dug him. Everyone saw it. Everyone said shit,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken.

“I-I,” the words were caught in my throat as I thought about the boy who’d seen me for who I actually was. He’d seen past the mohawk and the neon blue lipstick. In a school that had a defined set of beauty standards, Mick had been one of the only boys who’d looked at me like I was something special. Not a fetish. Not a chance at freaky sex—because of course the girl with the mohawk wanted crazy sex. “We were friends. I tutored him,” I said stubbornly, taking another step back.

“You never woulda had him,” he murmured back, stepping toward me. “He wasn’t into you.”

“Fuck you,” I whispered, a lump forming in the back of my throat.

“Liked you, sure.”

“Shut up,” I muttered.

“Thought you were cool, thought you were smart, thought you were funny.”

“Shut up.”

“Wasn’t attracted to ya though.”