Craving Hawk (The Aces' Sons 3)

“It still stinks,” I said slowly as he turned to glare at me.

“It’ll air out. Now get the fuck in,” he said, gesturing to the pile of sleeping bags.

“But—”

“Heather,” he cut me off warningly.

I glanced at the front of the tent again, wondering if I should just go back inside and try to sleep there… then an arm wrapped around my waist and I was pulled flat on my back.

“Get under the top one,” Tommy ordered gruffly, pulling at the sleeping bag under my ass.

He helped me get situated, and by the time I had a thick sleeping bag pulled all the way up to my shoulder, I finally felt like I could breathe again without ingesting toxic fumes.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he started unbuttoning his pants.

“Not sleepin’ in my jeans,” he muttered as he arched his back until only his shoulders were against the ground. “I got boxers on.”

I was mesmerized as he slid the jeans off his hips and then dropped his ass to the ground so he could pull them off his legs. He wasn’t wearing a shirt—which hadn’t really fazed me because it was summer and he was shirtless all the time—but that was before he’d taken off his pants, too. Now, I couldn’t seem to look away from the muscles flexing in his chest and stomach as he scooted into the sleeping bags with me.

“Come ’ere,” he ordered gruffly, straightening his arm so I could slide in against him.

I didn’t protest as I curled up against his side. He curved his arm down my back until I was wedged beneath his armpit. For how smelly his tent had been, I was surprised that suddenly all I could smell was clean skin and the hint of some sort of manly deodorant.

“I’m not tired now,” I whispered, my eyes wide. I couldn’t see much in the shadowy tent, but I couldn’t miss his white smile in the darkness.

“Want me to wear you out?” he asked teasingly, his fingers sliding a little farther down my back as he pulled me tighter against him.

“Nope,” I replied quickly. I was pretty sure he could feel my heart pounding where it was pressed against the side of his chest.

I closed my eyes as he chuckled softly, the sound almost soothing. Within a couple minutes, I was out.

* * *

I woke up to people talking right outside the tent, and laid there for a few minutes, smiling at their comments.

“What the hell?”

“Got tired of smellin’ his own stink, I’m guessin’.”

“Charlie, don’t touch those, baby girl. God only knows what’s on ’em.”

“Jesus Christ. I really hope my nephew didn’t buy those boxers himself.”

“Get outta here. Boy hasn’t slept in this late for years, let the kid get some sleep.”

“It’s ten in the goddamn mornin’!”

“And he needs to clean this shit up.”

“I’m awake,” Tommy growled from behind me, his arm tightening around my waist. “Get the fuck away from my tent!”

Someone started laughing, and after a minute we could hear them moving away from us.

“I told you this tent was rank,” I said smugly, relaxing back against the arm I was using as a pillow. Sometime in the night, we’d switched positions, and I could feel the front of Tommy pressed tightly against my back. It took everything I had not to roll my hips against his. I probably should have been embarrassed or something, but I wasn’t. It was what it was. I slept in his bed, and we’d ended up wrapped around each other.

Even though most of the time he was a complete asshole, I couldn’t really complain. I was warm and cozy; I could hear birds chirping and kids playing. A cool breeze was filtering in through the tent’s mesh ceiling, and I had a large palm pressed against my ribs right below my breasts. There were worse ways to wake up.

“Wanna make it even dirtier?” he mumbled, biting down on the back of my neck and making me squeak in surprise.

He rolled his hips against mine and I inhaled sharply. Oh, damn. I hadn’t been willing to start that particular game, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to turn it down.

“This isn’t a good idea,” I replied, arching my back just a little so my ass pressed against his hips.

“It’s a fuckin’ great idea,” he argued, his hand sliding up to capture a breast as he ground his hips against me. “All I’d have to do…” His words trailed off as his hand left my breast, sliding down my side until he’d reached my shorts.

His fingers trailed along the waistband for only a second before his hand flattened against my hip. Slowly he smoothed it down the side of my shorts until he reached bare skin. When he gripped my thigh, I let out a small groan and let him pull my leg up and over his.