“Then we keep fighting,” he said.
For once, I didn’t pull away.
He took my hand and guided me to his room. Where a table full of maps and papers was stacked in neat piles. “Youshould lie down and get some rest. I think you should take a break. This is going deeper than we thought. I think you need to back away and let us handle this. We can’t go barreling in. We have to keep our heads.”
My blood snapped hot. “Don’t you dare put this on me. You’re the one barreling after him like some mountain bull with a death wish! I will not back away!”
His head snapped up, eyes burning. “Because someone has to! And I’m not letting you be the bait he’s salivating over. They want to take you out.”
I shoved him, hard, chest to chest. “You don’tletme do anything, Hawk. I’m not yours to protect like some fragile thing you tuck away!”
His hands caught my arms, grip rough, holding me in place. “The hell you’re not mine.”
The air charged between us, hotter than any firefight. My heart hammered, fury and want tangling so tight I couldn’t tell one from the other.
I should’ve pushed him back. Should’ve walked away. Instead, I fisted his shirt and yanked him down into me.
The kiss was hard, angry, teeth and fire. His mouth crushed mine, fierce and claiming, and I gave back every ounce of it. His hands slid up into my hair, anchoring me, while my body pressed flush against his, desperate, reckless.
When he broke for breath, his voice was ragged, raw. “You drive me insane. Just like you always have.”
I gasped against his lips, biting back a shaky laugh. “Good. Now you know how I feel.”
And then we stopped talking.
The map on the table crumpled under my back as he lifted me onto it, his body pinning mine, heat pouring through me in waves. Boots scuffed on wood, papers fluttered to the floor, and somewhere in the back of my mind, Ithought—if whoever is messed up in this wanted to see us break, he’d never get that satisfaction.
Because Hawk and I didn’t break.
We burned.
“Julia,” he moaned.
His mouth claimed mine again, rough and demanding, as if every word we’d thrown at each other needed to be burned away. I yanked at his shirt, fingers fisting in the fabric until it tore loose from his waistband. He growled into the kiss, deep and low, then lifted me higher on the table, sending maps and radios to the floor with one sweep of his arm.
“Hawk—” I gasped as his lips traced down my throat, his three days of whiskers scraping heat into my skin.
“You don’t listen,” he muttered against me, his voice dark, vibrating through my bones. His hands slid under my jacket, palms hot on my ribs. “You never listen.”
“Then make me,” I hissed, arching into him, daring him.
He did.
His mouth found mine again, hard enough to bruise, as his hands stripped my jacket and shirt in one furious motion. My breath caught as cool air hit my bare skin, then his heat was on me again, pinning me, grounding me.
I clawed at his belt, ripping it loose, every move fast and desperate. The table creaked under us as he shoved my legs apart, stepping between them like he’d been born to fit there. His hands gripped my thighs, pulling me closer, until I felt the solid, undeniable truth of just how much he wanted me.
“Hawk,” I whispered, not angry now, not even close.
His eyes met mine, blazing with something that was equal parts fury and devotion. “You’re mine, Julia. Always.”
The words undid me.
He surged into me in one fierce motion, and the world fractured. My cry broke against his mouth as he swallowed it, devouring me like he couldn’t get close enough. Everythrust was rough, urgent, but underneath the anger was desperation—like he had to prove I was here, alive, his.
I clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, back arching as the bed shook under us. I wondered when he had carried me to his bed. My body moved with his, every slam and drag winding me tighter, pulling me to the edge.
“Say it,” he demanded, breath ragged. “Say you’re mine.”
