He picks me up, tosses me not too gently over his shoulder and walks me into the clubhouse, passing the other members of his team and ours who are looking on as he carries me up the stairs.
Hawg isn’t easy when we get to my room. He doesn’t kiss me or tell me it’s all right. Instead, he watches me with that smoldering intensity as he pulls my shirt over my head, then removes my bra and the rest of my clothes until I’m standing completely bare in front of him.
He sits me on the mattress and presses a hand to my chest, pressing me back into the softness while standing between my legs.
Only then does he pull out a pair of silver handcuffs from his vest and crawl over the top of me. Straddling me with his powerful thighs. He plays with the cuffs right over my face, closing and opening them just stretching out the anticipation of what’s to come until he attaches me to the bed and slowly removes his clothes.
I swallow, watching as my body heats, each muscle coming into view.
Because this punishment, there’s no way I don’t want it. I crave it from the man who is strong and powerful enough to protect me and caring and gentle enough to make me know how much he cares.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to surrender so easily…
I buck my hips up as far and high as they can go. He grabs my thighs, keeping them caged with his hands and spreads them apart before lowering his head and blowing on my center. His hot breath blows against the red heat of my center, with no way to get away or escape.
“I want you.”
Hawg grins, his dick hard and erect against me, flaming off heat against my skin that I didn’t think could ignite until now.
“Hawg!” I cry out as the length of his fingers rub me down below, over and over against that special button, bringing me right to the very edge, only to stop and let the feeling go. I’m almost delirious with need before he relents, and when he finally lets me come, I scream his name so loud that I’m sure every Harlot in this club can hear me climaxing in the middle of the day.
32
HAWG
I’m sitting outside of the Harlots’ clubhouse downing a bottle of water, distracted beyond hell, trying to figure out how I’m supposed to protect and safeguard Onyx if she continually insists on safeguarding herself and even trying to protect me. Never once have I had this problem, but I’ve never once dated a Royal Harlot.
A cop car drives by slowly, circles back and then stops, the officer staring at me from his spot in the parking lot. There’s nothing in or around this clubhouse that would go against the city ordinance, give or take a few minor violations that no beat cop in his right mind is going to waste their time on.
Protective instincts kick in.
What if he’s on the payroll of the Desert Riders or Scorpions? Then we have a fucking problem with not only the MC clubs but the police, too. Which doesn’t make a bit of sense because we haven’t heard one word back from the police after the fire that fatally killed one of the Scorpions’ new recruits.
But there’s no doubt this guy isn’t moving on, and I’m not liking this at all.
So many things could be at play here. He’s still sitting there after another ten minutes. Maybe they’re not on the enemy’s payroll, but maybe on the Larussios’. I mull that around a bit watching the guy watch me from my chair outside the door.
The Larussios may not have a firm grip here in Phoenix, but they have strong connections, and they have us. They’re sure as fuck making their presence known as they work diligently to take over territory in Arizona. And the police are still investigating that fuck who put hands on Shine and got what he deserved.
Who knows what this officer wants … so I wait.
The clean-cut, uniformed man gets out of his police car and closes the distance between him and me. He flashes me a badge. “I’m looking for a man named Hawg,” he says.
I give him a nod. “You found him. What can I do for you?”
“My partner was out the other night when a bike went up in the alley. I’m just following up on a couple questions that I have.”
“Feel free to take a seat.” I gesture to the two lawn chairs sitting under the wood pergola that have seen better days. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to help much, but I’ll tell you everything that I know about that night.”
He takes a seat next to me. “My brother and I, we’ve both gone different ways in life. His best friend got messed up with a biker gang and my brother went that way too. My dad was a cop, and I followed in his footsteps. As you can imagine, I have a soft spot for both.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
He shrugs. “Maybe I was just hoping that you’d tell me something that could help me. My brother never did and now he’s dead.”
“You have something to do with that?” I ask the uniform.
His dark brown eyes meet mine. “Not a fucking thing, but there’s not a day that goes by that I didn’t wish I could havestepped in and done something more. He was fucking innocent, but because he ran with a notorious MC club, they pinned that fucking murder on him.”
