“Well, that’s a given,” I admit, “but I don’t want to feel this way. I need casual desperately right now, because if I get burned one more time, Lay … I don’t know…. I just think it’s best to walk away. Damage control. Besides, my heart’s been bruised and battered enough, I don’t need to walk into another situation where I hand him the weapons to hurt me with.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, sister, because his actions are confusing. But I say give him another chance. The whole thing with his brother and then the fight with Vince obviously doused his flame.”
“This coming from the woman who moments ago told me to move on.”
“Um, Hawkin Play? No more words need to be said.” I have to laugh at her logic because lame as it may be, it’s starting to pull me toward her reasoning. “Did you really think dating Chasin’ Mason was going to sate that ache Hawkin created?” She shakes her head and the look on her face says I’ve lost my sanity. “Did Luke bust a nut when you accepted?”
I shrug in response. It’s all I can do because I said yes, but I know in the end, I’ll still tell Luke no.
“At least Luke is easy on the eyes as well as funny. Not a bad way to spend an evening,” she says.
“Yeah …”
“But he’s no rock god.” She purses her lips, hearing the hesitancy in my response. “I get it.”
I can’t really explain it, so I just shake my head. If this is the response he normally receives, no wonder Hawkin has an ego the size of Texas. “He is not a rock god.”
“If he’s not now, he’s well on his way to becoming one and fuck I’ll consider his dick my rock god as long as it’s rolling into me.”
There’s absolutely no response I can give to that comment except to take a long drink of my wine.
“You know you’re thinking it,” she chides me. “Hey, there’s no shame in trying to use Luke to make you forget about Hawkin, but let’s be serious here, there is no chance in hell you’re going to forget about him.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence, Lay.”
My phone rings on the end table beside me, and I glance over at the unknown number and mute the call. When it starts ringing again before I can recall my train of thought, my distracted mind immediately thinks that something’s wrong with my family.
“Hello?”
“So is what you said the other day true?” And just like that, the voice that sounds like sex fills my ears and softens my resistance.
And I don’t want soft. No. When it comes to Hawkin Play, I want hard.
“Not sure what you mean, but why don’t we start with how did you get my phone number?” Irritation masks the rush of desire I feel just beneath the surface. I don’t know what it is about this man that makes me feel like a damn virgin anticipating what her first time will be like.
Because I am far from virginal. And thank God for that because it means I know just what I need. I try not to acknowledge the voice in the back of my head that says and what I need is him.
“You’re my TA, remember? Carla was more than willing to get it for me when I told her I needed to discuss some things with you,” he says with victorious amusement.
“And then what? I don’t answer so you were going to keep calling me back until I did? Stalk much?”
His laugh sounds low and rich. “I’ve learned from the best, just don’t expect me to be throwing any bras at your feet.”
I stifle the laugh as my eyes meet Layla’s and she points to my phone and mouths Hawkin’s name. I nod my head, which earns an arms up in the air in a touchdown motion.
“It takes a lot more than clothing at my feet to make me like you.” Although the image of him naked is a mighty fine way to fill my thoughts.
“Well, Trixie, if my clothing is at your feet, that means you’re in my bed and we’re going to be doing a whole helluva lot more than liking each other.”
Touché. The suggestive arrogance in his tone alongside the quiet promise of his words has me squeezing my thighs together to try to block him out. It’s good in theory anyway. “Semantics,” I tell him, trying to feign nonchalance and get the conversation back toward a neutral topic that will afford me a few more moments of self-restraint. “So what is it that you’re asking me if it’s true or not?”
“If you really are a girl who enjoys easy sex.”
With you I’d be all kinds of easy.
“I don’t believe I said I did easy sex,” I refute. And then I think that if I really did say it, it’s further proof he gets me flustered because that’s not a comment a typical woman would say when trying to resist a man’s advances.
“Yeah, actually you did say it. A man doesn’t forget proclamations like that one.” I can hear the amusement in his voice, the smile on his lips.
“What business is it of yours?” The bitchiness in my tone is part reflex, part resistance, and a huge chunk of losing grip on my resolve.
Hawke’s chuckle again fills the line and saturates my senses among other places. “Well, I’m sitting here licking my ice-cream cone, and I can’t stop thinking how good you tasted the other day with it on my lips … and it makes me wonder how other parts of you taste. And that begs me to wonder how fast I can make you come, how many times I can make you scream my name, how tight and addictive that pussy of yours will feel.” His voice trails off and thank God it does because I don’t think I can handle any more of his wondering.