Home > Sweet Ache (Driven #7)(48)

Sweet Ache (Driven #7)(48)
Author: K. Bromberg

I quickly avert my gaze and hustle down the hallway where I ask a roadie on the way where the nearest bathroom is. I’m confused and sick of the tumultuous feelings that are so foreign to me, the back and forth between sense and lust, head and heart, desire and prudence.

I go through a doorway that leads me into a dressing area of sorts and see the partially opened bathroom door across the room. I have my hand on it, pushing it open timidly, making sure that it’s not occupied when all of a sudden a larger hand slams the door open from behind me.

A startled gasp falls from my lips as I’m jolted forward from the connection of our bodies. He pushes his way into the bathroom and then slams the door behind me.

I know I should be scared shitless, yet not an ounce of fear falls over me because every attuned nerve in my body senses it’s Hawkin. It’s the heady buzz and fluttering in my stomach that I get every time he’s near that gives it away.

This. This feeling is what I should feel for Luke, but don’t.

“Do you have any idea how hot you are?” He growls the words in my ear, the heat of his breath against my skin. “I can’t take my eyes off you. You want me just as bad and yet you don’t want him to know that you’re going home with me tonight do you?”

Every part of me lights up in relief at his statement but at the same time I can’t just up and leave my date. I may be a bitch for wanting Hawkin while I’m with Luke but I’m not that cold-hearted. “I can’t,” I tell him, voice strained with the desire I feel coursing through me, an obvious tell to him how I feel.

“Can’t and want are two different things,” he says, “and I’m not accepting a no.”

I shake my head to contradict him, the “No” about to pass over my lips as he spins me around, backing me up not so gently against the door, and before I can even meet Hawkin’s eyes, his mouth is on mine. I don’t have time to think, only react, and oh how I react.

We become a mass of hands groping, lips bruising, and tongues tasting in a savage union of frustrated lust. Nothing is static for more than a beat as we try to feel our way into each others’ lives. His hand squeezing my ass. My nails digging into his biceps. Teeth nipping lips followed by not so soothing licks because we are so desperate to claim and tempt and take.

All I can think of is more—all I want is more. I know minutes must pass but I swear it feels like fleeting seconds before he drags his lips from mine so that he can stare into my eyes, his labored breaths panting over my lips, swollen from his kiss. “You can tell me no all you want, Q. You can push me, pull my hair … bite me even … but you can’t deny that you want me as much as I want you.”

His words are an incendiary match to the emotions simmering within me. I want to act on them, but he’s just annihilated my wits with his mouth—words and kisses. I shake my head side to side as I try to process, not realizing that he thinks I’m disagreeing. Before I can speak he leans in closer and says, “Make me believe you don’t want me.”

In a heartbeat his mouth is back on mine with a volatile intensity that even if I wanted to resist, I wouldn’t be able to. My body tingles with need to the point where I feel like I can never get enough of him.

“Hawke?” Axe’s muted voice breaks through our libidinous haze.

Hawkin swears out a curse, his forehead against mine. He removes his hand from where it was wrapped in my hair and forces my chin up as we separate.

“In the head,” he yells out, irritated at being interrupted.

“You okay? Vince is asking. They need you back at the meet and greet.”

“Yeah man, just zipping up. Tell him to hold his fucking horses, I’ll be right out.”

Hawke drops his head forward, eyes squeezed shut, hand still holding my hair hostage as we stand here in this suspended state of time. It’s not long but just enough for reason to start seeping through the haze of what I’m doing.

And the women from earlier flash in my mind, but then Hawkin does something so unexpected and yet seemingly intimate that the images dissipate. He takes the tip of his nose and runs it from my collar bone up the column of my throat and to beneath my ear.

“You’re coming to the after party. I don’t care how, I don’t care why, but I need more of you than this. You want me and then you don’t want me and frankly I don’t give a flying fuck anymore what your reasons are, because I want you. And I guarantee that once I have you, there will be no more back-and-forth because I’ll leave your body so fucking high on me there will be no other option but to want more of me again.”

I draw in a ragged breath as I try to take in his words that are erotic and possessive and downright assuming all at once but holy hell am I a trembling ball of need. And yet I say nothing.

He gently pulls my hair so that when he leans back he’s looking straight into my eyes with unfettered intensity and unbridled desire expressed in his stormy irises. “It’s taking everything I have right now not to tell Axe to fuck off, to tell them to wait so I can lift up this sexy skirt of yours, pull aside the panties you wore for him to discover, and finger-fuck you breathless. Claim you first. Show you just a taste of what we could be like together.” He leans forward and tugs on my bottom lip gently with his teeth until they scrape along it and it falls free. “But I want to take my time with you Quinlan, edge you out so that by the time you come the only sound on your lips is my name, the only thought in your head is me, and the only thing you want filling you is this.” He presses his dick that’s hard and straining against the denim of his jeans into my hip.

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