Hawke

***This chapter was initially pulled from the book because of thoughts that it may be a tad too steamy, and take away from the character development. However, I held onto it and decided to release it as a bonus chapter. I set this scene after the chapter entitled ‘The Car’.***

I glare at my boyfriend with a fiery stare, attempting to burn a hole through the side of his head.

This was his stupid idea. His plan to bring all of us together and clear the awkwardness out of the air. The tension he feels isn’t simply a hatred between two individuals who have nothing in common and don’t get along. No, it’s not that at all.

It’s a raging sexual tension that burns like a wildfire between two people who do nothing but lust for each other. Knowing it’s wrong, knowing that sexual desire is forbidden, but constantly feeling the need to burn ourselves to nothing but ash and smouldering coal, nonetheless.

He’s passed out. Knocked out cold into a deep drunken sleep. One too many shots of Patron, clearly. But as I think about it, it all starts to make sense. This was Hawke’s plan all along.

The past few days have been rough for me. Hawke was staying away from Patrick and I again, popping in and out of the house at odd hours, making it almost impossible for us to connect on any level. It was such a confusing time, one I was on the verge of breaking free from. My heart was torn, but in reality, I simply missed time together.

But now, here we are, the near empty bottle sitting on the coffee table before us with the three shot glasses in front of each body, a reminder of the ‘get to know each other’ drinking game Hawke came up with.

Nothing about that game was innocent, like Patrick assumed. The questions started easy. We went around, each person taking a turn. You could answer the question given to you or take the shot if you wanted to remain silent. It seemed Patrick had lots he didn’t want to open up about. The tension between the two boys grew into something truly awkward as the silent shot-taking continued.

I answered most of mine, but when Hawke’s questions started turning oddly sexual, everything got quiet on my end. luckily Patrick was phasing in and out of consciousness, unable to pick up on the subtle cues Hawke was throwing at me. His eyes constantly trailing the length of my body, licking that lip ring while gazing at me.

I turn my glare from Patrick who’s resting back on the far end of the couch, mouth dropped open, completely gone to the world, to Hawke who’s conveniently settled himself next to me on the long part of the sectional.

My scowl does nothing to deter that cheeky grin he wears on his stupidly perfect face as he attempts to pull the blanket from the back of the couch over us. I toss the soft grey blanket off of my legs, throwing it back at him. I’m stubborn and he’s really pushing it if he thinks we can just cuddle in front of Patrick, conscious or not.

He chuckles at my willful attempts to move away before gripping my arm firmly, pulling me over towards him and directly onto his lap. I yelp at the force, attempting to pull my arm from his grasp. He’s just too strong and his hands are just too big. I squirm against his lap, trying to shake him off of me, not oblivious to the fact that he’s becoming hard beneath me. This is so inappropriate. My boyfriend is passed out at the other end of the couch.

“Let me go!” I whisper, turning back to face him.

His eyes narrow and a devilish grin grows, completely enjoying this situation he’s so conveniently created.

“No.’

He quickly turns me around again to face away from him, holding onto my thigh with a dominating control.

He’s making it harder and harder to deny the root cause of this issue. Our inherent desire that’s becoming more and more impossible to ignore.

“I told you to stop this,” I snap at him, looking towards my boyfriend and back at him again. His smirk is gone and a dark look crosses over his eyes. “This. Right here,” I say, pointing between us. “It’s wrong. We have to stop.”

“No,” he answers again, totally dismissing me.

He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me further into him, my flimsy shorts against his sweats, leaving only a thin film of material between our aching sexes, all too eager to connect again. I close my eyes tightly, swallowing in an attempt to calm my nerves, calm my mind, shit…calm anything in his presence.

Pulling the blanket up and over us again, he leans further back into the seat of the couch, dragging me with him. I shake my head at his relentless mission.

“You never answered my question,” he says, grabbing the remote next to him and directing it towards the TV, searching the channels for something.

I roll my eyes, knowing he can’t see my face, but needing to do it, anyway. “That was the whole point of your stupid drinking game. Don’t want to answer? Take a shot. Elementary shit, roomie.”

He grips into my flesh near my hip with the hand around my waist, disliking my mocking behavior, his thumb effortlessly slipping up and under my tank top, touching more of my skin.

I’ve found I like pissing him off. I’ve never acted like this with Patrick. I’d never talk back to him the way I do with Hawke. Pushing Patrick’s buttons gets me a lecture on Christian values. Pushing Hawke’s gets me fucked in the back seat of a car.

“You know I had to do this,” he growls in my ear, making his frustrations known. “I had to have you to myself. One way or another.”

He kills me when he says stuff like that. It makes me want to just wrap my arms around him and hold him to me. But life just isn’t that simple.

He finally finds what he was searching for. A scene pops on the screen before us as my eyes widen in disbelief. I turn my cheek to face him, throwing a questionable glance as he simply keeps his dark, hooded eyes on the screen.

A beautiful woman with curves for days, donning red lingerie, is perched on all fours in the middle of a hotel room bed. A man is at the edge of the bed, completely naked, stroking himself before her, while the other sits back on the couch, watching them with his hand in his pants.

Hawke put on porn after I refused to answer the question of whether or not I’d watched it. That asshole. He’s totally taunting me.

I couldn’t answer the lewd question with Patrick, eyeing me the way he was. Of course I’d watched porn before. I’m a curious being. But that was one can of worms I wasn’t willing to open during the drinking game, or ever for that matter. That stuff stays private with me. A quick swallow of a throat-burning substance was a welcomed alternative.

A gasp leaves me as I see the woman take the man into her mouth. Heat flashes through my body, trailing up to my cheeks where it’s obvious I’m blushing, even with only the dim light of the movie illuminating us.

I feel Hawke scoop my hair to the side of my neck, his warm, bare chest surrounding me, strong arms locking me against him, making my body come alive. I’m aware of every ridge of muscle that rubs against me, his delicious woodsy musk with hints of leather and cigarettes that does something wild to my senses. He brushes his lips against the skin under my ear and I’m totally aware of every touch that’s sending my heart pounding into the night.

“That guy masturbating on the couch,” Hawke whispers in his hoarse, deep tone as our eyes face the screen. “That’s her husband.”

I take notice of the rings they are both wearing. What the hell is this?

“Some guys like seeing their girl get fucked by a bigger cock.”

I swallow again, feeling totally parched in the desert that is Hawke’s raw sexuality. He squeezes me down against him, running my ass along the hardened ridge of his growing erection.

“Hawke,” I breathe. “Please. We can’t.”

But my pleas go unnoticed as his hands find my thighs beneath the blanket. They slowly trail upward before gripping the soft part of my inner thighs, pulling me backward until I’m above his cock, my ass resting on his lower abdomen. I turn to look at Patrick again. God, I’m going to hell for this.

“He’s not waking up,” he whispers to me, following my gaze. “No matter how loud you scream.”

As soon as he says the words, his fingers find my center. They run over my mound covered in the thin cotton material, slick and wet, as soon as they press against me.

I release a breathy moan as he groans in delight.

“Jesus, Cole…” he murmurs against the back of my neck.

My eyes find the screen again as I watch the man mount this woman, her husband’s hand working faster as his pants slide down further, exposing his crude act.

It’s all so erotic, so lewd, so insatiably intoxicating. I’m watching another man take his woman while Hawke is taking me in front of Patrick. He pulls my loose shorts to the side and slides a finger along my slit.

“Hawke,” I protest again before he fills me with his finger.

My head falls back against his chest, which is rising and falling quicker than before. His other hand slides up and under my camisole, cupping my breast in his large palm. The man on the screen sucks on the woman’s nipples, nipping them with his teeth at the same time Hawke pinches mine between his fingers.

My body is screaming for him again, like it always does. Needing him in the deepest parts of me. Craving our connection like a bad habit that won’t let up.

It’s all so much. Too much. I’m in sensory overload watching the film while he plays with me, paranoid that Patrick will wake up and see us fondling each other’s private parts and dry humping to porn.

Just roommate shit, right?

Hawke eases another finger into me, his thumb circling my clit as the sound of my arousal coats his fingers. The feeling of his erection pressing beneath my ass as he thrusts with each insertion of his fingers tells me he’s imagining sliding into my warm, wet center.

“Fuck, Cole,” he groans in frustration. “You love watching porn with me, don’t you, baby?”

Hearing the words fall off his lips is literally enough to get me on the brink of orgasm. I’m already letting breathy moans escape my lips, giving him all the signs he needs to tell him to keep going.

“No,” he says suddenly, removing his fingers and pushing me up off him some.

My mind goes into panic mode. I asked him to stop, but now he’s the one stopping it?

“I need inside you,” he demands.

My brow arches in confusion. Surely he can’t be thinking of doing this right now. Not here.

I feel him adjust his hips behind me, pulling his sweats down just enough to expose himself. I place a palm back on his bare chest, stopping him.

“Hawke,” I warn again. “This isn’t—”

He brings me back against his chest, pulling the blanket up and over us, denying my useless protests while covering whatever he has planned from the eyesight of Patrick. Pulling my shorts to the side, stretching them out, his long arms reach around between my thighs to line himself with my entrance. Before I can say another word, he holds me by my hips, guiding me down onto him.

I feel the thick, swollen head sink in through my walls, the rest of his massive length stretching me the further down I slide, my sex rippling with a pained satisfaction.

We both gasp at the feeling before I feel him rest his head against the back of my neck. He’s trying to hold it together. Attempting to breathe through it. I know he badly wants to grunt and slam into me again. I know how hard it is for him to just sit still when all these electrical impulses are wildly firing away at the sensation of him raw inside me.

“Oh, Hawke,” I say breathlessly. “We shouldn’t be doing this here.”

I’m grasping at straws for a little clarity but with the way my brain is becoming fuzzy, the way the room is now a little hazy, I know I’m losing any control I wish I had.

“I love it when you spout off useless shit with my dick deep in you,” he murmurs against my neck.

I moan loudly as he spreads my thighs with his, gaining access to the deepest part of me, making my lower stomach tighten with pleasure as the feeling of being filled takes over. He quickly wraps his hand over my mouth as a precaution.

“Bite down if you need to,” he instructs, kissing the side of my head. “Now open your eyes, beautiful. Watch the screen with me.”

I didn’t even realize I’d closed them tightly at the sensations. I open my eyes just as there’s a close-up of the man screwing this woman from behind, slamming relentlessly into her, causing her ass to bounce with the thrusts, while her husband continues watching.

The man is wild. Insatiably wild. It’s as if he’d been eyeing his buddy’s wife for a long time and finally got the chance to let out all that pent up sexual frustration. He’s grunting now, gripping at her flesh, seemingly close. It’s insanely sexy.

Hawke has one hand across my mouth, the other pushing down on my clit as he slides up into me, his head resting against my shoulder as both of our eyes are on the movie.

Patrick shifts from his position on the couch and we both freeze instantly.

My eyes are closed, as if the simple act somehow shields me from his wrath, but he doesn’t wake up. He just rolls slightly, one of his arms dropping off of the side of the couch, dragging his knuckles against the floor as he continues snoring.

My heart rate peaks, and now my body is on the anxiety come-down. We sit still, connected, until both of our breaths slowly regulate and we can finish what we’ve started.

I can feel just how wet I am from this experience. Whether it’s the porn, the fact that this is so taboo, or just Hawke’s touch alone, I’m insanely turned on. I squeeze his dick inside me as we stay paused in place and he nearly buckles.

“Fuck, Cole.” He groans into my neck. “I’m gonna come if you tighten yourself around me like that again.”

So naturally, I do it again.

“Ah, shit,” he hisses, before reaching up and sticking two fingers in my mouth.

His motions turn aggressive as he drives up into my wetness again and again.

“I told you.” Thrust. “Don’t.” Thrust. “Do that.” Thrust.

I moan around his fingers, sucking on them with my tongue, feeling myself spasm around the wide base of him each time he pushes into me to the hilt as we move together.

We’re both on fire. The risk of being caught doing something so indecent is our fuel. Panting out of control into his hand, Hawke cups my breast, rolling his thumb over my pebbled nipple, nuzzling his head into my neck again, holding out for me.

He doesn’t need to hold out long. Dragging that hand down to my sex, he wets his fingers, coating them with my arousal before making quick circles against my clit.

It’s too much. That, the moans and grunts from the people on TV, the way his tongue has now found my ear, licking the length of it. And just the fact that my boyfriend is right here, passed out drunk, so Hawke could fuck me the way he so desperately needed to.

With my body aching for its sweet release, I let go, falling into it, feeling myself begin to spasm around him. He feels it too, because his breaths become quick pants against my neck.

“I’m coming,” I just barely whisper as my eyes seal shut, the intense wave of pleasure wracking through my body from my neck, down my spine, to the base of my stomach, to my toes.

Weak muffled cries escape me as he holds me tighter against his chest than before. He shudders beneath my wilted form, pressing so deeply into me as he loses himself with a deep growl into my shoulder right after me.

My breaths calm as his hands softly trace my skin. My eyes dart to Patrick immediately, seeing him still sleeping less than three yards away from us. I slowly slide myself off of Hawke, his still engorged and heavy dick slapping against his taut abdomen as he drips out of me. I hate how much I love that feeling. I also hate how much I love seeing his cock, glistening and wet from me.

I stand before him, fixing my shorts, turning to face him with a little glare. He looks totally satisfied as his lazy, hooded sex eyes find mine before his lip curls into a little smirk.

“Never again.” I mouth to him as he adjusts his sweats back over himself.

He cocks his brow, throwing the blanket off of him, turning the movie off before standing and slowly stalking towards me. His tall frame grows on me as he runs a hand through his black, hanging locks. I can’t help but to admire the way his muscles flex as he prowls towards me, watching his dark, lust-filled eyes trace my figure. I walk inside the bathroom as he follows, my back hitting the wall while he shuts the door behind us.

He smirks before grabbing the back of my neck and bringing me to his lips. He kisses me passionately, like he’d been dying to do it the entire time we were connected but couldn’t. His tongue softly massages mine, sending chills down my arms. He gently pulls my bottom lip into his mouth, releasing it as his forehead rests against mine. His eyes find mine, and it’s so much more than just lust. Deep emotion resides between us in this simple stare, but he swallows it down as his lips curl into a little smirk.

“Again, you say?”