Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense) (85 page)

"You really think your dad killed her," I whisper.

"I don't think it. I know it, and I want to hurt him for it. The only thing he could use against me is you."

"He still can. We're never going to be safe here. I don't think you should stay."

I blurt it out without thinking. Hawk tenses.

"No. I'm not leaving. I will stand my ground. This is my home. You’re my…."

He trails off.

His what? Best friend? Lover?

"What am I?"

"What do you want to be?"

"Stop evading the question."

"You stop evading the question."

I snort. "Stop being childish."

"Stop being childish."

"I mean it."

"I mean it."

"Damn it, Hawk!"

"Damn it, Hawk!"

Enough, I try to wriggle loose but he's too damn strong, his arms are like steel bands. He pulls me back against him and worse, his fingers dance over my ribs and an explosive laugh bursts out of my throat.

"S-stop, it, somebody will hear-" My words are lost in a peal of laughter. I clap my hand over my mouth to keep quiet as he attacks my tickle spots with both hands, and I struggle and wriggle in his lap.

It has an interesting effect on him. We wrestled and had tickle fights when we were younger, but they seemed to taper off as we got older. I don't remember ever feeling, for example, his hard-on digging into my butt. I squeak and sit up and he pulls me back down by my arms and yes, there it is, big and hard and very thick. I look back at him and grind my hips in a slow circle, pressing on him through his jeans. Slipping his arms around me, he jerks me back and cups my breasts through my shirt and squeezes gently, and I duck to the side and turn.

He kisses me, hard.

I pop the button on my shorts and grab his wrist, and guide his hand into my panties, gasping as I feel his fingers on my lower lips. A shudder passes hot through my body as his other hand slips up under my shirt and wraps around me. His skin feels cool at first and then quickly grows hot on mine. The roughness of his calloused palms feels strangely exciting, and I gasp when his finger slips along my slit, wetting itself in my arousal. I lean back against him and my body jerks as his finger slowly enters me, the pressure gradually building until it slides into my body, my quivering walls gripping him.

"You want to feel that around your cock?" I whisper.

"Alex?"

"You heard me," I purr.

I free my hands and push my shorts and underwear down as he works his hand under me and loosens his jeans, pulls the fly down and takes himself out. I sit up and pitch forward, reach between my legs, and guide him against me. It's a
lot
bigger than a finger. I grunt a little as I lean back and shudder at the overwhelming sensation of his cockhead spreading my lips open as he slides inside me. I flinch when a powerful mortar goes off overhead, showering multicolored sparks through the air, and stop. Hawk grabs my hips and pulls, dragging me down onto him. I go rigid and lean back against him as I take him all the way inside me, clenching my teeth. He's
huge
, but I was ready. Finally I settle against him and he locks his arms around my waist and holds me still. I sit on his throbbing rod, my breathing starting to even out after the shuddering effort of taking him inside me.

I slip my shorts down past my knees, then slide them off and drop them in the leaves, and spread my legs and lean back. I start to rock back and forth, and Hawk moans softly in my ear, a tight rigid spasm passing through his body. He slides his hand down my stomach and between my legs and his fingers spread around his cock, his fingertips tracing over my lips and the back up again as his rod shifts inside me. His finger slides slowly over my clit and a full body jerk ripples through me, my legs snapping up from the shock.

"I think she likes that," he whispers in my ear.

He does it again, slowly, gently, testing me. Then he starts to move his finger in a circle and I mimic the motion with my hips. It feels so fucking good, driving spirals of pleasure out of my stomach, coiling my muscles, sending frigid shooters down my legs. The more he does it, the more excited I get, until my stomach hurts from the muscles clenching, and my legs snap together, trapping his hand against me as I ride his cock.

"Let go," I purr, "Let go of me."

I sit up and rise, draw him out of me. His cock, hard as a rock and wet with my juices, slaps against his bare stomach and I stare at it, amazed that I took
that
inside me just now. Standing, I shakily turn around and move to sit in his lap, spreading his jeans open and pushing them down a little before I guide him inside me again, facing him this time. As I sink into his lap and his cock sinks into my body, more fireworks go off over our head as
Stars and Stripes Forever
thunders from the loudspeakers.
 

I find myself grinning and moving my hips in time with the music. Hawk rises up under me, meeting the motions of my body with his own. He pulls me against him and holds me still and begins thrusting from below. I can feel his stomach tightening against my body as his cock draws back and fills me again, draws back and fills me a gain, growing harder with every thrust.

It's so
hot
.

I can't take much more. Some instinct drives me to bury my face in his neck as a shockwave of pleasure crushes through my body, slides under my skin like I'm going to burst. Before I even realize it, the meat of his shoulder is between my teeth.

I… I bit him.

I think he likes it. He fucks me harder, his arm around my waist, his hand on my ass, pushing me down to meet his thrusts. I can't control my movements anymore. My legs shake like leaves, my feet lifting up from the ground as my muscles tighten. It feels like every muscle in my body is torquing at once behind us the thunder of the fireworks ripples through the air and the blasts light the world like high noon. I thrash in his grip as a climax tears through my body, bursts through my skin and unfolds out into the hot air around me. I lock around him, quivering as he pumps harder, then drives inside me and holds me against him, quivering from the tension.

He says my name in an almost quiet voice, “
Alex
,” then explodes inside me, hot and wet.

It only makes me thrash harder. I bury my face against him and rake his back with my nails as another peak ripples through my body in a quivering wave, and I feel myself clenching him. He kisses me all over, showering heat on my shoulders, my throat, meeting my lips with his own. Raw instinct drives me to buck in his lap as his tongue rides over mine, squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of his quivering body. I nip the side of his neck, a quick squeeze of the skin between my teeth, and he yelps and
smack
, cracks his open palm against my ass. I jerk, shocked.

I… I liked that.

Behind us, the fireworks fade as the music drops out. One final rocket sails skyward and goes off with a whining pop, and the fireworks are over.

For now.

I want to laugh. I want to lay with him for hours. I want to keep him inside me.

If I don't get home we're both fucked.

I climb off him, find my shorts, and pull them on, hoping I can get home and get changed before I have to explain the big wet spot on the front of my clothes or the mud on my knees. Hawk gets up behind me and rests his hands on my hips. My legs can barely hold me up.

"I have to go," I blurt out, "Right now."

"Alex-"

"Hawk, please. I have to beat everybody back to the house. I have to go."

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," I whimper. "I don't know. Just don't leave me. Please."

"I won't."

He zips himself up, and touches my arms.

"We can meet somewhere, I…I don't know, we'll figure something out. I have to go."

No time, no time. I pull away from him and break into a run, going full tilt, the most awkward run I've ever had to run. I go faster, panting, as I clear the gates and turn to cut through a vacant lot and a backyard, taking the most direct route back to the house. I throw myself into it, until I'm running so fast that if I stop I'll just flop right down on the ground, until my lungs burn and my calves are fire and I can see the house. I run at the front door, think better of it, sling around the house and up the back steps, through the back door and up to the second floor.

No Lance, thank God. He must have been at the park. I duck into my room, strip, grab a towel, and run bare-assed into the bathroom, turn on the water full blast and sluice the mud from my legs, hold the spray between them and shudder as I cleanse myself.

Terror rips through my body. Tom will know. He'll
know
. He'll smell it on me.

He'll know I've been bad and they'll come and take me back to the hospital
no, no, no, no, no, no…

It doesn't stop until I've sat under the spray for five minutes, clutching myself. I fucked up. I should have grabbed May, gone with Hawk, and we should be a hundred miles from Paradise Falls by now. Why do I stay?

I know why.

Slowly, I rise, finish rinsing myself off, and wrap the towel around my body. I leave a trail of wet footprints in the hallway and lock myself in my room, tuck the chair under it for good measure.

As I towel myself off, I pace. Inside, a storm rages as I try to process everything at once. I can't even tell if I'm mad at him anymore. Fuck, it wasn't his fault. He thought he was protecting me, the big lummox. I…

Oh my God, I just lost my virginity. That was my first time. In the woods.

Kind of appropriate for us, now that I think about it.

He liked it when I bit him.

What am I going to do? Tom will never let us be happy together. He'll hurt me and if somehow I escape his reach, he'll hurt my sister, my little sister who used to sleep in my bed wearing footie pajamas and leave Fruit Loops under my pillow after eating the goddamn things all night. I don't even care what happens to me, I can't let that motherfucker strap May to a table, feel her up, and hold a knife against her thigh and threaten to kill her. That's not going to happen to me. The son of a bitch killed Hawk's mom, too.

That crushes me. I sink to the bed and then to the floor and weep softly, trying to contain myself. I want Hawk right now. I want him to hold me and make it go away. I loved his mom. Her name was Laura, and she was so beautiful and kind and sweet. The weight of memory rounds my shoulders as I remember all the times she was subtly pushing us together, trying to make it happen, helping us click. Tom hated me, but she adored me. The way my dad liked Hawk before he died in the bridge collapse.

Why couldn't
they
be the ones to live, and get married? Then we'd all be happy.

I look up at that, and laugh to myself. Oh yeah, Alex. That's normal. I can't help but laugh, even though I'm crying.

If anybody saw me now they really would think I'm crazy.

Eventually I manage to get up and find a ratty pair of lounge pants and an old t-shirt to wear.

I used to have a lot of Hawk's clothes. I doubt he had any of mine, but somehow I ended up with a dozen of his shirts. I don't have any of those anymore. Just thinking about that makes me sad. God, I used to sleep in a shirt he gave me, one of his. Why couldn't I see what we had together? Was it the familiarity that blinded us to what we were, or something else? Were we just too young?

The image of him staring at me in the wave pool floods back into my mind. The way he looked at me. He looked at me like that today, tonight, he always does now. Like I stepped out of a dream, like we just met and he's known me forever. He looks at me like he's never seen me before.

Curled up on the bed, I hope May's feeble excuses worked and I'll be able to sleep through the night without being dragged off to be sedated with Thorazine.

When light reaches through the blinds and cuts into my sleep, I blink a few times, yawn, and decide I've made it.

Then I rise, pull on a robe, and shiver my way to the kitchen. It's always freezing in the house, year round. I hear a knock at the door and stop, freezing in the middle of pouring a glass of orange juice. I set the carton down and carry the glass with me to the front door, but I've been beaten to it. I sink back into the kitchen as Tom glares at me, then swings the door open.

Hawk stands on the porch with his duffel bag slung on his shoulder.

"Hi, dad."

Alexis

Now

May is in the hallway, wrapped up in her fluffy bathrobe. I grab her before she can say a word, touch my finger to my lips for silence and duck into her room. Her bedroom is directly above the office, and if we open the heater vent and stay very, very quiet, we can hear what people are saying below.

Tom’s voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“Not anymore.”

“Aww, dad, I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“This isn’t a game, boy. We had an arrangement.”

Hawk snorts. “I’ve altered the deal. Pray I do not alter it any further.”

“What?”

“Nevermind. Here’s the new deal, dad. I’m moving in. You didn’t give my room away, did you?”

“Actually, I did.”

I sigh, softly. May glances at me, annoyed.

They gave Lance Hawk’s room after he moved out, at the end of the hall, the biggest of the bedrooms on the second floor.

“Oh well, I’m sure there’s some room somewhere unless you and Helen got busy and nobody told me.”

Silence, but I can somehow hear Tom’s annoyance.

“I made myself very clear,” he says. “You need to go back where you came from.”

“Oh, how awful,” Hawk says in a mocking sing-song. “You’d throw out your unemployed veteran son? I’m sure all the vets and their families in Paradise Falls would love to hear that.”

I can practically hear Tom’s teeth grinding.

“What’s your angle here, boy?”

“I don’t have one. I wanted to come home.”

“You can stay, for now, but if you lay one finger on your stepsister, you’re out. You’re to have no contact with her, at all.”

“So which room do I get?”

“Take one of the ones upstairs. I don’t care. This is temporary. You’ll be moving out soon.”