swallowed to moisten her dry throat and took a look at her watch. “Hawk, it’s nearly one o’clock in the morning.”
“Yeah, I know…and I’m starving.”
For you.
He didn’t need to say it. Kate heard it loud and clear. Not allowing herself to hesitate, consider, she murmured, “I am, too, Hawk.” Starving and scared.
“So?” His voice was quiet, calm, without a hint of pressure.
Kate wet her lips, swallowed again and said, “How soon can you get here?”
“Twenty-five minutes or so, maybe less if the traffic has thinned,” he responded at once, sexual electricity sizzling in his tone.
“I’ll be counting the minutes.”
“I’m on my way.” He hung up.
Determined to push Jeff’s not-so-veiled threats from her mind, Kate replaced the receiver and disconnected the phone cord from the wall jack. Digging her cell phone out of her purse, she turned that off, too, before rising to go into her bedroom.
Hawk had said around twenty-five minutes or so. That was just enough time for her to have a quick shower and slip into something a little more comfortable. Simply thinking about that made her smile as she undressed and headed for the bathroom. Tossing off her clothes, she stepped into the shower, careful not to get her hair wet.
Kate was excited but nervous, as well. She hadn’t been with a man in some time, and in all truth, she had never thought the act of sex was the end all and be all it was made out to be.
What if she disappointed Hawk? On the other hand, what if he disappointed her? An image of him swam into her mind. Somehow she doubted he could disappoint any woman.
Why was she taking this course now, with this particular man? She had had offers before, many times. Why Hawk? Oh, sure, he was very attractive, masculine and made her laugh.
He made her feel safe and secure.
Was that enough reason to go to bed with a man? They were practically strangers…and yet. Kate shook the thoughts away as she stepped out of the shower and stuffed the wet towel and her clothing into the wicker laundry basket in the closet.
Why was she analyzing her reasons? She was thirty-one years old; she didn’t need reasons to go to bed with a man. What she needed was the man, this man, simply because he turned her on something fierce.
She opened a dresser drawer and reached for a nightshirt. No. Why bother? she thought, slipping into her silk, wide-sleeved, knee-length robe. If you’re going to do it, do it right, she told herself, staring into the mirror to smooth her hair.
Makeup? Kate shook her head. No. No artifice. This was the way she looked. It was take it or leave it, Mr. Hawk McKenna.
The intercom buzzed. Kate froze, frowning at her reflection. Maybe she should quickly apply a bit of makeup, if only blush.
No. No backing out, she thought, backing away from the dresser and walking to her bedroom doorway. Drawing a deep breath, she rushed to the intercom to buzz Hawk through the lobby door.
The next instant she nearly panicked. Good grief! What if it wasn’t Hawk? What if it was Jeff, coming to back his threats up physically?
The doorbell rang. Standing rigid, Kate said softly, “Hawk?”
His answer came back as softly. “Who were you expecting? The big bad wolf?”
Close, she thought. Dragging a smile to her lips, she unlocked the door and opened it for him, one brow arched. “Aren’t you? The big bad wolf, I mean.” Swinging the door open wide, she moved back.
Stepping inside, he shut the door, locked it, tossed aside the windbreaker he carried and stood there, leaning back against the door frame. His heated gaze took note of every inch of her body. “I wish I were,” he murmured, closing the short distance between them. “You certainly look good enough to eat.”
“Hmm…uh…would you like something to drink?” Her throat was dry; her voice low, raspy.
His mouth took hers, ending her question. His kiss was every bit as soft, gentle and undemanding as before…for a moment. With a soft growl deep in his throat, Hawk parted her lips with his tongue, delving, tasting every part of her mouth before plunging deep inside.
Afraid her legs would fail her, Kate grasped him at the waist, hanging on for dear life. His kiss was hot, devastating. Drowning in sensations, she slid her hands up his chest and curled her arms around his neck.
Without releasing her mouth, Hawk slowly rose to his full height, taking her with him. Her feet dangling a foot or so off the floor, he carried her into the bedroom, closing the door with a backward thrust of one foot.
Still he held her lips and her mind in thrall as he lowered one hand to the base of her spine, drawing her hips in line with his own.
Hawk’s purpose was apparent and successful. Kate felt the hard fullness of him. Lost in the fiery world of sensuality, needy and wanting, she held her hips tightly to him.
“I know,” he said at her sudden movement, ending the kiss to allow them both to breathe, pressing into her body.
Kate drew a deep breath before trying to speak. “What do you think we should do about it?” she said, surprising herself with her brazen response to him. Never before had she felt like this, and certainly never with…oh, the hell with him. He was a nothing compared to Hawk. No, he was a nothing, period.
“I suppose I could think of a few things,” he drawled, his lips a hair’s breadth from hers. “We could start with losing our clothes.” His tongue tickled the corner of her mouth.
She hadn’t known a touch so simple could cause such a burning reaction. Kate couldn’t wait to find out what else she hadn’t known. Eager to learn, she cupped his head with her hands, and whispering, “More, please,” she roughly drew his mouth to hers.
Hawk was quick to comply. This time his kiss wasn’t as long, but it was just as powerful. Breathing deeply, harshly, he murmured, “I’m going to burst out of these jeans if I don’t get them off soon.”
Having no idea that the smile was seductive, Kate lowered her arms and stepped back, looking directly at the spot he indicated.
“This I want to see,” she murmured.
Shoes, socks and pants were removed and kicked aside before he answered.
“Well, I didn’t mean literally.” His gaze devoured her as he dug into a pocket of the discarded jeans, withdrew a foil packet and laid it on the nightstand.
Kate’s breaths were coming out of her body in tiny puffs. Her throat felt parched. Curious, she shamefully lowered her gaze to his boxer shorts, her breathing halting altogether at the sight and size of the bulge there. She tried to swallow, was unable and had to try again. She never even saw him pull off his golf shirt.
“Not fair,” he said, his own voice sounding desert dry. “I’m doing all the undressing.”
Raising
