Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“Mmm,” I said, licking my lips. “Why does it taste so good?”
Hawk smiled, pleased. “I asked them to put a shot of caramel in it. Good, huh?”
“Good? I could practically orgasm over this.” This time he raised his eyebrows in amusement. “I’ll buy a bottle and have you lick it off my cock so we both benefit.”
I raised my own brows in contemplation. “I won’t say no to that.”
Hawk pulled out onto the street our office building was located. “You’re a naughty girl, Britta. Making me turn up to work with a hard cock.”
The car turned down into the darkened basement parking. “Well...” I started, placing my coffee in the cup holder to free my hands, “... since I inflicted this on you, I may as well offer my assistance.”
HAWK ROTATED HIS SHOULDERS, shaking off the orgasm he’d just had while I sucked him off in the basement. “I’m going to bring you a caramel coffee every day.”
I stifled my laugh since we were in the elevator with four others. As we reached our floor and exited the lift, Hawk pinched my bum as the receptionist approached awkwardly. Her eyes focused on anything else but us when she arrived with a folded piece of paper. It wasn’t for me, so I kept walking down to my office, overhearing hearing part of her message.
“Excuse me... Mr. Carnage,” she began nervously. “There was a woman here earlier looking for you. She left a note...”
I closed the door but not before catching a glimpse of Hawk’s stony face. Whoever it was mustn’t have come with good news.
My cell vibrated in my handbag, and I managed to answer on the last ring.
“You made him leave?” Slate rushed out.
“Good morning to you, too. And I had a work emergency,” I told my little white lie.
“Work emergency, aka Hawk Carnage.”
“Perhaps. It was urgent.”
“I can see where your priorities lie. So... did you like him?”
“No.”
“Ohh... brutal this morning.”
“He was a nice man, but he’s not my type.”
“So, what is your type then?”
Hawk Carnage.
“Umm... when I have it figured out, I’ll let you know.”
“Right,” he said, sighing. “I’ll hold off on my matchmaker skills until you’ve got your shit together.”
“I’m more than happy with that idea.”
“You coming to Ricky’s still, or is work going to trump family?”
“Don’t be a dick,” I chided while laughing. I knew he was just doing it to stir the pot. “I said I’ll be there and I will.”
When we hung up, I set about my busy day organizing the next photo shoot and fielding calls from the Renshaw’s regarding an urgent meeting.
It wasn’t until I made my way to the coffee machine that I realized, Hawk hadn’t been in his office all day. He’d left no sooner than we’d arrived.
A message on my cell told me he also wouldn’t be returning.
Chapter 18
Hawk
I wanted to cancel.
I wanted to be a no-show.
Shit just got real, really quick, and when everything in my world was controlled by my own two hands and my own doing, having something like this jump out of left field and crash tackle me... well, let’s just say I was pretty fucking shook up.
I wanted to believe there was a way around it, but I hadn’t yet found a viable solution, and no matter how I dealt with it, someone was going to get hurt.
I didn’t even bother knocking. Like everyone else in the family, Ricky’s house had an open-door policy. I could hear the jovial laughter and animated conversations filtering down the hall. The smell of a barbecue wafted past me, and even though I hadn’t eaten all day, my gut churned anxiously.
“Hey, bro,” Ricky greeted as he passed from the kitchen to the living room carrying a bucket of beers. “Just in time,” he said, handing me a bottle.
“Thanks, man,” I replied, albeit distracted. I needed to know if she was here yet.
“Hey, Hawk,” Harry approached, wearing a weirdly serious expression. “Can I talk to you for—”
I put my hand on his shoulder to brush by him, my eyes still searching the house and faces of randomly placed groups of people.
“It won’t take...” I didn’t hear the rest as I pushed through the door and checked outside. Nothing.
I felt somewhat relieved she hadn’t shown yet. Perhaps she wouldn’t. Britta often hit the highway on my organized events because she was an introvert and cherished her quiet time.
“Grab a seat, everyone,” Ricky called from the barbecue. “And grab a plate while you’re at it.”
Placing a tray of assorted meats on the table amidst salad and bread rolls, everyone took a seat while still continuing their conversations.
“You all right, bro?” Ricky asked, handing me a plate. A placed it down on the table in front of me. “You look like shit,” he continued.
I felt like it, too. Worse if Britta were to show.