Hawke

“It’s not true,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief.

“It’s true. Look it up. It’s everywhere,” he states with a shrug.

There’s no possible way this empathetic, caring, emotional individual would have done something like this in cold blood. I just don’t believe it. I can’t imagine that it’s even close to being possible.

“I don’t believe it. You couldn’t…there’s no way,” I reply breathlessly. “It can’t be that simple. There’s more to this story.”

“Does it matter? On paper, this is who I am now. I can’t change it, Cole. I’m a fucking murderer.” he admits as he goes and sits on the edge of the chaise lounge again, dropping his head in his hands.

I stare aimlessly, taking this all in while shaking my head in disbelief. He’s been waiting for me to find out, assuming this would be the end-all, the reason I leave this fling of ours and never look back. I’m pure to him. Too pure to handle the heaviness of what this entails.

“Hawke, you aren’t what a document says you are—”

“Cole, it doesn’t matter anymore! You can try to say it’s not who I am, but you’re wrong! There’s no going back! Someone is dead because of it!” he yells, startling me.

So much of what he’s been through has been internalized. How did this happen? Who did he kill and why? Who has he been able to talk to about this? Who could he confide in? How did he handle going to prison at such a young age by himself? Locked up with bad people, really bad people. Not the kind of people who help nurture you into the man you want to be.

I take a deep breath while he gets up, pacing the room, attempting to cool himself off. My heart breaks for this man before me. I don’t want to push him, especially while he’s messed up on alcohol and God knows what else.

“I’m too fucked up for this shit right now.” He shakes his head, sitting back down on the edge of the seat, his head dropping back down into his hands.

I walk closer, but when he speaks, it stops me in place.

“It’s too much for you, Cole. You don’t have to tell me. I know that it is.”

The finality in the way he speaks breaks me. He has no idea what I’m willing to do to keep him in my life. The thought of him not being part of it is devastating. I’ve never felt the way I feel when I’m with him before, and I know in my heart I never will again. His past doesn’t define him, and none of this is enough to push me away.

I silently drop before him, my knees hitting the plush rug beneath the chair.

“You should go,” he says softly. “Patrick will wonder where you are.”

Kneeling before him, I gently grab his wrists, pulling them down away from his face, making him hold his head up and look at me questionably. His hair falls into his bloodshot eyes, the red lines making the greens and blues pop out in remarkable contrast.

Even like this, he’s so beautiful to me. Beautifully broken, but fascinatingly striking nonetheless.

My eyes focus on his, staring through him. He tips his head slightly to the side as it hangs, the pain emanating from his eyes never more present. He’s ready for me to leave, ready for the moment he’s been getting numb for. He waits with the saddest, most definitive look about him, knowing this is it. This is the part where I leave.

I crawl up between his legs, holding his face between my hands, running my thumbs over the cheekbones that have never seemed so pronounced until this moment.

“Fuck Patrick,” I reply.

His eyebrows twitch as he stares in disbelief.

“As much as maybe you hoped this would scare me away, it hasn’t and it won’t. I know who you are. I know your heart. You’re an amazing man, someone who’s seen the worst in this world and still has the ability to fight your way out. And it’s not too much for me, not at all. You’re everything, Cam, and there isn’t one person on this earth that could convince me otherwise.”

He swallows, his head still in my hands, the roll of his throat and the increase in his breathing telling me so much. His mouth drops open as his eyes wince together tightly, before his forehead falls against mine again.

We breathe the same air between us, the seconds that tick by on the clock, now teasing us with their quickness.

“Let’s get you out of here,” I whisper, pulling back a bit, my eyes searching his with a hopeful expression.

His chest is rising and falling in nothing but pure relief from the response he never expected. He nods softly, his eyes suddenly appearing hopeful.

I tilt my head up, brushing my lips against his as he nods again, waiting for me to kiss him. I press my lips to his softly at first, then harder as I close my eyes, pressing myself into him.

“Where are we going to go?” he asks softly, pulling back from the kiss.

“Anywhere,” I whisper against his lip ring.

He eyes my face, rubbing his thumb along my cheek. “Okay, let’s go.”

We leave the house with faces of confusion following us. Driving away from the cabin, Hawke instructs me to go somewhere he knows.

He leans back into the passenger seat, slouching lower into the chair as one hand hangs onto the side door, the other reaching back to the headrest peculiarly.

“Are you alright?” I eye him, watching as he adjusts his hips again.

He groans. “Yeah, just starting to really feel this shit.”

His head drops back as a blissful grin forms. He’s so attractive, even when this shouldn’t be an appealing time. Watching him enjoy the feelings of the drugs inside him actually makes me curious to try.

“What did you take before I got there?” I ask, suddenly concerned.

“Molly,” he says, rolling his head over to look at me.

Ecstasy. Jesus.

He shows me this old dirt road, a pathway that takes us to this small turnaround that must’ve been a lookout point in someone’s lifetime. There’s a bit of a clearing amongst the ragged brush, where you can see for miles between the trees by the moonlight alone.

“Cole, I need to touch you,” he demands as I put the car in park.

He’s rubbing his hands up and down his jeans methodically, and running his tongue over his lips.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t—”

“I need to feel you everywhere. Fuck, I feel so good.”

“Hawke, wait,” I say, taking off my seatbelt and turning to face him.

He looks at me with those dilated eyes, his full lips parted. My curiosity is completely piqued.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asks, suddenly overly concerned.

My grin turns into a curious smile.

“You wanna try?” he asks, reading me like always, cocking a brow with a look of disbelief.

I shrug a little and continue smiling.

“No. No, hell no. I won’t be the one to bring you into this.”

“Hawke, shut up. I’m a grown woman who’s becoming myself. Let me be me.” I smirk confidently.

He stares at me for a while, unsure of what to do.

“I have another one on me. But you can’t take the whole thing. Gotta start small.”

I bite my bottom lip. “Okay.”

He doesn’t move, just eyes me curiously, clearly telling himself this is a bad idea.

“I said okay! I want to try, and I know I’ll be safe with you.”

His eyes hold an appreciation for the words spoken, but it’s the truth. I know he wouldn’t let me try anything that would hurt me. If anything, him being here while I experiment is the safest place to be. I know he’ll protect me while I allow myself to let go for once.

“It shouldn’t take long to kick in,” he says, finding the pill and breaking it in half for me. “Open your mouth.”

I stick out my tongue for him. He stares at me intently, then leans forward across the seat and licks it soft and slow with his instead.

I moan as the lick turns into a kiss.

“I’m sorry. Fuck.” He tightens his jaw, adjusting his jeans.

He gives me the pill as we listen to music together for a while, waiting for my high to hit. Our hands connect on the console as Hawke continuously runs our palms together, dragging his fingers down the length of my arm and back.

“You’re so soft. I just love your skin against mine.”

My heart beats faster as I begin to feel the pill take effect. I close my eyes and begin breathing through my mouth. I can feel his eyes on me now.

“Come here,” he says, holding his hand and backing the seat as far back as it can go, making room for me in his lap.

I climb over the console with his help, sitting on his lap, my back against his chest. I start to feel panicked at the rate of my heart until he begins soothing me.

“It’s okay, don’t fight it. Let the feeling take over. Sink into it.”

I mimic his breathing, the feeling of his chest expanding and contracting behind me, assisting in that. His hands slowly wrap around me, one running down my thigh, the other snaking its way up between my breasts, resting on the side of my neck where his thumb rubs in slow circles.

His mouth is next to my ear, breathing soft, warm breaths against me. His pillowy lips wrap around my earlobe, lightly sucking on it, making me release a breathy moan.

“Oh God, that feels so good,” I say, angling my neck to him.

He drags his teeth along my earlobe, then licks up the side of my neck with his tongue, leaving wet, open-mouth kisses along the length of it. The sensations are becoming like small bursts of fireworks exploding within me. Every lick, every touch, every moan reverberating through me feels explosive.

“Jesus, Cole, I want more. I need more.” He sighs, pressing his erection into my ass. “It’s so good.”

His hands find the button of my pants.

“Yes, Cam,” I breathe, as he opens them to make room for his hand.

Slipping his fingers beneath my underwear, he finds my sweet center, running his middle finger along my slit. My hips lift, meeting his every stroke, aching to feel full. He plunges his fingers into me while holding me tightly to him with his hand firmly wrapped around my neck. My mouth drops open in pleasure and I moan while resting my head back against his chest.

“So soft,” he whispers, pulling me to him while pressing his hardened cock firmly between my ass. “So fucking soft.”

I fully give in to the sensations, losing all track of time, all inhibitions, everything. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else doing anything else with anyone. I’m right where I need to be and couldn’t care less about the repercussions. Every caress of his hand feels like tiny orgasms shooting through me again and again, the warmth spreading across me, pulling me into utter bliss.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his fingers inside me, thumb softly circling my clit. “You feel okay?”

It’s amazing he’s still checking on me while clearly under the influence of this as well, but he’s just so cautious with me and I love that.

I gently pull his hand free from my pants, sliding them down and off my legs before turning around to face him, my thighs resting on both sides of his as I straddle his lap. I place my hands on his shoulders as his hands find my upper thighs. He’s looking up at me, his dark eyes filling with desire once he catches a glimpse of my dilated pupils.

“I feel amazing,” I declare, running my hands through his hair, loving the soft sensation against my fingertips. “You feel amazing.”

I’m energized, empowered, filled with butterflies in the pit of my stomach. There’s an overall sense of euphoria spilling down each of my limbs, down into my fingers, down into my toes. I stare down at Hawke, feeling so connected to him in ways that are totally unknown to me, like the Universe has ultimately tied us together by every fiber of our beings.

He just stares at me in awe, constantly running his hands up and down my exposed legs. I have the urge to rub my lips on him, so I do. I run my mouth up his neck as he looks at the ceiling, exposing his throat to me. Licking the length of his Adam’s apple, I trail my tongue over to his ear where I suck on his earlobe like he did to me. He thrusts his hips up, screwing his eyes closed tightly while groaning loudly, the sound sending electrical impulses shooting through me.

“Oh fuck…”

I sit up higher on his lap, finding his face and looking down upon him, ready to devour him. He opens his eyes, his brows raising, awaiting my next move.

“You just keep surprising me.” He stares up at me, his mouth dropping open slightly as I roll my hips to meet his.

I smile devilishly at him, enjoying the flames of our fires surrounding us.

“You’re the purest, dirtiest little thing.” He grins, his eyes narrowing in on me. “A saint with the lips of a sinner. A woman who owns her demons.”

“Let me own you,” I whisper, my lips inches from his.

I stick my tongue out for him, waiting. He quickly licks my tongue, then savagely attacks my mouth with his own before pulling away and finding my eyes again.

“Trust me, baby, you do.”