Authors: Dahlia West
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction
Tildy woke and could almost convince herself that the previous night had been just another bad dream in a long, recent line of them. Unfortunately, the engagement ring snagged on the comforter and reminded her of the truth. She lay still a moment, listening to Hawk breathing. He was soundly asleep next to her. His last words, or lack of them really, still haunted her. It was done. She’d gotten what she wanted. It was time to fulfill her promise. If she stayed until he woke, she’d only break it again. She’d beg and humiliate herself and in the end nothing would change. She quietly gathered her clothes and slipped out of the bedroom.
She raced home and
sighed in relief that her parents were safely ensconced in the kitchen for breakfast. She snuck upstairs for a quick shower and a change in clothes. At noon she shut herself in her office and pulled Tate’s ring off her finger. She tossed it into a drawer, just for a few moments, and tried to remember how to breathe. Her eyes drifted to the phone, but she merely closed them and sighed as she realized that she no longer had anyone to call.
At two o’clock, her office door swung open, and Tildy looked up at her mother standing in the doorway. “Aren’t you ready?” Deirdre demanded. Tildy nodded, slid her purse out of the lower desk drawer, and discretely slid the ring back on her finger. She rounded the desk, straightened her blouse, and followed her mother out of the building.
Deirdre Fletcher normally did not approve of playing hooky, but she was singularly obsessed with making the engagement and wedding an opportunity to remind Rapid City who its First Family was. Tildy parked her car next to her mother’s at a dress shop recommended by Vera Simmons. Tildy’s mother often pretended to shop locally and then ordered anything she really needed online from Neiman’s or Bergdorf’s. She’d make a good show of looking at wedding dresses in town, then she’d drag Tildy to Chicago, most likely, and purchase one there.
Thankfully though, Tildy only needed a new dress for the engagement party at the moment. She could save the Battle of the Wedding Gown for later.
Live to die another day
, she told herself as the bell overhead tinkled, announcing their entrance.
As her mother stood talking
to the salesclerk, Tildy studied the racks of formal and semi-formal wear. She knew she shouldn’t bother to look. She was only here to try on whatever her mother picked out for her. Tildy couldn’t actually remember a single item of clothing she’d ever chosen for herself. She thought about Skylar pointing out, once again, how plain she was. Well, maybe Tildy could kill two birds with one stone.
She reached out and grabbed a green strapless dress. She’d never worn anything like it in her life, because she always had to hide her arms. She checked the size and whirled past her mother and clerk. Deirdre paused and watched her for a moment, then excused herself from the other woman and followed Tildy to the dressing room.
“Matilda,” her mother said through the door as Tildy shut and locked it. It rattled on its hinges as Deirdre tried to open it. Tildy smirked to herself and started to unbutton her blouse. “Matilda,” her mother repeated. “I haven’t had a chance to look at anything yet.” Her mother’s tone was pleasant, because the saleslady was within earshot, but Tildy knew Deirdre had to be growing more irritated by the second.
She ignored her mother’s protests and stepped into the dress. She managed to zip it up herself after a few comical contortions. She took a deep bre
ath as she reached for the lock, since the actual changing room had no mirror. She flipped the lock and stepped out into the smaller, private vestibule that housed a three-way mirror.
Deirdre scowled at her. “I hardly think that’s-”
Tildy brushed past her, forcing her to step out of the way. She marched to the mirror and stood in front of it.
“Oh my,” said the saleslady. Tildy caught her gaze in the mirror. She wasn’t certain if the woman was referring to Tildy’s bruises or the dress itself. Her elbow bespoke of some kind of mishap and the woman shook her head in commiseration.
“Accident,” Tildy said, explaining everything away with cool detachment.
“I see, dear. Terrible.”
“It’ll be gone by the party,” Tildy insisted.
“Matilda,” Deirdre replied, “Go take that off and let me-”
“I want this one.” Tildy’s voice was strong and determined and gave no hint of her pounding heart and sweaty palms. She’d never once defied her mother, not even over something as simple as a dress.
“Matilda,” Deirdre tried again. “We won’t be able to find a wrap that-”
Tildy whirled, startling the saleslady. She fixed her gaze on her mother, the woman whose approval had always been simultaneously paramount yet unattainable, the woman who’d ruled over her with an iron fist. Sometimes, though rarely, corrections weren’t just pinches. A few times in Tildy’s life the correction
had been
the iron fist.
“We won’t need a wrap,” she announced to her mother and the saleswoman.
Deirdre’s mouth opened and then closed again. She regarded Tildy with equal parts surprise and fury, but she remained silent. Tildy nodded, as much to herself as to the woman who’d tormented her for her entire life. She smiled at the saleswoman exactly the way her mother had taught her. “I’ll take this one.”
The saleswoman, oblivious to how angry Tildy’s mother was, returned the smile. “Absolutely. You look beautiful.”
Tildy knew it was a sales pitch. She wasn’t beautiful, not even close, but she was damn tired of being plain. In fact, she was damn tired of a lot of things. She glided past her seething mother and back into the changing stall. As she hung the dress back on the hanger, she realized it was the same color as the blouse she’d been wearing the first time she’d met Hawk.
Hawk was drying his hair with a towel when he heard the knock on his front door. Adjusting the towel wrapped around his waist, he headed out of the bedroom. When he opened the door, Tildy was standing on his front porch, wide brown eyes looking up at him.
He sighed inwardly as his cock immediately stiffened. He wished his body didn’t react to her like that all the time, but he was a guy, and Tildy was a pretty girl. What could he do? He briefly considered sending her away, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to. The feel of her underneath him, her soft hair running through his fingers, and the noises she made when he sheathed himself inside her were all too much to resist. He pushed open the door all the way and let her step inside.
“You lost?” he asked her.
“I was in the neighborhood.”
He smirked at her. “That right?”
She nodded. “Picking up a dress. For the engagement party.”
His expression immediately darkened. “You sound really excited,” he snapped sarcastically.
A fleeting look of pain crossed her face, and he was immediately sorry he’d said anything. He pushed the front door closed and walked to her. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her gently. It
didn’t take long for Tildy to get excited about
that
. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and grabbed at his arms, trying to pull him closer. Hawk knew he wasn’t even going to try to resist her.
He reached down and yanked off his towel, freeing his dick, which was growing harder by the second. He took hold of Tildy by the waist and lifted her up. She immediately wrapped her legs around him, her dress sliding up her thighs and her panties sliding down Hawk’s raging hard on. He took her to the bedroom and kicked the door shut.
Once in the room, his fingers quickly found the zipper of her dress and within moments it lay in a pool on the floor. As he laid her on the bed, his forearm grazed the rock on her left hand. It didn’t hurt. It barely felt like anything, but Hawk growled anyway, as though the damn thing had drawn blood. He took hold of her hand and yanked the offending rock off. Tildy froze. He slammed it down on the nightstand next to them, catching her gaze with his own.
“Don’t wear that fucking thing when you’re with me,” he ordered. “Understood?”
Tildy blinked and nodded.
“I’m serious, Tildy. I don’t want to see it again.”
She took a shuddering breath, but he didn’t think she was actually afraid of him. “You won’t,” she promised.
Angry now, he yanked open the nightstand drawer and snatched out a condom. “Get your panties off,” he ordered.
Tildy gasped a little but did as he asked, tossing a handful of silk and lace onto the floor as Hawk rolled on the condom. Now she did look a little scared, and Hawk mentally cursed himself. He was fucking this all up. She’d never actually seen his dick before. She was eyeing it now like it was a baseball bat, and he was going to bludgeon her with it.
He wanted to take her, hard and fast, come quickly, and drain himself of his irritation in the process, but it was only her second time.
He hoped
.
He growled again but tightened his jaw. No way was he going to ask her if that useless bastard had been inside her; he couldn’t take that. He gripped her arms and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top him. “Come here,” he said in a voice that still sounded rough and pissed off, even to his own ears.
Fuck it
, he thought. He should just stop talking to her altogether. He positioned her over him and kissed her again, willing himself not to do or say anything else stupid. As angry as he was, he struggled to keep his kisses soft, just brushing her lips. There was nothing to be gained by scaring her. Tildy was compliant, too compliant, especially when it was Hawk giving the orders. She’d likely do anything he told her to do, even if it terrified her, and both of them would end up feeling like shit afterwards. She wanted comfort, and she wanted it from
him
. His own feelings didn’t matter.
Hawk gripped her hips and moved her back and forth along his shaft. Tildy whimpered.
“Shhh,” he whispered, raising his hips a little to increase the pressure. “Get wet for me, Angel. It’ll find its way in.”
She pushed on his shoulders to steady herself and began moving of her own accord. Her warm, wet folds enveloped him as she humped his cock, pushing her clit against the head occasionally. She wasn’t sure exactly what to do, Hawk thought, but she knew what felt good. He slipped a hand between them and thumbed her clit, making her grind harder against him. He checked her with his other fingers and found her ready for him now.
He pulled her up along his body until the head of his cock grazed her. He held her tightly against him as she pushed herself back down again, this time not rubbing her slit down his length but instead parting for him. She gasped as he breached her entrance. Hawk slowly pulled her down while his hips surged up, sheathing himself.
Tildy sat perched on his lap, impaled but still moving her hips. Apparently she wasn’t feeling the pain she’d feared just moments ago. Her brown eyes peered down at him, and
, once again, they were full of pleasant amazement.
“I told you we fit together,” he said breathlessly. He pressed his hands to the mattress, pushing himself up until he was sitting. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. His lips found her ear. “Ride me, Angel. I want you to come.”
Tildy worked her pussy up and down his shaft. She made soft noises each time he slid all the way in. With her on his lap, the soft curves of her breasts were within easy reach. Hawk ducked his head and took one of her hardened nipples into his mouth. Tildy gasped, her hands clasping the back of his head, urging him on.
She was riding him hard now, with the wet sounds of their joining spurring him on as well. Tildy’s fingers twisted in his hair as a noise of frustration caught in her thro
at. He could tell she was close. The tips of her breasts flushed darkly, and she was panting--so close but unable to finish. Hawk dipped his head once more and bit one of her raspberry colored nipples gently.
A ragged sound of surprise, heavy with pleasure, tore from Tildy’s throat as he felt her pussy contract around his shaft. While she was still coming, he slipped an arm around her waist and turned
with her. They rolled, until she was flat on her back with Hawk’s hard cock still buried inside her. He grabbed her hips and held her steady as he pulled out and shoved back into her. He couldn’t tell if she was having another orgasm or was still riding the wave of the first one.
He covered her
body with his own and took his own pleasure. Just a few thrusts were all it took to fill the condom that separated them. As he throbbed inside her, he tucked his head between her neck and shoulder. She smelled good, a light scent of perfume clinging to her skin. She felt even better underneath him, his hard body pressed against her softer one.
He wasn’t ready to let her go, so he pulled out of her and moved to the side, keeping his arms around her.
Her breathing was as jagged as his but she managed to whisper, “Hawk.” He couldn’t tell what she meant by it, whether it was a plea or a prayer. He considered Tildy for a second and decided it was a prayer. He didn’t know what to say to that except offer up one of his own.
“Angel.”
Tildy laid on the bed for a moment listening to the sound of the shower. Hawk had rolled off her, the previous tenderness promptly forgotten, and left her alone in the room. She fought off tears as she sat up. It was hard to believe someone could be so kind one moment, so cold the next, and still be the same person. She quickly dressed and fled the house, not wanting to face him after he emerged from the bathroom.
At home, she begged off dinner with her parents, saying she was tired, and headed straight upstairs where she started the water for her own shower. It was only as she stripped down for the second time that she noticed her engagement ring was missing. Her heart thumped in her chest, as she remembered where she’d left it. She closed her eyes and put her face in her hands.
There was no way she could go back there now. The hurt was too raw and she knew she wouldn’t be able to take it. She locked her bathroom door and turned the water as hot as she could stand it. She knew from experience that no one would hear her cry.
As she dressed for bed and slid between the sheets, her hand reached for the medallion that wasn’t there anymore. Sometimes she woke up clutching that corner of the pillowcase with tears staining the fabric. She’d never gotten it back from Hawk and still didn’t really want it. What was the point? It wasn’t real; it had never been real. It and, by extension, Isa had never really protected her. Isa wasn’t even dead. She’d just walked away.
Tildy understood that it was her parents who’d sent Isa away, but that still didn’t explain why Tildy hadn’t heard from her former nanny and best friend. Isa was just another person she couldn’t count on, another person who didn’t really want her. It only hurt so much because Tildy had spent all these years praying and yearning for a woman who’d never cared as much for her in return. Wasn’t it like that with Hawk, too? She’d spent all this time fantasizing about him, wishing he’d sweep her away, and the truth was that Hawk’s feelings for her weren’t even close to the same intensity as hers for him. As Tildy drifted off to sleep, her hurt and humiliation began to morph into anger. By the time she woke up, she was practically on a rampage.
She sped down the stairs the next morning and out the front door, skipping breakfast altogether. She guided the Mercedes out of the driveway and gunned the engine all the way to the end of the block. She had lunch with Tate and her future in-laws this afternoon and there was no way in Hell she was showing up without that ring. Rather than turning left at the first stop light, she swung a hard right, away from downtown. She nosed into the turnaround of Burnout, not bothering to actually pull into a parking space.
Hawk was already there. She recognized his Harley off to the side of the building. She got out, slammed her door, and stalked toward the open garage bay. Hawk had seen her pull in and took a few steps forward to greet her, though he looked about as happy about it as she probably did.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Tildy would have none of it. “I want my ring back,” she snapped at him. Everyone else got very quiet. Tildy wasn’t sure, but they may have turned the radio down, as well. Hawk seemed surprised at her anger, as though he was the only one with a right to be irritated. So what if he was busy right now? If he had treated her a little better, she wouldn’t be here in the first place.
“I don’t have it with me,” he replied, but for some reason Tildy didn’t quite believe him.
“Bullshit,” she told him.
Hawk’s eyes widened a little before narrowing. Normally Tildy would be intimidated at his darkening gaze, but she’d had enough.
“That’s bullshit,” she repeated firmly. “I want it back. I need it back.”
Hawk snorted. “You
need
it back? How long did it take for you to even realize it was missing?”
Tildy’s mouth clamped shut and she ground her teeth together so hard it hurt. She was irritated with herself for not having noticed it when she left his bedroom. She was downright
pissed
that Hawk knew her well enough to guess that she’d gotten all the way home before realizing her mistake.
“Give it back,” she demanded.
Hawk stood before her, not moving. Tildy’s anger ignited into rage and she surged forward. She shoved him and had enough momentum behind her that he actually took a step back. Tildy felt smug in her minor victory and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I don’t have all day to stand here,” she snapped.
Hawk, either by virtue of not caring as much as she did, or because his friends were all standing around staring at them, reached into his pocket and retrieved the ring. Tildy ripped it from his offered hand and spun on one high heel. Without a word she stomped back to her car and slammed the door again as she slid behind the wheel. She cranked the engine and pulled away.
She only made it to the end of the block before she heard a thundering engine behind her. She glanced in her rearview mirror to see Hawk on his Harley right behind her. Ignoring him, she waited for the light to turn green. Tildy stomped the accelerator, allowing the 455 German horses to sail her across the intersection. Unfortunately, Hawk followed right behind.
Tildy grabbed the wheel and yanked it left into the turn lane. She spun the wheel and took a hard left just as the next light changed to red. Hawk ignored the light altogether.
“Fuck!” Tildy shouted to no one in particular and slammed her hands on the steering wheel. She tamped down on the accelerator again and was now out gunning anyone else on the street. It would be short-lived though, she realized, as the light at the end of the block was already yellow. A large panel truck passed her in the opposite lane, and, on a whim, Tildy yanked the wheel left again and hit the gas. She rocketed around the truck and into an alley. She slammed on the brakes, half-hoping Hawk would crash into her, but he didn’t.
Tildy threw the car into park and surged out of the car. She didn’t bother to shut the door.
“What the fuck?” she shouted.
Hawk simply regarded her coolly.
Tildy stalked closer and repeated her question.
“Maybe I wasn’t done talking to you.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you’re done with me,” Tildy snapped back.
“You don’t decide shit for me,” he replied. Tildy felt a little satisfaction that he was finally getting as angry as she was.
“Fine!
I’m
done with
you
!” Despite this claim, Tildy approached the bike and the infuriating man who drove it. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed a handful of his shirt. She had intended to throw a punch, not that she’d ever done anything like that before since, truthfully, she didn’t even know how.
Perhaps Hawk sensed that he was about to get slapped at the very least, because he yanked her forward by her arm, causing her to stumble on her heels. The rage Tildy felt reached its peak; blood roared in her ears. Hawk had hurt her, would always hurt her, just like everyone else. She wanted to hit him, wanted more than anything to make him hurt as badly as she did.
As usual though, Tildy did not get her wish.