Hawk's Property: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 1) (15 page)

Sitting on her
porch with a cup of coffee in her hand, Cara savored the peacefulness that Saturday mornings brought. As she did every morning, she thought of Hawk. She wondered if he had screwed one of the women who hung out at biker clubs the night before. She wasn’t too sure what went on during the parties, but she had heard stories, and that made her worry.

Hawk was a woman magnet, and every time she was with him, she noticed women checking out his broad chest and firm ass. At his last court hearing, the court clerk and the bailiff both kept staring at his ass every time he bent over, and even in his orange jumpsuit, he looked hot. Watching the two ladies rake their eyes over his fine body, he’d flashed them a smile, dimples and all. He was such a flirt. Of course, the women melted, giggling and smiling at him. It was damn annoying.

Cara was sure the women who hung out at the club were more than willing to please Hawk any time he wanted it.
He probably screwed several of them last night
. The reality was the guy was horny, and all he ever wanted to do was kiss her or talk about fucking her. Whenever she tried to have a serious talk with him, his mind was always on her pussy, and he was so demanding. Most guys who acted like that were full of bullshit, but she knew that wasn’t the case with him.

She hoped he hadn’t slept with anyone, but she knew she was being ridiculous. After all, they weren’t dating, or anything. Still, she didn’t want to think of him with other women. She heard bikers were notorious for screwing around and not thinking twice about it, and she bet that Hawk had a past littered with satisfied women. On the flipside, Cara had only had two lovers: an awkward, quick bang in the backseat of her high school boyfriend’s Mustang after her graduation party, and Trevor, the guy she thought was her soulmate.

Hawk had probably broken many hearts over the years, and even though the women who hung out at the clubs knew the score, they must fall for some of the guys. Although, she couldn’t imagine any woman melting his heart since Hawk was so closed off. She perceived that he was interested in her, but she wasn’t stupid enough to think she would ever matter to him beyond a good lay.

Her phone rang, and she hoped it was Hawk calling to apologize for his atrocious behavior the other night in the restaurant’s parking lot. She looked down at the screen and saw it was Luke. She thought about letting it ring through, but figured that would be rude.

“Hi, Cara, how’s it going?” Luke’s cheerful voice grated her nerves, and she wasn’t sure why.

“Fine. Just hanging on the porch, enjoying this beautiful weather.”

“Do you have plans for Labor Day?”

“Going to my parents’. The family always has a big cookout. You know, tons of relatives and that sort of thing.”

“Sounds fun. I’m not doing anything. I usually go water rafting, but this year I’m not up for it.”

Grasping that Luke was hinting for an invite, she changed the subject. “My dad told me you handled the negotiations on the Cooper Mine Investments’ case real well. Good for you.” Cara imagined Luke’s chest puffing out.

“Thanks, I worked real hard on it. I’m glad your dad noticed my efforts. What are you doing tonight?”

“I have plans, remember? I told you, I’m going out with Sherrie.”

“I don’t know what you see in her. You’re both so different.”

“You don’t even know her, and she’s my best friend. Don’t even think of talking trash about her, Luke.”

He sighed. “Are you going to ask me to go with you to the Boys Hope charity event in a couple of Saturdays?”

“Uh—yeah, okay. You want to go?”

“I’d love to. Your dad bought a table, right?”

Cara rolled her eyes; Luke’s ass-kissing was too transparent. “Uh-huh.”

“Great, we’ll have a good time.”

“Yeah, right. I gotta go now. Let’s connect next week, okay?”

“You don’t want to see me on Labor Day?” he whined.

“Won’t work. It’s a family thing, you know. We’ll talk soon. Bye.”

Cara hung up the phone, wishing she would have let his call go to voicemail. Hawk was right; Luke
was
a pansy-ass. Cara laughed. She should’ve been furious at Hawk for the way he acted in the restaurant’s parking lot, but she wasn’t, and his possessiveness and confidence turned her on. It had taken all her strength not to fling her arms around his neck and kiss him that night.
Why can’t I get him out of my mind? It’s driving me crazy. And why in the hell doesn’t he call me?

Standing up to get another cup of coffee, Cara’s spotted the manila envelope on the table. Realizing that the pre-raid photographs were in there, she opened it up. A wide smile broke over her face as she scanned the pictures. She screamed out, “Yes!” while picking up her phone to call Asher.

When he answered, she blurted out, “There isn’t an ammo box on the table in the pre-raid photographs! I’ve
got
this.”

“Way to go, Cara. That’s awesome news. Badass Biker will be happy, if that word can ever be used to describe him. Does he ever get rid of his scowl?”

Cara chuckled. “Yeah, he does, and he
will
be pleased. I think I’ll go over to the clubhouse tonight after dinner and tell him.”

“Why don’t you call him?”

“He deserves to get this news in person. I’m filing a motion to dismiss on Tuesday and requesting a hearing. This is great.”

“Do you think it’s wise to go alone to a biker clubhouse on a Saturday night? I think you should pass and go tomorrow. Sunday is probably tamer.”

“I’m not worried. I know Hawk and a few of the guys. I’ll just be there for a few minutes. It’ll be cool.”

“I’m not so sure. You want me to come with you?”

“Don’t be silly. You’re going to Aspen tonight. Have a good time and don’t worry about me.”

“Okay, be careful.”

“Sure. Have fun, and I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

Realizing she had a ton of things to do before she met Sherrie for dinner, Cara made herself go into the house. She couldn’t wait to see Hawk, and this was the perfect excuse for her to seek him out. Disappointed that he hadn’t contacted her, she could still tell him the good news about the recent discovery of what the pre-raid photos contained and see him without losing any pride. This worked out in her favor all the way around. She was going to see Hawk, and a delicious shudder heated her body.

“W
here the hell
is this damn place?” Cara muttered. She must have gone up and down Highway 295 several times, and she had yet to see the clubhouse. It didn’t help that it was pitch-black out, either. The clubhouse was twenty-five miles out of town and she figured it would be inconspicuous, but this was ridiculous. She could call Hawk, but she wanted to surprise him, which meant finding this on her own.

After the fifth time driving south on the highway, she spotted five motorcycles ahead of her and had a hunch they were going to the Insurgents’ clubhouse. She followed them, and sure enough, they turned left down a small dirt road she never would’ve found. After following them for about two miles, Cara’s brows knit and a quiver rippled in her stomach. Asher might have been right about the foolishness of her idea.

Just as she was ready to turn around, a three-story, brick building set back among the trees with a tall, chain-link fence surrounding it came into view. The Harleys she followed turned into the enormous parking lot, and she veered her sports car into the area, parking to the far-left side. As she switched off her ignition, her doubts intensified.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Looking over at the gate, she saw a group of men wearing leather jackets with the Insurgents MC patch on the back, and with bottom rockers stating “Nebraska,” “Wyoming,” and “Colorado.” The men were sitting on their Harleys, drinking beers and laughing as they talked.

After taking in a few deep breaths, Cara opened the car door and walked toward the gate. Noticing her, the bikers yelled, “Hey, sweetness, come over here and give us some of that tasty pussy.” Their hoots and whistles were deafening, but Cara ignored them, opened the gate, and headed toward the clubhouse door, hoping to see someone familiar. As she walked through the opening, a large hand grabbed her waist and pulled her back outside. Rancid breath burned her nostrils as one of the bikers leaned in close and sneered, “Where the fuck are ya goin’, whore? Ya got brothers out here who need your pussy.”

“What a hot piece of ass,” said one of the bikers who wore the bottom rocker “Wyoming.”

Cara swiveled away from the big guy, her blood pumping and her heart beating wildly as the horror stories about gang rapes with outlaw bikers flooded her mind.
This was very stupid, Cara.
Thoughts of kneeing the big goon right in his swollen balls came to her, but she decided that wouldn’t be a smart thing to do considering the men outnumbered her twenty to one.

“I’m not part of the club. I’m a lawyer representing one of your brothers. I’ve come to give him some papers,” she explained.

“Fuck, we got ourselves a lawyer whore. Shit, we’re movin’ up, brothers,” a young, handsome biker said.

“We need you to help us, too, sweet butt,” someone yelled.

Realizing she was fair game like all the other women at the clubhouse, Cara tried to run back to her car, but the group started up their bikes. Twenty engines rumbled like exploding bombs. The Harleys’ headlights blinded her and she squinted, placing her hand in front of her face to block out the beams. The men formed a tight circle with their bikes around her. Looking like a deer caught in the headlights, Cara blinked rapidly, a cold sweat covering her body. Images of what-could-be flashed through her mind as her adrenaline spiked and her leg muscles tightened, readying to run. Moving her head sideways, Cara looked for a way to break free, but the bikers closed in tighter, hollering and hooting, pushing her back to the center. She had no way out.

*     *     *

As he drove
up the road leading to the clubhouse, Hawk spotted the circle of bikes and a petrified woman dodging them. He hated shit like that. Fucking willing women was fine, but tormenting a woman like this was bullshit, and he had to stop it before it got out of hand. He wasn’t used to this shit because his club ran clean: no rapes, no beating women, no torturing. The shit unfolding in front of him enraged him, and he stepped on the gas.

As he approached the circle, his posture stiffened and he did a double-take.
What the fuck?
Cara?
He saw her dressed in her tight-as-hell jeans and skimpy lace top, trying to break through, only to have a bike inch closer to her, her outstretched arms trying to keep them away. Terror filled her eyes, and as he watched her bottom lip tremble, his nostrils flared, his ears pounded, and he saw red.

Putting on his high beams, he headed straight for the circle. When they saw him coming, the bikers stopped, their engines humming. Noticing the VP patch he wore, they made way for him to ride into the ring. Blinded by the bright lights, Cara looked down at the ground as Hawk stopped his bike in front of her, glaring at each of the men. Putting her hand down, she glanced frantically around her until her eyes landed on Hawk. With clenched jaw, he stared at her.

“Get on,” he ordered, his thumb pointing behind him. Jumping on the bike, she put her arms around his waist as he peeled off, leaving a cloud of dust.

As Hawk drove fast through the canyon, the cold wind bit at their cheeks while Cara’s arms wrapped tighter around his waist, her legs hugging the bike and part of his thighs. Her wind-whipped hair stung against his face, feeling like hundreds of pin pricks. Leaning her head on his shoulder lessened her hair’s assault, but her breasts pressed against his back. As Hawk looked over his shoulder at her, their eyes locked. Eventually, he averted his gaze back to the road.

Having Cara on the back of his bike felt good, and her arms squeezing his waist and her tits crushing against him made his cock jump. Her vanilla-spiced perfume wafted around him. Her tight grip told him she was scared, but her body melding into his was fucking hot. He chuckled when his bike hit a bump and her hand slipped down past his waist, jerking away when it touched his raging hard-on. Having Cara plastered to him while riding was a new experience, considering she was the first woman he’d ever had on his bike. And he liked the feel of her; he could ride like this for hours.

Veering off the main road, he pulled into a small alcove hidden among the trees. The river’s rush echoed in the distance and an owl hooted, angry at having been disturbed. Cutting the engine, Hawk swung off his seat, watching Cara with a bemused smile as she fell back against the bike on wobbly legs. In one stride, Hawk was next to her, pulling her toward him and pressing his lips on hers. He fisted her soft hair and tugged her head back, allowing him deeper access into her mouth. She moaned and snaked her arms around him as she kissed him back with urgency.

As she nibbled on his lower lip, Cara used her fingernail to play with his ear. Groaning, Hawk embraced her, rubbing against her as she shivered and clasped her legs together. Her desire-filled eyes urged Hawk to tug her closer, and as he did so, her hardened nipples brushed against his chest. When her tongue pulled in and out of his mouth while she ground her pussy against one of his legs, his eyes widened, his breath caught, and a flush of lust throbbed in his body. He’d bet everything he had that she was dripping, and for several seconds, he held his leg stiff while she moved up and down, gasping.