Beyond Ecstasy (Beyond #8) (12 page)

With Nessa, it could have meant anything from
tell me how romantic it all was
to
describe the dick, if you will, using no fewer than four adjectives
. “There's not much to tell,” she demurred, her cheeks heating. “Last fight night, Hawk asked me if I'd consider a collar, and—”

“Wait, wait.” Nessa raised both eyebrows. “Last fight night, like when you went to climb him for the first time?”

Lex's stare wasn't sheepish now. It was sharp, assessing, and even though she wished she didn't, Jeni knew what she was thinking. She was wondering if Hawk had finally given Jeni what she wanted—but with the collar as a condition.

“I didn't,” she said, as much in response to Lex's unspoken question as Nessa's voiced one. “We didn't, I mean. He asked me to go to Six with him, and some things happened. Some things...changed.”

“Are you happy?” Jyoti asked softly.

It was all so new that she'd barely had time to consider it. But now the shock of the situation, the
surprise
, had begun to fade, taken over by a sense of something very much like wonder. None of them knew how much time they had, but what
she
had, she could spend with Hawk—getting to know him, all the things beneath what he would share, what he even realized was there. And her answer came readily to her lips.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I'm happy.”

“Oh man, look at her face.” Nessa sighed again. “His dick must be solid fucking gold.”

Scarlet elbowed her in the side.

“What! I'm jealous.” But she leaned over the table to squeeze Jeni's hand. “I'm glad you got him. We need happy right now. All the happy we can get.”

“Yes, we do.” Lex stopped working and looked around the table. “Ford and Mia's reports out of Seven aren't good. Things are breaking down, and people are fleeing—mostly to Eight. Gideon sent some of his Riders in to try and restore order, but I think the losses will be considerable.”

A hush fell over the room. There were so many ways people could die in the sectors—lack of access to food, clean water, security, basic medical care—and the issues were compounded considerably when you were talking about refugees. Eden's military police force didn't even have to set foot outside the walls for its Council to cause enough chaos to kill people.

Six's jaw tightened. “People coming in off the farms in Seven won't know shit about survival close to the city. They'll be easy prey.”

Just like Hawk's family. The thought of Bethany and Luna trying to navigate the dangerous sector streets made Jeni's stomach clench. “There must be something we can do.”

“There is,” Lex replied evenly. “We can win this fucking war.”

Six tapped her nails against the table, her gaze fixed on empty air. “Maybe we can do more. Jyoti, you still need help clearing the roads in Two, right?”

“We need help clearing
everything
.”

“We're the same over in Three. And hell, it doesn't take much skill to haul rocks. I don't know how much we can pay them…”

“I can feed them,” Jyoti replied. “And you can find them someplace to live.”

“Probably.” Six glanced at Lex. “It's a start, right?”

Lex smiled slowly, her eyes bright. “I think it's perfect.”

Jyoti nodded. “It is. We just have to figure out how to get them over here.”

“Ha.” Nessa waved a hand. “Leave that to Mia. You tell her what you want, she makes it happen. Sector Eight doesn't know what hit it.”

Rachel opened another box of wrapped bandages and started stacking them in front of her. “Nessa and I were talking about the herb garden, and I think we have a decent idea of where and how to convert part of the distillery for processing.”

“Yeah, it'll be great.” Nessa raised her eyebrows at Jeni. “Are you going to take over organizing that part? Dallas says you can keep it all straight in your head.”

She'd assumed she'd be gathering the information, then passing on the actual project to someone else. “I don't know. I guess that's up to Dallas.”

Nessa snorted. “Do you
want
to?”

The possibility seized her and, for a second, Jeni couldn't breathe. The idea of something that was hers, built from the ground up and nurtured rather than handed off, would fulfill every dream she'd barely dared to have. “Yeah, I do.”

“So…” Nessa tilted her head toward Lex.

The moment hovered in the scant space between confusion and awkwardness, and Jeni couldn't blame Nessa. For as long as Jeni had known her, Lex had handled O'Kane business as much as Dallas. But this was different.
Jeni
was different.

Things always were when relationships like theirs ended. Some people could turn it on and off, the dominance they brought to the bedroom. Hell, some never took it out of the bedroom in the first place, so it was easy to let it go. Others, like Dallas, figured they owned everyone on some level, so it didn't matter.

Lex might not ever be able to issue another command to Jeni, no matter how far removed from sex the situation was. It wasn't about lingering feelings, but the associations. For some people, control was inextricably entwined with how they expressed it, so simple words that used to come easily to Lex might be lost forever.

Hawk would be the same way.

Jeni touched the medallion at the hollow of her throat. No matter how or why their relationship ended, on terrible or even the very best of terms, there would be no going back. A part of Hawk would always see her with this collar. As
his
.

Before the awkwardness could twist and grow, Lex grinned. “Don't underestimate Dallas, Nessa. You of all people should know that he's probably got the whole thing set up for Jeni already. He just hasn't gotten around to letting her know yet.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him.” Nessa rolled her eyes and went back to filling the small bottles. “But that's good. It'll be nice to have you there with us. We have fun, don't we, Rae?”

“Sure.” Rachel chuckled. “It's extra fun when Ace and Cruz show up to remind me not to lift anything heavy.”

Scarlet shook her head. “Poor boys are losing their minds.”

Six threw up her hands. “Hey, I keep telling them pregnancy is normal and natural and to leave you the hell alone, but Cruz won't take advice from anyone who doesn't want to wrap you up in blankets and lock you somewhere safe.”

“He listened to Hawk when he said ginger might help my morning sickness.” Rachel peeked over at Jeni. “Maybe more than his dick is pure gold.”

This time, the laughter didn't make her cheeks flame. Jeni pasted on her most innocent look, shrugged, and said, “His mouth is pretty magical, too.”

And she wouldn't elaborate for the rest of the afternoon—no matter how much Nessa begged.

Hawk had tired muscles, an empty stomach, and dripping-wet hair when someone knocked gently on his door.

The hair was easy to fix. He rubbed a towel roughly over his head as he walked to the door, unable to stop the anticipation stealing through him. By the time he reached for the doorknob he didn't give a shit about his aching back or nagging hunger.

Jeni was on the other side of that door. Weeks of planning ended here, in this moment, where months' worth of guilty fantasies had started.

Jeni, in his room. Jeni, in his bed.

Jeni, his.

He hauled the door open, and anticipation melted into slow, lazy satisfaction as she looked him up and down and swallowed hard, her fingers tightening on the basket in her hands.

After a suspended moment long enough to stretch into delicious tension, she held up the basket. “You missed dinner.”

“I did.” He took a step back and waved her in. “Dallas had us crawling through the tunnels all day. I needed a shower.”

“Mmm.” She brushed past him. “And you still look good wet. It's not fair.”

Few things in life had ever sounded as good as the soft
click
of the door closing. It was just the two of them now—no teasing friends, no nosy family. He turned and watched her size up his room, suddenly conscious of how stark it must look. Plain, utilitarian furniture crowded one side, while a gun rack and punching bag took up the other.

Not exactly the cozy, luxurious love nest she was probably used to.

She set the basket on the table and waved a hand to indicate the room. “It's bigger than mine.”

That was the sole benefit to the new third-floor rooms. The downsides were ugly cement walls, bare lightbulbs, and cramped bathrooms tacked on when they'd hastily started expanding. For the first time, Hawk wished he'd held out for one of the nicer rooms instead of passing it off to newer arrivals. “Yeah. I've been meaning to fix it up a little, but…”

“You've been busy.” Her brow furrowed. “Hawk, I don't care what your room looks like. I'm a little shallow, but not
that
bad.”

“I don't think you're shallow.” He crossed the room and brushed one knuckle over the medallion at her throat. “I just want you to feel comfortable here.”

She slipped her hand into his. “Then stop looking at me like you think I might leave.”

Her fingers were delicate and soft, cool against his skin. He tugged them up and kissed them. “If you left, I'd find a way to lure you back.”

Her pulse thumped a little faster. “Dinner.”

The tiny hitch in her breath had him ready to say
fuck dinner
and hoist her onto the table, but the basket was big enough to hold food for both of them, which probably meant she hadn't eaten, either. So he pressed a final kiss to her palm and pulled out a chair. “Have a seat.”

Jeni did so, then smothered a laugh when the first thing he retrieved from the basket was a cluster of candles tied up with a red ribbon. “Someone in the kitchen is either very practical or very
impractical
. And a hopeless romantic.”

The single sad light hanging from his ceiling already left most of the room in shadow. And since the power required to keep the Broken Circle and the stills running tended to monopolize the generators more nights than not, candles were plenty practical. But after he passed Jeni his lighter and she lit the first few, he adjusted his assessment.

Solar-powered lanterns were practical. Candlelight was magic.

“Maybe we should turn the light off anyway,” he murmured, watching her skin take on a golden sheen from the flickering light. “Since the breaker usually pops after dinner.”

“Good thinking.” She rose, reached for the switch along the far wall—which was usually damn inconvenient but perfect right about now—and flipped it off. “Be straight with me. Tell me what's really churning behind those eyes of yours.”

That was the only way it could be now. He'd learned enough from watching the O'Kanes to know that as unassailable fact—any fantasy could come true, but only if you were willing to say it out loud.

He edged his chair back from the table and held out a hand. “Come here.”

Jeni slid onto his lap, her face mere inches from his, shadowed by candlelight. “Talk to me,” she whispered.

Hawk settled his hands on the gentle curves of her hips and let out a soft breath. “It's still hard sometimes. These are urges I've fought against my whole damn life. Things I thought were fucked up and wrong, proof that I'm just as twisted as my old man was. I didn't even have words for this stuff before I came here, because you don't talk about this shit on the farms. Hell, I don't know if
anyone
talks about this shit.”

“I do,” she offered quietly.

“O'Kanes do,” he replied just as softly. And, because it was the truth, he closed his eyes. “That first night, up on the bluff… You said
no
. And all I could think about was turning you over my knee and…”

His voice roughened as he remembered the only time he'd seen Lex spank Jeni at a party—right before Jasper warned him to stop
watching
so closely. He could still remember her moans, her squirms, the way her skin had turned so delightfully, hypnotically red.

Her fingers brushed his cheekbone. “And?”

He slid his hands lower, until he could cup her ass. They were just words, words she
wanted
to hear, but they had to fight their way past a lifetime of inhibitions and came out as a growl. “I wanted to spank you until you were so turned on you begged me to get you off.”

“Then we need a safe word.” Her fingertips trailed down the side of his neck. “A way for me to say
no
or
stop
so you'll understand I mean it, and it's not just part of the fun.”

The idea of
fun
including the word
no
evoked its own uncomfortable tangle of guilt and fascination—especially when he imagined the pleasure he could take in watching her pant and writhe, in listening to her pleas for mercy. Mercy he could grant...or withhold.

Twisted, but maybe not wrong. Not if they did it like this, where he could be sure he was giving her exactly what she wanted. “What's the word?”

She paused, licked her lips. “Strawberry.”

“Strawberry,” he echoed. He tightened his fingers, savored the softness of her flesh under his grip. Fabric still separated them, but it wouldn't soon. Knowing he was so close gave him the patience to ask the questions that mattered, the ones that would make it good. “Tell me how you like it.”

“Hard,” she answered immediately. “And rough—I like it when it hurts. Does that shock you?”

“Maybe at first,” he admitted. “But I've been here a while, Jeni. I see Bren in the cage and Noelle at the parties. I see all the ways people fit together. You like pain. I want to be the one who gives it to you.”

“Don't forget this.” She ran the tip of one finger between his eyebrows, smoothing the furrow he hadn't even realized was there. “I want this intensity, too. All over me.”

He could give her that. He'd give her every goddamn thing she wanted, anything she'd ever dreamed of. But he'd start here, with something a little bit selfish—something he wanted, too. “Then stand up.”

She held his gaze as she slipped off his lap and stood in front of him. Simple, sweet obedience.

His heart beat faster. “Take off your clothes.”

Her shirt went first, falling away slowly, one button at a time. When it hit the floor, she reached for her jeans, undoing them with the same careful attention, each movement an individual answer to his command.