Hawk's Property: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 1) (4 page)

“Did you fuck her?”

“Nah, thought we were gonna, but her friend got drunk and kept puking her brains out. Kinda put an end to any pussy, you know?”

Banger laughed. “You’re getting old. There was a time you would have fucked that bitch with her friend’s puking as background music.”

Hawk smiled. That night at Rusty’s, he’d noticed Cara the minute he’d stepped into the bar. He was a tit man, all kinds of tits, but big tits always held a hot spot for him. And that sweet, sexy lady had his favorite kind. He could see his mouth kissing her breasts, his tongue circling her areola, then licking her nipples to stiffness. Fuck, he loved a soft, curvy woman with big breasts. He could get lost in them. If it was up to him, he’d have had his throbbing cock between those precious boobs before they even left the bar.

That night, Hawk caught her checking him out many times, and when he looked at her, she had acted embarrassed. He hadn’t had a woman act shy when he stared in a long time. Not since Afghanistan, anyway, but that didn’t count because most of the women cast their glances downward over there. He was used to the whores around the clubhouse who threw themselves at him. But he wasn’t complaining, of course—a few of the mama sluts gave real good pussy and head, and it fucking kicked ass that he could have it whenever he wanted some. He just thought her embarrassment was cute. It was nice.

Shit, what the fuck was he thinking? He didn’t do
nice
.

Hawk had wanted to fuck Cara real bad that night. Damn, her body shimmied every time she moved. He was getting a hard-on just thinking about her and remembering her soft, full lips. Those lips, wrapped around his cock, sucking him loud and wet…Yep, he definitely would’ve liked to have ridden that sweet one. He’d been thinking about her ever since Rusty’s. She did something to him.
Aw, hell…

“So, what’s on your mind?” Banger asked, breaking Hawk’s thoughts.

“I don’t like the way the badges are focusing on us. Have you noticed it? I mean, they’ve been to my shop a few times looking for shit. I don’t like it. Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Did they find anything?”

“Not a damn thing. I’m not stupid. I know my probation ends in two months. Maybe they just want me to screw up so they can throw my ass back in the slammer. The motherfuckin’ pricks.”

“It’s not just you. They’ve hassled Tiny, Helm, Axe, and some others. Jax stopped them twice from coming in here and searching for drugs and guns. He called that lawyer we have on retainer, Anderson, and he came down and told the badges their warrants were full of shit. The next warrant they come with will be a good one, that I’ll fuckin’ guarantee.”

“So, what the shit’s goin’ on?”

“I dunno, but I agree, they’re trying to fuck with us. There’s probably a crackdown on one-percenters ’cause of some political junk. They’ve done this shit every few years or so…motherfuckin’ assholes.”

“Maybe…it doesn’t feel like that. It’s like the MC is being targeted.”

Banger slowly nodded. “We gotta address this at church next week. We need to be fuckin’ altar boys until we get this shit straightened out.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

“I heard the mamas are gonna put some steaks on the grill. You stayin’ for chow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around.”

Hawk made his way back to the great room, the main place the members congregated to play some pool, watch football, shoot the shit, and drink. Couches around the perimeter, tables and chairs, bar stools, two pool tables, a jukebox, and a dartboard gave the room a casual feel. Hawk leaned against the wraparound bar. One of the prospects, Jerry, approached him.

“Get me a shot of Jack.”

Jerry placed the shot glass down on the bar. Hawk took it and threw it back. With the whiskey’s bite scorching his throat, he motioned Jerry for another.

He looked around the room as he swigged the second shot. He saw one of the old brothers, Rob, with one of the mamas. His wrinkled ass jiggled as he banged the whore. Hawk wondered if he’d be like Rob in thirty years: a wrinkled ass, no old lady, just club whores to fuck on worn-out sofas. He motioned Jerry for a third shot.

Yep, that’ll do it.
This was the one that gave him the buzz. Hawk pulled out a crumpled napkin and unfolded it, the one with Cara’s number. He took out his phone and dialed it, wanting to see her again. He wanted to get to know her a whole lot better, especially her pussy and those tits. Damn, just thinking of her made his cock jerk. He was like a twelve-year old.
What is it about this one?

“St. Clair’s Hospital. May I help you?”

“Uh—sorry—I—uh—must have misdialed.”

Hawk redialed more slowly the second time, making sure he punched all the right numbers.

“St. Clair’s Hospital. May I help you?”

He narrowed his eyes into slits. He drew in his breath. “Sorry, wrong number.”

“Sir, are you looking for someone in particular? Maybe I can help you.”

“You already have.” He slammed his phone on the counter. He picked up his shot glass and squeezed it, fury building inside of him. The glass shattered in his hand and drops of his blood dripped onto the counter.
Fuck!
Hawk would make her pay for this shit. No bitch made him look like a fool. Not. Ever.

“T
hey found another
body. I just heard it on the radio.” Asher greeted Cara with the news as she came into the office.

“Crap, no. Where did they find it?”

“Some hikers found her in a shallow grave near Wolf Creek Pass. Can you imagine finding that on your hike?”

“Was it the same as the other ones?”

Asher nodded. “Yup. Blonde, young, stabbed, and probably raped.”

Cara shivered. “What a sicko. There’s no way this isn’t a serial killer. This is, like, the seventh body that’s been found in the last year: always blonde, young, with horrible things done to her. Why can’t they find this psycho?”

“Yeah, he’s a definite psycho. I worry about you.”

Cara looked at her assistant and smiled. Asher had been with her when she first opened her law practice, about four years earlier, and was her first employee. Not only was he her legal assistant, but he acted as her receptionist and “track down witnesses and information” guy. Without him, the office wouldn’t run as smoothly as it did.

“Haven’t all the victims been blonde and very young? I think my brown hair is my shield, and even though I look good for twenty-eight, I don’t look eighteen.”

“I’m just saying, be careful. And you need to tell your friend Sherrie the same thing. She’s crazy sometimes.”

“I won’t argue with you on that. She’s crazy way too often.”

Cara went into her office to prepare for her eleven o’clock appointment. Even though her workload was heavy, she had agreed to take on the referral because it came from a colleague who’d asked as a favor, since he had to have surgery and would be out of commission for a while. When she first finished law school, Les had been a great mentor to her, so when asked, she acquiesced to take the case.

Cara was tired, but she loved being on her own, and she found helping the underdog had its rewards. After all, wasn’t that why she went to law school—to help people, to make sure justice was served for everyone and not just for the ones who could afford it? She knew her father was disappointed because she went into criminal defense instead of corporate law and didn’t join his prestigious law firm, but she wanted to work with people, not companies and figures. She also wanted to make her legal mark on her own, without favors from her dad.

Sighing, she looked out the window. The Rocky Mountains, dotted with vibrant evergreens, never grew old. Cara wished she could stop a bit, breathe a little, and do something unpredictable. Her life had always been so well-manicured.

Coming from a good family burdened her with having to keep up appearances. Her actions had to be thought out; she couldn’t bring shame and scandal to the family. Her cousin, Eric, who was like a brother to her, was a district court judge and was constantly reminding her that his position was an elected one. As such, the family name could never be tarnished.

It was so tiresome, so predictable. She longed to do something a bit wild, on the dangerous side. She had the appearance of being a goody two-shoes, and she was, for the most part. But a smoldering darkness lay deep inside her. It was that part of her that held dark, erotic fantasies she could never verbalize. Sometimes, the urge to break free and give in to her lust was all-encompassing, and Cara had to will her inner demon to stay hidden under the layers of her good-girl persona.

Meeting that biker at Rusty’s the previous Saturday night threw her for a curve. Of course, he
was
hot and sexy, every part of him oozing machismo. Looking at him with his long, dark hair, blue eyes, tattoos, earrings, and leather jacket made her heart race.

The way she was attracted to the well-built biker scared the crap out of her. Cara had never reacted to a total stranger like that before. She’d convinced herself it was the alcohol, but the next day, and every day since, her skin tingled when she thought of him, when she remembered the way he kissed her, their close dance, and his arms around her.

Crap, I’m getting turned-on just thinking of him, and at work, of all places.
What the hell is the matter with me?

The phone rang and Cara jumped out of her chair.

“Your eleven o’clock clients are here. They’re early.” Asher’s lowered his voice to a whisper. “And they look badass scary.”

Cara laughed. “Tell them to come in.”

Heavy footsteps and jangling chains announced her clients’ entrance into her office. Cara had her back to them as she rifled through a filing cabinet. “Have a seat, gentlemen. I’m just pulling a file.” She swung around in her chair. Sitting in front of her were three leather-and-jean-clad men, all staring at her. The oldest leaned forward, saying, “I’m Banger. This here is Jax, and this is—”

Cara knew who he was before Banger said his name. Hawk’s deep blue eyes bored into her, and his ebony black hair shined under the florescent lights.

“Hawk,” Banger finished.

“Nice to meet all of you.” She blushed when she glanced at Hawk. She couldn’t believe
the sexy biker
was in her office. She hoped
he
wasn’t the one who needed the legal help.
Crap, this is awkward
.

Hawk didn’t say a word, his blue eyes fixed on her.

“So, what seems to be the problem? Les didn’t give me too many details.” She turned her attention to Banger.

“Well, I’ll be honest here. We don’t do business with bit—women. Les ain’t able to help us ’cause he got some medical shit goin’ on. He said you’re fuckin’ good, so we gotta go with you. But, you know, we don’t have bitches—oh, excuse me, I mean women—who do this shit, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jax whispered to Hawk. “We only have bitches for pussy.” He elbowed Hawk. Both of them chuckled, Hawk’s eyes never leaving her face.

Cara pretended she didn’t hear. She looked each one of them in the eye. “You don’t have to hire me. I won’t be offended. I have a full caseload and agreed to meet with you as a favor to Mr. Anderson. I can recommend some excellent male attorneys in the area.” She started flipping through her Rolodex.

“Hold on there, pretty one. We didn’t say we didn’t want you. It’s just that we ain’t used to relating to women in this way, you know?”

She looked at Jax, whose head bobbed in agreement. Hawk just sneered at her.
Why in the hell don’t I just tell these chauvinistic assholes to get another attorney? You better appreciate what I’m doing for you, Les.

“Just so no one’s uncomfortable,” she said.

“We ain’t. It’s just somethin’ new, that’s all.” Banger smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“What’s going on that brought you here?” Cara asked.

Banger pointed to Hawk. “Hawk here has had his shop searched a few times, and the fuckin’ badges have come to the clubhouse and tried to pass some bullshit warrants, but Les took care of that.

“Why have they singled you out? Do you have a record?”

“He’s on probation for assault,” Banger answered for Hawk.

“Assault? What went down?”

“Just a barroom brawl. Nothing big,” Banger said.

Turning her head, Cara caught Hawk’s eyes. “Is that true? Nothing more than a few punches?”

Stone-faced, he nodded.

“Have they come to your home?” she continued.

Still staring at her, Hawk shook his head. Cara bit her lower lip.
Damn, he’s good-looking.
His cut revealed geometric and swirled tribal armband tattoos over his muscular biceps. On his left forearm, he bore a tattoo of a fierce-looking hawk, its eyes piercing and intense. Framing the hawk’s orange-yellow beak were sharp, black talons dripping blood. Its vividness was mesmerizing.

Patches covered his leather cut. There was a diamond-shaped one with the symbol “1%er” on the left side. Hawk’s outstretched legs were tight in his blue jeans, showcasing his muscles. Cara licked her lips and forced herself to turn away. Instead, she focused her attention on Banger, questioning him about various incidents with the cops.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hawk staring at her, a smirk on his face.
I bet he caught me checking him out.

Turning toward Hawk, she said, “If the cops come over again, call me right away, okay?” He lifted his chin.

Banger got up, looking at Cara, and said, “You take care of us and we’ll take care of you. You fuck us and, let’s just say, we ain’t the forgivin’ type.”

“I’ll do my best with all of your cooperation.” Staring Banger right in the eyes, she tried to prove she wasn’t going to let any of these think-they’re-badass bikers intimidate her. She could hold her own. “I need to know the truth at all times. No secrecy or game-playing. If so, I walk.”

Hawk sneered. “Yeah,
truth
all the way, counselor.”

Banger and Jax walked out. Hawk stayed back and said to Banger, “I’ll catch up with you later.”

Standing in front of her desk, Cara stiffened when she heard Hawk’s words. The last thing she wanted was for him to loiter around her office. The minute he’d walked in, her body betrayed her. No, she did
not
want him to hang around.