Jumping In (5 page)

Finding a guy to fuck wasn’t difficult. Hawthorne was small, but there were neighboring towns and bigger cities a car drive away where Clint could walk into a bar on almost any night and meet someone who wanted to get off. But finding a guy who wanted to touch and talk was hard. Finding a man who wanted to hold him and was large enough to do it was harder. And finding someone he was drawn to anywhere near the way he was to Hawk Black was impossible.

With a sigh, Clint tipped his head back against Hawk’s broad chest and let himself enjoy the rare romantic moment for as long as it’d last. No other buildings were visible, just some faint glimmers on the horizon that could have been lights or could have been stars.

“Are we outside the city limits?” he asked, keeping his voice low to match the intimate mood.

“Not quite.”

“Town center’s ahead of us and to the left, yeah?”

He felt Hawk’s nod against the side of his face, their cheeks rubbing together.

“I didn’t think there was any private property out this way,” Clint said, finally getting his bearings and realizing where they were. “I thought it was all Hawthorne land.”

“It is.” Hawk buried his face in the side of Clint’s neck and inhaled deeply.

“What’re you doing?” Clint asked, trembling at the action.

“Smelling you.” Hawk breathed in deeply. “You smell fucking amazing.” He squeezed Clint tightly for a flash, then released and slipped his hand around Clint’s. “You’re shivering. Let’s go inside.”

Although the shivers weren’t temperature related, it was cold outside so Clint followed without argument. He stomped his boots in front of the door by habit and then stepped inside the warm house.

“I’ll hang up your jacket.” Hawk rubbed his hands over Clint’s arms and up his shoulders, massaging for a few seconds before pulling off the denim jacket and draping it over one of the hooks beside the door. “You can take your boots off too, if you want. The wood floors aren’t too cold.”

As Clint stepped out of his boots, Hawk flipped a few switches, bathing the house in warm light.

“Bedroom’s to the right. There’s a great beehive fireplace.” Hawk flipped back around so he was facing Clint, his blue eyes dark and his pupils dilated. “Your skin’s going to look amazing in the firelight.” Hawk stepped closer. “Do you know how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about you naked in that room?”

“No.” Clint shook his head, completely off-balance. “I didn’t know you, uh, felt that way.”

“God damn.” Hawk stepped even closer and combed his thick fingers through Clint’s hair. “For such a skilled cop, you have no idea what’s staring you in the face.”

“Maybe I suck at my job,” Clint said, trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re great at your job. Here and in Detroit. And your military record’s impeccable. You have a Distinguished Service Medal and a commendation.” Hawk grinned. “Seems like your people reading skills just short out when it comes to me.” Hawk tipped Clint’s face up. “Why is that?”

“You know why,” Clint said, seeing no point in playing games. He was at Hawk’s house for one reason and they both knew what it was.

“You want me.” Hawk leaned down and brushed his lips across Clint’s jaw. “Not the same way I want you, but it’s a start.”

At twenty-eight years old, Clint wasn’t a stranger to the concept of going home with a man to screw. Hawk Black probably had close to ten years on him, so he had to know the score too. Which meant he had to understand that the things he was saying, the intensity with which he was looking at Clint, and the tenderness in his touch weren’t standard fare for a hook-up.

“Did you plan this?” Clint asked, remembering Hawk saying he’d gone to the party that night hoping to see him.

“Oh, yeah,” Hawk admitted easily. He slid one palm to Clint’s neck and massaged him while he cupped Clint’s cheek with the other.

“How’d you know I’d be there?”

“Where?” Hawk dipped forward until their lips were only a breath’s distance apart.

“Ewan’s party.” Clint dragged his palms beneath Hawk’s suit jacket, over his muscular chest. “How’d you know I was going?”

“I didn’t.” Hawk skated his lips over Clint’s in a barely there kiss. “But after seeing you at the station, I thought there was a chance you’d show up and I wanted to be there for you.”

Be there for you.

After a few seconds gazing into Hawk’s eyes, Clint grasped Hawk’s jacket collar with both hands, tugged him close, and pressed their mouths together, licking, nibbling, and sucking. The kiss was bruising, passionate, and full of pent-up need Clint didn’t realize he carried. Without thought, he rubbed his groin against Hawk’s thigh, ramping his arousal higher.

“So hot,” he mumbled. Hawk was even better in person than he had been in Clint’s fantasies. He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten, and then an uncomfortable thought occurred to him. He pulled away, leaving Hawk panting. “How’d you get in?” Clint asked.

Hawk licked his lips and blinked.

“Do you know Ewan? Is that how you got in? Is that how you knew about the two of us?” An even worse possibility slammed into him. “Was he fucking you too?”

The soft, hazy arousal disappeared from Hawk’s eyes in a flash. “No,” he growled and pulled Clint forward, slamming their bodies back together. “There’s only one man I’m interested in.” He ground his cock against Clint. “And that’s you.”

“They weren’t going to let me in without an invitation,” Clint pointed out. “How’d you get in?”

“The bride’s father is smart enough to know who he needs on his side to succeed in this town so I was invited. I hadn’t planned to go, though. Not until I realized you were back and you might show up.” Hawk curved his palm around Clint’s chin and cheek and looked into his eyes. “Listen to me carefully. I didn’t say the words while you were with that guy out of respect, but that shit’s over and I’m done holding back.” He bit Clint’s lower lip, hard. “I want you. Do you finally hear me?”

“How long?” Clint rasped, his lungs burning, his heart racing, and his balls tight as stones. He bucked against Hawk, making contact with his thick erection. “You know what? Never mind. We can talk about it later.” He licked Hawk’s lips and when they parted, he moaned and slid his tongue inside. “Show me that bedroom, man. I need…” He drew in a shaky breath, the desires coursing through him too deep and intense to put into words. “I just need.”

“Yeah, me too.” Hawk moved his hand over Clint’s chest, found his nipple, and twisted it through his shirt. “Going to do you so damn good, baby. You’ll see.” He kissed Clint again and then stepped away, looking like it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Why’d you stop?” Clint asked before he could stop himself from sounding so needy.

“Because I need to get some coffee and food into you first.” Hawk flipped around. “Kitchen’s this way. Come on.”

“Not hungry,” Clint said, but he followed Hawk, his gaze darting between his broad shoulders and his backside. He wanted Hawk to take off his suit coat so he could get a better look at his ass.

“Yeah you are. You’re still drunk too.”

Not nearly as much as he had been twenty minutes earlier. That little scene in the entryway had infused him with shots of sobering adrenaline and arousal.

“I’m fine,” Clint assured him as they passed by a den furnished with brown leather sofas and colorful native blankets.

“Once I know you get it, I promise to fuck you sober, drunk, and everything in between.” They walked into the kitchen and Hawk went straight for the coffee maker. “But right now, you need some coffee, food in your belly, and a little more time to let the alcohol pass.”

“You trying to sober me up enough to drive home so I get out of your hair?” Clint joked.

Hawk froze and looked at him over his shoulder. “I’m trying to sober you up enough to decide the opposite.”

Clint furrowed his brow.

“You’re not ready.” Hawk tilted his chin toward the bar stools around a wood-topped island. “Have a seat. A little wrestling in the bedroom’s fun, but only when it’s a game. I’m not into doing guys who aren’t willing.”

“Aren’t willing?” Clint asked incredulously. “I know you didn’t miss the seven inches of wood in my jeans.”

“Too drunk to know you were in no condition to drive home isn’t willing.” Hawk arched one eyebrow and grinned as he grabbed his dick. “And I’ve got eight and a half.”

Clint snorted. “Congratulations, man.” Realizing he wasn’t going to change Hawk’s mind, he sat on a stool. “Bet I’m thicker, though.”

“Thick’s good.” Hawk’s voice was husky. “You won’t get any complaints from me about thick.”

Tearing his gaze away from Hawk before he started drooling or begging, Clint distracted himself by looking around the kitchen. The space was bigger than the tiny corner in his apartment where he cooked, but it wasn’t huge. The cabinets were oak, probably a few decades old but in decent condition, and the countertops were a traditional Saltillo tile.

“I’m good on a grill but in the kitchen, about all I can make are scrambled eggs and spaghetti.” Hawk walked over to the fridge. “Pick your poison.”

“Eggs are good.” Clint’s stomach growled at the mention of food. “Toast too, if you’ve got it.”

“Not hungry, huh?” Hawk chuckled. “A heaping plate of eggs and toast coming up.”

“Want some help?”

“Nope. I’m wooing you, remember?” He put a frying pan on the stove and turned on the gas.

“I don’t need wooing, man.”

“No?” Hawk looked at Clint as he untwisted the tie on a bread bag.

“Weren’t you the guy I was dry humping five minutes ago? I’m as good as gotten.”

With a smile and a shake of his head, Hawk picked up an egg and cracked it against the side of the pan. “I figured out your dick liked me a long time ago.” He tossed the eggshell back into the carton and moved on to the next one. “I’m aiming for an organ located higher up.” One by one, he added the rest of the eggs and then scrambled them with a fork while they cooked. “They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. That means I have to show you my mad cooking skills.”

“My stomach’s not that picky, man. I’m much more interested in my dick.”

“So you’re saying I should bypass the stomach because the way to your heart is through your dick?”

“Something like that.” Clint laughed.

“Then I’m golden.”

Hawk plucked the toast from the toaster, tossed it from palm to palm until he reached the plate, and then began buttering it.

“That sure of yourself, huh?”

“What can I say?” Hawk plated the eggs. “I’m great in bed.”

“I’ll believe it when I finally see it.”

“You’re speaking in whole sentences and all your words finally make sense, so I think that’ll be pretty soon.” He put the plate in front of Clint along with a fork and knife and then stepped over to the coffee maker. “Eat up.” He poured the coffee into a mug and set it in front of Clint.

“Aren’t you eating?” Clint asked through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“I’m good. I grabbed dinner with Gabriel before the party.”

“Gabriel?” Clint reached for the mug and drank some coffee.

“Martinez.” Hawk walked to refrigerator. “The mayor.” He came back with two bottles of water.

“Work dinner or do you hang out with your boss socially?” As soon as the question was out of his mouth, Clint realized it was invasive. “Sorry. Forget I asked. That’s none of my business.” Clint opened the bottle and began chugging down the water.

“Yes, I spend time with Gabriel socially. We’ve known each other since long before he became the mayor of Hawthorne.” Hawk sat down on the stool next to him. “And of course it’s your business. Everything about me is your business. That’s the only way this thing is going to work.”

“This thing,” Clint repeated while finishing up his eggs. “You mean the whole wooing your way into my heart bit?”

“It isn’t a bit.”

“No?” Clint pushed away the mostly empty plate and folded his arms on the counter. “Then what is it?”

Hawk turned in his seat so he was looking directly at Clint and then, without flinching, said, “It’s me telling you I’m in love with you and I’m going to do my damnedest to get you to feel the same way about me.”

Facing down a criminal with a gun pointed at his head would have been easier for Clint than making that kind of confession, so he had to give Hawk credit for bravery, even if the man was insane.

“You can’t be in love with me.”

“Really? Why’s that?” Hawk asked, sounding amused. “Enlighten me.”

“Because you don’t know me.”

“I’ve spent the past two and a half months finding every excuse under the sun to get to know you, Clint.” Hawk reached for Clint’s hand and curled his fingers around it. “You were born on November 11, 1986 in Flint, Michigan. You have a brother, John, who works in a bank and another brother, Derrick, who teaches school. Your mother’s a nurse and your father does books for medical offices. You’re not particularly close to any of them. You enlisted in the army out of high school, served for six years, then went back to Michigan and became a cop. Two years after that, you moved here to Hawthorne. Your favorite color is red. Your favorite beer is Full Sail Amber. You like animals more than people. You have a high sex drive and a great sense of humor.” One side of Hawk’s lips turned up. “Two of my favorite qualities in a man, by the way.”

“How do you…?” Clint blinked rapidly, trying to remember everything he’d talked about with Hawk over the past few months. When he thought about it, he realized that he ran into Hawk at the station or around town four or five times a week and every single time, they ended up chatting. “You’re a good listener,” he admitted. “But some of those are just guesses.”

“You adopted a dog who got hit crossing the road and lost a front leg, paid for all of her medical bills, and named her Speedy. You did the same thing with Fluffy, the fire survivor without fur on half her body.” Hawk smiled and shook his head. “Only a man who loves animals and has a wicked sense of humor would do that.”

“Fine.” Clint laughed along. “But the sex drive thing’s just a lucky guess.”

“The only thing lucky about it is the orgasm count I see in my future. My analysis is based on data, pure and simple.”