Hawk Wild (Lost Boys MC Book 2)

  Hawk Wild, Book 2 of the Lost Boys MC series

  Copyright 2019 by Janice M. Whiteaker.

  www.janicemwhiteaker.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First printing, 2019

  Cover design by Robin Harper at Wicked by Design.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  Also By Janice M. Whiteaker

  wild

  adjective

  : Not subject to restraint or regulation

  : UNCONTROLLED

  also: UNRULY

  1

  “THANKS FOR LETTING me come.” I settle into the collapsible chair I brought from home and lay my head back, relaxing a little as the heat of the sun sinks into my face.

  “Letting you?” Kerri leans back into her own seat, kicking her bare feet onto the bench of the picnic table a few feet in front of us. “What in the hell do you mean letting you?”

  I blow out a breath. Kerri’s my best friend. Has been since grad school. She was the first person to understand my complicated...

  Personality.

  But it’s not just me and her anymore.

  Now Kerri comes with a whole pack of tagalongs, and at least one of them is not a fan of me.

  Apparently for as terrifying as these men look, they are a little delicate when it comes to their pride. Hell, as far as I know even Evan is still a little pissed at me over what happened.

  Which is stupid. It’s not like anyone got hurt.

  “You know what I mean.” I risk a peek around the yard, looking for a certain giant biker who hates my guts. Unsurprisingly, Hawk isn’t here. Probably heard I was coming and decided to skip the first cookout of the summer at Kerri’s mom’s house.

  Kerri rolls her head toward me. “I think you’re reading too much into it.”

  I scoff. “None of them will even look at me, let alone have a conversation.”

  It’s ridiculous. I know damn well these guys have done terrible, awful things that would probably make most people question my willingness to be here.

  But I drug a guy once and suddenly I’m the fucking devil incarnate.

  “No one here hates you.” Kerri straightens in her seat and leans closer. “You just have to understand these guys have a code they live by.”

  Obviously. Do something to one of them and they all shut you out. One for all, and all for one.

  “Maybe I should go.” I try to maneuver my way out of the low-slung chair, but the cork heel of my wedge sandal pins the hem of the gauzy dress I bought just for today to the ground and my ass slams back into the seat. I wrestle the breezy yellow fabric into a pile on top of of my lap and try again, this time managing to get up. “I’ll just call you later and we can have lunch or something.”

  Kerri shades her eyes with one hand and glares at me. “Sit back down and chill the fuck out. You’re being dramatic.”

  “Dramat—” Just then Gypsy passes me with a ceramic bowl full of potato salad. I push my shoulders back and give him a smile. “Hey.”

  His hazel eyes widen for a second before dropping to the ground. The path he was taking past me widens and I barely get a nod before he rushes away.

  I turn back to Kerri. “See?”

  “He’s busy.” She grabs my chair and wiggles it. “Sit back down and relax.”

  I flop back into the seat, the lightweight floral-print fabric of my new dress billowing around me. “I just don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

  Kerri lifts one shoulder. “Then go talk to Hawk about it.”

  My stomach clenches and I struggle to swallow, forcing my eyes not to scan the crowd I was sure didn’t include him. “He’s not here.”

  “Of course he’s here.” Kerri waves toward the house where she endured a childhood as screwed up as mine. “He’s probably inside.”

  I can’t stop myself from looking this time. The sliding doors along the back side give me a decent view of the kitchen and family room.

  And not a soul is inside.

  Kerri leans back and forth like he might suddenly appear if she just finds the right angle.

  As if you could miss the man. He probably takes up half the damn house.

  “Huh. Probably got stuck at work or something.” She picks up her empty beer bottle, making a show of noticing it’s empty before pretending to slide her bare feet into the flip flops tucked under her chair.

  I grab the bottle and my own. “I’ll go get another round.”

  She winks at me. “Thanks, friend.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I try to smile at every damn biker I pass on my way to the house. Each one of them shuts me down just as hard as Gypsy did.

  No one hates me my ass.

  I ease open the back door and head for the large kitchen, dropping the empty bottles into the recycling bin before opening the fridge to fish out two fresh beers.

  I’d been looking forward to this all week, thinking maybe by now everyone was over what happened.

  Obviously not.

  I slam the drawer a little too hard after I pull out the bottle opener.

  All I wanted tonight was to have fun. Hang out with people who were a little different. People a little less...

  Mundane.

  I never expected this group to be as uptight about shit as the ones I’ve been stuck with up until now.

  Kerri’s the most exciting person I’ve ever known. Everyone else is just...

  Boring as fuck.

  I pop the lids off both our drinks and spin from the counter coming nose to sternum with a wall of chest that blocks out my view of everything else.

  Everything but him.

  I haven’t been this close to Hawk since that night.

  The night he decided to hate me.

  But God the smell of him is just like I remember it. Spicy and clean and all fucking male. Maybe that’s how testosterone smells because this guy oozes that shit out his freaking pores.

  The panic twisting my gut is no competition for the butterflies swarming around the lining of my stomach. I force a deep breath and make my eyes move higher. Past the dark lines of a tattoo that peeks out at me from the v-neck of his grey t-shirt. Over the clean-shaven angle of his chin. I barely get stuck on the full curve of his lips before finally making it to eyes that are almost exactly the same heather grey as the shirt covering what I can only guess is more muscle than I’ve seen my whole life.

  But I’ve spent many nights guessing what that might look like.

  I stare at him.

  Should I apologize? Try to smooth over what was clearly a more serious offense than I guessed?

  Hawk stares back at me, unmoving.

  Is he even breathing?

  If he is he’s the only one, because I suddenly feel a little light-headed. I pull in a breath, both in the hopes of keeping myself conscious and in preparation to do what I obviously should have done months ago.

  “Stop.”

  The word is jarring enough to knock me back a step, bumping my ass against the count
er. “What?”

  Hawk’s eyes barely narrow as they study me. He steps closer. “I don’t want to hear what you were about to say.”

  I can’t control the scoff that comes out as more of a snort. “I—”

  “No.” Hawk closes in a little more as he cuts me off for the second time.

  I set the beers onto the counter, doing my best to censor the words that want to come out of my mouth. I’m trying to apologize to the guy for Christ’s sake.

  But now I’m pissed. I’m pissed at him for taking away my chance to finally have a little fun. I’m pissed at him for looking so damn good while he does it.

  And I’m pissed at him for trying not to listen to my fucking apology.

  “I’m so—” I try to shove it out quick before he can talk over me again.

  Which he doesn’t do.

  Instead, one big hand clamps over my mouth, heavy and strong. He leans close enough I can’t escape the weight of his gaze on mine. “I. Don’t. Want. To. Hear. It.”

  His hand barely relaxes and I could swear the tips of his fingers brush across my skin as he pulls it away. I’m not entirely sure because right now I’m considering biting that fucking hand off.

  It’s big enough it might take me awhile, but I’ve never been a quitter.

  “I was about to fucking apologize to you.” I can’t control the volume of my voice. I might be screaming at him. I might be whispering like a crazy girl. I don’t even know right now, because Hawk just took my level of pissed and shot it up to the top floor. “But it was going to be a lie.” I stand as tall as I can. Even in my wedge heels I’m still a good foot shorter than this giant of a man who deserves what I did to him.

  Retroactively.

  “I’m not sorry for what I did.” I stab Hawk in his chest, trying not to look down when my fingertip meets nothing but solid muscle. “I would do it again if I could.”

  Hawk’s lips barely twitch, the perpetual glare he always wears barely softening as his eyes drop to my mouth. “You mean that?”

  “What?” I lick my lips, suddenly aware of their existence as Hawk’s charcoal gaze focuses completely on the word as it slips out a little too softly.

  His big body eases a little closer to mine. “You said you weren’t sorry.” He leans in, his chest barely pressing into mine. “Tell me again you’re not sorry for what you did, Shelly.”

  I grab the counter with both hands.

  What is happening?

  Hawk’s hands rest beside mine on the counter, his arms barricading me between the proverbial rock and the hard place.

  But I don’t feel trapped.

  I feel...

  Excited.

  His intensity is unbelievable. The commanding tone of his voice even when he’s barely whispering in my ear.

  “Say it, Shelly. I want to hear that you’re not sorry.”

  I shiver but I’m not cold. Not with the weight of him barely pressing against me, blanketing my front in a spicy bergamot-scented heat that reminds me of summer nights on country roads. “I’m not sorry.”

  It’s the truth.

  And also what he seems to want to hear. Which is odd considering it’s the whole reason no one here will fucking talk to me besides Kerri and her mom.

  And Evan. He doesn’t hold what I did against me the same way everyone else does. At lease he doesn’t seem to.

  “Tell me why you’re not sorry.” Hawk doesn’t move away but he also doesn’t come any closer, and honestly I’m not sure which one I want him to do.

  Who am I kidding? I know exactly what I want him to do.

  Have known since that night at Kerri’s.

  Hawk’s exactly the kind of man I’ve only been able to admire from afar, wishing I could be the woman behind him on his bike.

  And under him in his bed.

  “Why aren’t you sorry, Shelly?” His tone is sharper this time, yanking me out of the temporary detour his closeness caused.

  “Why should I be?” I squeeze the counter a little harder, trying to keep my train of thought. “You were being a pain in the ass.”

  “Vicious.” The deep rumble of his voice makes my skin tighten into goose bumps. His lips are so close to my ear the warmth of his breath heats my skin as his body whispers against mine. “Ruthless.”

  I’d hardly call spiking a grown man’s drink with dust ruthless. I wasn’t trying to hurt him.

  I just needed Hawk to be less of a party pooper.

  It worked.

  “What other terrible things have you done?”

  The question barely registers because I’m suddenly having a hard time multitasking. I can breathe and stand upright or I can have a conversation.

  I’m pretty sure I can’t do both.

  When a big hand clamps onto my hip I’m down to one thing. All I can do is breathe and I’m not even handling that one well.

  His fingertips press into my flesh through the thin fabric of my dress. “Tell me what else you’ve done, Shelly.”

  “I haven’t done anything else.” I barely get the words out as his jaw rasps against my cheek.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He doesn’t believe me?

  The comment snaps me out of the stupor I fell into.

  He shoved me into actually.

  What the fuck is his deal anyway? Try to fluster the sweet little college professor then laugh behind her back at how she fell all over herself?

  Dick probably thinks I can’t handle him.

  I shove my shoulders back and grab Hawk by the jaw, forcing his eyes where I can glare into them.

  “I don’t give a shit what you believe, Shaun.”

  His eyes widen in surprise. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m not reacting the way he expected or if it’s because I know his real name.

  Honestly I don’t care. He’s fucked up something I was really looking forward to, and then tried to add insult to injury.

  And I’m not fucking having it.

  I’m enjoying this summer and it starts now. I stab him in the chest again, finding it much easier to ignore the firm line of muscle under my finger this time. “I don’t care what you think I am.” I shove him back a little. “I’m not putting up with your shit anymore.”

  I grab the beers off the counter and stomp away as loudly as I can manage given the soft cork of my shoe heels.

  Stupid man. I’m getting what I want this summer and he’s not going to stop me.

  I march to Kerri’s side and shove her beer at her.

  She eyes me. “What took you so long?”

  I glance up as Hawk comes outside. He stands just outside the door, his eyes locked on me. I tip my chin up and stand a little straighter.

  He’s not going to intimidate me. Didn’t then.

  Doesn’t now.

  “I ran into Hawk.” I glance down at Kerri when she adjusts in her chair.

  “Did you apologize?”

  When I look back up Hawk is closer, within earshot.

  “Nope.” I smirk at him. “I’m not sorry. He deserved it.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Might do it again if I get the chance.”

  No one’s laughing at me today. I might not be like everyone else here but that doesn’t mean I’ll be anybody’s joke.

  But Hawk’s not smiling.

  His eyes are dark, his body tight as he watches me. He might be leaning against the side of the house trying to look relaxed, but the man isn’t even close. He radiates an intensity I thought I might get the chance to experience in a personal sort of way.

  I was wrong. Clearly.

  Because that man hates me.

  Fine. There’s plenty of bad boy fish in the sea to give me what I want.

  Hell, I’m swimming in infested waters right now.

  I tip back a swallow of my beer, scanning the bikers milling around Kerri’s mother’s backyard, all here for the weekly dinner Jill hosts for the men her prick of an ex-husband fucked over. It’s stupid to see so many good-looking men in one place. You’d
think at least one of them would be a little mediocre.

  Nope.

  They don’t all look the same but every damn one of them is attractive in their own right.

  Which is good because all I need is one.

  One man to give me what I want. What I need.

  They can’t all hate me. There has to be someone here who doesn’t hold what I did to Hawk against me. “I’ll be back.”

  I wander away from Kerri toward a spot in the far corner of the yard where Evan stands with Butch and Preacher. Butch and Evan are close so I figure he’s my best bet. His presence is nowhere near as spine-tingling as Hawk’s, but his body is tight and toned.

  And he has a bike.

  And he’s rough around the edges.

  Dark and dangerous.

  Exactly what I’m looking for.

  Minus the intense scowl Hawk always sports.

  But a girl can’t have everything.

  “Hey, boys.” I side up to Evan, hoping my link to him will encourage the other guys to soften their stance on me. “How’s things?”

  I’m not sure what naughty boys talk about.

  But that’s what I’m here to find out.

  I put on my best smile, trying to show them I’m not the horrible woman everyone obviously thinks I am. The conversation that was happening when I walked up dies immediately. Everyone’s eyes shift around. No one smiles back. Each man’s gaze drifts over my shoulder before they literally fucking walk away from me.

  Except Evan.

  At least he has the balls to face me.

  “What the fuck, Evan?”

  He lifts his brows and gives me a little shrug. “Don’t know what to tell you, Shell.” He rests one hand on my back and turns me toward where Kerri sits.

  Hawk stands right behind her, glowering at me.

  No, not me.

  At where Evan touches me.

  For the love of God.

  Evan is my fucking best friend’s boyfriend and even he is supposed to hate me?

  It’s too much.

  Before I have the chance to think through the consequences of my actions I pull back my arm and throw the still-half-full bottle of beer in my hand right at Hawk.

  Impulse control has never been my strong suit. It’s what landed me here, sporting the title of ‘most-hated girl at the party’.

  Hawk’s eyes barely widen as the bottle flies through the air, connecting with a decent thump in the center of his chest before crashing against the concrete patio under his feet. His shirt is wet and I’m pretty sure some of the beer hit him in the face.