I brace myself one-handedly on the sink and put my mouth under the tap, swallowing, choking, drinking more.
The things we take for granted… Can’t ever remember going so thirsty in my life. Or so hungry, so cold. So fucked up.
I bow my head, let the water drip from my long hair over my face. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? At least I’m not tied up anymore, and—
Movement from behind me makes me flinch. It’s the door of the toilet stall. I turn around so fast my heads spins, and bile rises in my throat.
The fuck? I clench my fists anyway, getting ready for a fight.
And blink at the girl coming out of the stall.
“Layla?” I whisper, my fists dropping to my sides. I’m gaping at her like an idiot, because how is she still here? Why?
Am I still fucking dreaming?
She’s staring back at me, clutching her purse in one hand. Her dark eyes are wide and red-rimmed, as if she’s been crying.
I frown. “Hey. Come here.” I open my arms and she says nothing, but a moment later, she slams into me, throwing her own arms around me, her purse thudding to the floor.
“Shh.” I stroke her back, stroke her hair as she cries against my chest, sobs racking her body. I bury my nose in her silky hair. “What happened? Are you all right? Has anyone hurt you?”
She shakes her head, sniffing, her tears soaking through my shirt, and it shouldn’t feel so good.
Not her tears, not her sadness, but her. Having her in my arms, so trusting, so soft and sweet-smelling. Knowing she let me hold her to ease her pain.
And her body, pressed so close to mine, has its usual effect, only this time it’s stronger than ever, the need sharp like a blade. I grunt, my dick hardening, pushing against my zipper. Seeking her out.
It knows what it feels like to be inside her, how fucking good it is. It wants her, craves her heat and tightness, the feel of her, and we are in total agreement.
She lifts her tear-streaked face, and before I know it, I’m licking saltiness off her soft lips. She moans softly, pressing her mouth to mine, and I lose control
Just like that, just from her mouth on mine, her sweet body in my arms, I snap, not caring if Sandivar or his men come inside and find us, if it puts her in danger, if it destroys all the work I’ve done, everything I’ve endured and put in line to get the information back to the police.
Yeah, I don’t give a flying fuck about any of it as I turn us around and push her against the counter, lifting her until her cute little ass is parked on it, pressed up against the sink.
Then I yank down her leggings and panties and press my thigh between her legs, while distracting her with a deeper kiss, twisting my tongue around her tongue, licking up the inside of her mouth—until I’m distracted too and moaning against her lips, unable to remember what I’m supposed to be doing, my dick on fire.
She folds her arms around my neck, holding on to me, her pussy rubbing against my leg. Her naked pussy, I think, and oh yeah, I remember now.
Gotcha, babe. I’ll take good care of you.
Unlike last time, and hell, even knowing my reasons for what I did, for taking my pleasure and not caring about hers, I feel like a heel. Swearing on my grandpa’s grave I’ll never do anything like that again, not even if my motivation is sound, not even if I’m half-concussed and out of options, I slip my hand under her loose blouse and find her breast.
It fills my palm. Kneading it, making her shift restlessly and moan, I find the hardened nub of her nipple through the silky material of her bra and torture it with my thumb, back and forth, back and forth.
She gasps in my mouth and writhes on top of my thigh. My dick jumps inside my pants, and I pull back to push my hard-on down before I push my other hand under her blouse and grab her other breast.
I’m in titty heaven. I want to see them, lick them, suck on them, but her movements are growing frantic, her whimpers loud.
“Oh God, Hawk,” she breathes, “oh my God, I’m going to come.”
She’s never come from my mouth on her tits before, let alone my hand, but hell yeah.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her, squeezing her tits, pressing my thigh between her legs, and suck in a sharp breath when she moans my name and shudders. “That’s it. Come for me.”
And she does. She comes apart with a soft cry, her hips jerking, her nails digging into the back of my neck, her head thrown back.
Jesus Christ.