Free Sinful Rewards 12 by Cynthia Sax

machines.
    â€œWe’re here.” Hawke dismounts. None of the bikes are as pretty as his.
    And no one has a helmet as gorgeous as mine. I tug on the straps. “Why are we here?”
    Since I last visited, the owner has redecorated the diner, covering the glass windows with silver paper. I have no idea why he would block the natural light, but then, many of his past decisions haven’t made sense either.
    Hawke unbuckles my helmet. “When a man is proud and excited about an upcoming event, he often throws a party.” He lifts me off the bike and presses my body against his. “I’m proud and excited.”
    My lips twitch. “Judging by the state of your junk, you are excited.” There’s no mistaking the hard ridge in his jeans.
    â€œI’m proud and excited.” He stresses this combination, a combination I used this morning.
    I want to be his first and only choice, to know he’s proud and excited to be marrying me . Butterflies flutter in my stomach. My mouth dries. Has he brought me to my hometown to propose? I gaze into his mirrored sunglasses.
    My reflection horrifies me. “I have helmet head.” I rake my fingers through the moist strands. Only a crazy man would want to marry someone looking the way I do. “I’m a disaster.”
    â€œYou’re a breathtaking disaster.” Hawke leans his forehead against mine. Fortunately for me, he is a crazy man, a tattooed badass, a world-weary former marine. He sees the sexiness in my mess, the splendor in the disaster.
    I cuddle against him, trusting him to hold me, my palms flat on his chest. My feet dangle inches above the sidewalk, his casual show of strength impressing me. Hawke’s hot breath wafts over my cheeks, a soft, subtle caress reassuring me that he’s here. He wants me despite my mussed hair.
    â€œBeautiful.” His lips tease mine.
    â€œYou can’t properly see me.” I reach up, remove his sunglasses, revealing his gorgeous blue eyes. “That’s why you think I’m beautiful.” I clip the eyewear to the collar of his hideous T-shirt and glance upward.
    He’ll never be a handsome man, his face too rugged, too scarred, too worn by life, but when I gaze at him, my heart melts and my pussy moistens.
    Hawke groans. “Don’t look at me that way, love.” He slides my curves over his muscle, lowering me. “You know I can’t resist your fuck-me face.” His big body trembles.
    This is the power I hold over him. I make him shake with need.
    â€œYou don’t have to resist me. We have a bike. We can go somewhere private.” I glance around us. His men are watching us. “Or not.”
    The thought of dropping to my knees, pulling out his big cock, and pleasuring him in full view of everyone turns me on, pleasing my inner pervert.
    â€œYou’re so damn perfect for me.” Hawke hooks his arm around my waist, draws me to him, our bodies fitting together as though we’re made for each other. “Let’s attend our party first and then, later, you can have your wicked way with me.”
    â€œYou have a deal.” I wiggle against him. “Why did you choose to have the party here? Why not have it at the Road Gator?”
    â€œEveryone at the Road Gator already knows how I feel about you, love.” Hawke runs one of his calloused fingertips along my cheek. “And I want to make your fantasies a reality. When you dreamed of this moment, who else was there?”
    Is the moment he’s referring to a proposal, a forever commitment? “My mom and my friends watched us.”
    â€œAnd?” He lifts one eyebrow. The damn man knows me too well.
    â€œTara was there,” I mumble, sliding my gaze from his. “Mrs. Davis also, and my other tormenters.” They all saw my happiness, marveled at my good fortune, knew I was worthy of love. “It’s petty but—”
    Hawke places a finger over my