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  Red returned an hour later, checked on my progress then told me he was heading out for rig eight. There was a map on the wall, small pins sticking into it with little tags hanging from them marked with the names of the crew members at each location. He moved a red-tipped pin from the office we were sitting in and pushed it into a big number eight about five miles away.

  "Normally, the boys check in with their cell phones and it's logged automatically on the server, even in Iraq, but we've had to go old school out here." He grabbed a baseball cap and smoothed it over his gray hair. "I'll bring that air compressor back with me."

  I nodded, my insides jumping at the thought of being left alone in the building with Hawk McKinley. I spent the next fifteen minutes fidgeting with inventory lists at my desk, my ears sensitive to the slightest sounds within the building. Hearing the doorknob behind me start to rotate, I straightened at my desk and stared a little harder at the open spreadsheet. I was here to earn back every damn dollar in that envelope, and not a penny of it would be spent socializing with Hawk McKinley.

  "Red show you where the coffee maker is at?"

  My brows popped up. "Am I supposed to make coffee?"

  "No." He stopped in front of my desk and turned the cup over. "You're supposed to drink it. Of course, if you can brew a better pot than Red, please do."

  "I don't drink coffee." I nodded at the water dispenser with its inverted five gallon jug. "But I can brew it well enough."

  "Mm-hmm." Hawk grabbed the little green cup on my desk and proceeded to fill it with water.

  He brought it back, leaned close to place it next to me, then straightened and continued to stand in front of my desk as I worked. I lasted three minutes pretending he didn't exist before I lifted my eyes to glare at him. "Is there something else Mr. McK--"

  There was nothing professional in the face staring down at me. Hawk's mouth had formed a sultry pout, like he was holding a plump strawberry between his lips and trying hard not to dent the skin with his teeth. His eyes had gone soft, his gaze floating against my neck and the swell of my breasts. His hands danced along the top of my desk, the strong, deft fingers stroking its edge like a man might stroke the folds of his lover's sex.

  "Look here, Hawk McKinley." I pointed at my eyes then wagged my finger at him. "Thanks to your little heart-to-heart with the man who was my employer for the last eight years, I don't have a job any more. That's the only reason I'm here and you're not getting anything out of me you didn't get out of Red's last four clerks. And I hear they were all men. So unless you have some real interesting stories to spin about that, you just need to keep your hands in your pockets and your eyes in their sockets and let me work!"

  With a naughty grin lighting his face, Hawk shoved his hands in his pockets. Fat bit of good his compliance did me -- the gesture pulled the front panel of fabric tight, removing any mystery of just how long and thick Hawk McKinley got when he was hard.

  I choked a little air in and swallowed. Biscuits and gravy, the man was packing a mighty big load.

  "No promises on where I keep my eyes, sweet tea." The smile in his voice told me he knew exactly what I was thinking and where I was looking. One hand left its pocket long enough to stroke a finger under my chin and lift my gaze until it met his. "Maybe you better throw on a parka or something tomorrow if you're really worried about me drinking in every curve of that sweet body."

  He finished with a wink and walked back into his office, shutting the door behind him.

  Alone in the reception area, I nodded and grabbed a small memo pad and pen from the side of my computer.

  Buy parka!

  **********************

  The work week passed quickly. Hawk was out of the office more than he was in attendance, or he was hours deep into phone calls around the globe. Red remarked more than once how the boss had overstayed his visit a good week, which was why he had to spend so much time on the phone. If every nerve ending in my body hadn't been acutely aware of Hawk's placement, I'd have barely known he was there.

  Until late Friday afternoon, that is, when he started purring around the office five minutes after Red headed out to rig eight, the site's official problem child. It started with chit chat -- like him asking me if I was looking forward to a real weekend off and did I have any plans. I kept my nose buried in my work, giving him single syllable replies.

  "You almost sound disinterested, Ginny." Hawk stood in front of the filing cabinet with his back to me. He'd been there a good three minutes doing nothing that looked like real work and everything that looked like a big, fat pretense.

  "I am," I snorted, forcing my gaze back to my computer screen. The task almost proved too much for me. Hawk McKinley has a gorgeous backside, whether it's dressed up in a silk suit or cheek-hugging jeans like he had on right then.

  "Sweet tea, didn't anyone lecture you about the evils of lying?" His voice was full-on purr by that point.

  "I'm not."

  Hawk turned and leaned across my desk, yanking my attention from the computer to his blue-gray eyes. Framed with dark espresso lashes and brows that looked black as often as they looked dark brown, his eyes were beautiful, just like the rest of him. They saw too damn much, as well. His mouth quirked up in a smile and he slowly shook his head side-to-side.

  "You need to work on lying, little girl, and on ogling a man's ass so he doesn't realize you're doing it."

  My cheeks flushed hot and I closed my eyes, ready to tell Hawk he was all ass, from his salon perfect hair to his pedicured toes, when the front door flew open and Red came in bleeding and swearing, Beau hot on his heels.

  I gave Beau a quick look over to make sure he was okay as Hawk and I rushed to Red's side.

  Red shook us off and went to the sink in the break room. "It aint nothing but a little cut."

  Seeing the amount of blood, I wanted to disagree but I rushed to grab the first aid kit instead. The gash ran across the meat of his forearm for about two inches. "You're going to need stitches."

  Shaking his head, he grabbed the kit from me and poured disinfectant over it then plopped down in the chair and pulled out a handful of steri-strips. Hawk took over, holding Red's arm flat against the table and taking the butterfly stitches from him.

  "Ginny's right. We'll get the bleeding stopped, but then Beau's driving you straight to the clinic." He jerked his chin at my brother to get his attention while I went back to my desk and called the emergency clinic in town to inform them Red would soon be on his way.

  Returning to the break room, I tried not to hover. The bleeding seemed under control and not as bad as I first thought. Red still had plenty of color in his cheeks, so he must not have lost too much on the drive over from rig eight.

  "What the hell happened and why wasn't first aid done at the rig?" Hawk growled his questions at the two men.

  Seeing the cold anger burning in Hawk's eyes sent a shiver down my spine. If anyone was to blame for the accident, I wouldn't want to be them.

  "The turntable slipped." Red grimaced as he answered, fat beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. "And that damn fool Deitrich didn't have a kit on site. That rig aint cursed, it's just the shit-for-brains rig boss running it."

  Beau, who hated to say anything bad about anybody, gave a firm nod. Hawk's mouth flattened to a grim line. He hoisted Red up and Beau took the other side while I rushed to open the office door for them and then the passenger door to Red's truck so they could fold him inside.

  "I'll take care of number eight, old man, and its boss." Hawk gave Red's shoulder a little squeeze then tossed Red's keys to Beau. "You just let Kelly drive you to the clinic and then home. And don't hustle the nurses too much. I'll stop by this evening and check on you."

  A smile broke across Red's face and he winked. "If there's a pretty enough nurse, I might not be alone. Make sure you knock and give me plenty of time to get my pants on!"

  A soft smile playing across his lips, Hawk waved them off then ushered me back into the office, his fac
e grim once more. "Get me Dietrich's file and the time cards for the rest of the crew on eight."

  Quickly checking the board, I grabbed the timesheets and the file and handed everything to Hawk.

  He placed the stack on my desk then grabbed my shoulders. "Lock the door. No one from eight needs to come back to the office today for any reason. Let the other crews in and process them for the week, but not Dietrich. The man's a hot head and I don't want him blowing off any steam and scaring you in the process."

  I started to give Hawk a look telling him I could take care of myself, but he cut my protest off at knees.

  "You will obey my instructions, Ginny, or I'll paddle that sweet ass when I get back. Do you understand?"

  Struck dumb by the threat, I nodded. Hawk smiled, pinched my chin and brushed his lips lightly across mine. Lightning sizzled through my skin and bones.

  "Oh, and that little conversation about you staring at my ass?" He kissed me, the little dip of his tongue inside my mouth so sweet and tender it curled my toes. "It's not finished."

  **********************

  A storm started rolling in two hours later. Half an hour after that, the crews followed, leaving early and reporting lightning strikes and hail. The last crew through the door said Hawk had radioed and wanted me to close up and head home. I gave a little sigh of relief. The storm had interfered with the radios, leaving me worried about whatever scene was unfolding out on eight. Plus I was in no hurry to see Hawk McKinley. I needed a little time on my own so my guilt over appreciating his backside wouldn't be writ large across my face when he decided it was time to finish our conversation.

  Seeing the last crew member out the door, I went around unplugging the computers and any other sensitive electronics. The storm sounded like a big one that wanted to last all night. Locking the door as I left, I about jumped out of my skin as lightning streaked through the sky to hit the ground.

  One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-

  BOOM

  I dropped my keys, terror filling my chest. The strike less than half a mile away, the cloud that had caused it was rolling fast towards the building. I scooped my keys up, took another look at the dark horizon eating up the sky and ran for my truck.

  My-beat-the-hell-up, older-than-I-was, useless-Chevy-that-would-not-turn-the-fuck-over truck!

  Don't panic.

  Stay calm.

  Another sizzle of white flashed closer than before, the first thousand count not even finished rolling off my tongue when another booming crack shook the vehicle.

  The truck door flew open. A big hand reached inside to yank me from the cab and rush me to the office door. Rain falling hard and fast, I couldn't see who had hold of me, just that it was a male. I prayed it wasn't Dietrich.

  The man got the keys out of my hand, opened the door then pushed me inside. I fumbled for the light switch, flipped it and turned to see Hawk soaking wet and locking the door. He peeled off his t-shirt, and wrung it out over the trash can as he stared out the window.

  Words don't do justice to how good Hawk McKinley looks bare chested and dripping wet. Lean, with all the muscle groups clearly defined, he's absolute perfection. Hell, he has muscles I've never seen except in a magazine, like the one along the side of his stomach. Big as an avocado, it would fill my palm if I was brave enough to touch him. Perfect for bracing my hands against if I were on my knees and taking him in my mouth.

  I tried to shake the image and peel my eyes from his naked torso, but little details kept drawing me back. Like the small drops of rain that sparkled against his tanned chest. Wanting to lick every last drop away, my tongue felt about three times its normal size and the flesh between my legs started to swell and ache.

  Still holding the shirt over the trash can, it fell from Hawk's hands at the same time he dropped an F-bomb.

  "Fuck, funnel cloud. Come on, baby girl." Grabbing me by the arm, he hurried me into the windowless storage room and pressed me against one of the inside walls, his body shielding me.

  Feeling me tremble against him, he dipped his head and rubbed his cheek against mine. "Shh…sweet tea. It'll blow through."

  The building chose that instant to lose power, the lights going with a sharp pop. I started to shake harder. Closing my eyes, all I could see was daddy hurt and tornadoes barreling down at him.

  Hawk wrapped his arms around me and tugged me to the floor. He had me sitting across one of his muscled thighs, his other leg over mine as the rest of his big body cradled me. "Come on, Ginny, you've been through storms like this before."

  That was exactly the problem. A storm like this had all but killed daddy and erased everything he'd worked so hard to build. What would this one do? I didn't think I could lose anything else -- anyone else -- and survive.

  "Shh…" Hawk rubbed my arms then squeezed me more tightly. "This building is meant to stand up to an F4, sweet tea. That itty-bitty cloud is probably gone already. We're just going to sit awhile…shh"

  As he spoke, his reassuring strokes along my arm slowly altered. They elongated, punctuated by little squeezes that were soon joined by kisses across my cheeks and against my quivering mouth.

  "Wh-what are you doing?" My whole body was shaking by then, fear just one ingredient.

  "Distracting you, sweet tea." He kissed me again, that time slow and long. His hand moved from my arm to cup my breast and thumb one thick nipple through my blouse. "Is it working?"

  Too breathless to answer, I burrowed closer.

  Hawk shifted ever so slightly. All out of office-type clothes that week, I had thrown on a Sunday skirt that hung long and loose past my knees. His fingers found the hem then he smoothed them up my plump thighs to stroke at the outside of my panties and the flesh beneath.

  I moaned and buried my face against his neck.

  "Is that a yes, sweet tea?" He rubbed his face against my hair as his fingers kept moving. "Are you going to let me stroke and kiss the fear away? Let me tease this soft, sweet pussy as my tongue fucks its way past those trembling lips and all you can think of is how good it feels?"

  I pressed tighter against his chest, my hips jerking once with lustful abandon. That moaning, cresting response was the only one Hawk would get, the only one he needed. His fingers slipped beneath the band of my panties as his mouth found mine. His tongue made feather strokes at the edges of my lips, seducing them into parting more fully as his grip against my pussy grew more possessive. He cupped my mound, the heel of his palm pressing firmly against the top split of my labia as a lone finger stroked lower down between them.

  I fought off a sultry whine of need until Hawk corrected me. "Sweet tea, I can't see you. Let me hear you moan."

  His hand shifted, curling so that the flat of his thumb nestled against my clit while that stroking finger moved to circle my hole. He dipped inside then withdrew, breaking the kiss long enough to suck my flavor from his finger.

  Back in, his tongue possessing my mouth, transferring my taste to me as he slowly fucked three fingers, hard and thick, into my cunt. His thumb rode the length of my clit and I started to wiggle, moving with him as my hands curled and clutched at his thick biceps.

  I mewled, my mouth still sealed to his. With a growl, Hawk abandoned my pussy to push my blouse up over my breasts. Uncupping one swollen tit from my bra, he bent his head and sucked the nipple as his fingers resumed their sweet torture between my tense and flexing thighs.

  "Come for me, sweet tea." He sucked the nipple deep into his mouth, taking in the areola and tip then pulling them taut as he drew back. "Moan for me. Let me feel this sweet pussy quiver around my fingers."

  His hands started to move faster, flexing, thinning, driving deep and fast into me. I began to buck, letting him hear me as I came around his fingers, my cream warm and thick against my thighs, my pussy pushing more out with each contraction. Tears streamed from me. He kissed them away before claiming my mouth once more, his fingers never ceasing until I was wrung out once more and collapsed against his broad chest.<
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  **********************

  I had no idea where things would go after Hawk finished kissing me and delivering the most intense, most sensual orgasms I had ever experienced. I know where he wanted us to go -- back to his rented house as soon as the storm cleared. He wanted to strip me bare and take me in his bed, to drive me to that same point of ecstasy as often as the night was long.

  I couldn't. Hawk McKinley isn't exactly the most anonymous person in Tupperville, neither am I. And, while the sprawling ranch he leased for the year isn't smack in the middle of Tupperville, it has neighbors close enough to see who's going in and out. The whole town would start gabbing five seconds after the first neighbor recognized me. Not to mention momma and daddy would be sick with worry because I was late already, and I needed to know they were okay, too.

  Folding me into his Mustang because my truck still wouldn't start, Hawk gave me one last growl and went around to the driver's side. "What time do your parents turn in?"

  Pretending to straighten my skirt, I mumbled ten.

  "And Beau?"

  My cheeks flushed hot. It was nobody's business if Beau spent most nights at Shelly's. "He's not a problem."

  I fidgeted, my hands jumping from the seat belt to the door lock to the air vent, all to avoid having them anywhere near my fevered flesh. My body still tingled with the memory of Hawk's touch, my stomach and insides squeezing around an invisible center as I thought of all the sweet, dirty, delicious things he said he wanted to do to me.

  "Then I'll be at the end of your drive, headlights off, at eleven," he warned. "If I don't see you, I'm grabbing my guitar and singing outside your window."

  "You can't! Why, daddy would--"

  Hawk stopped my protests with the clamp of his hand between my legs and a long, hard squeeze. "Eleven, sweet tea."

  Okay.

  At eleven-oh-five I slid back into the Mustang, moonlight glinting off an acoustic guitar in the backseat. Hearing me gasp, Hawk chuckled and quietly pulled away from the drive. I watched my house through the rear view mirror, heart thumping in my chest until it faded from sight without any lights going on inside.