Page 40 of Maverick

My eyes squeezed even tighter and I gripped my cock just as tight, pumping hard into Grace’s imaginary mouth, showing her just how I liked—no, wanted—her to take my cock. I gripped her hair and fucked her mouth, growling when her tongue shot out and coated the underside of my dick in moisture, the tip of her tongue grazing my balls. “Oh fuck, Grace.”

She took me deeper and moaned as though she liked it too.

The sound vibrated against me and shot up my spine, then she took me even deeper until I hit the back of her throat. “Fuck, babe. So good.” My hands tightened in her hair and my hips thrust faster and deeper until the telltale needles pricked the base of my spine and down my legs. “Grace,” I warned as my balls tightened.

Her response was to grip my ass cheeks and take me deeper, swallowing around me with a moan.

“Fuck,” I shouted as my cock exploded and shot down her throat.

My eyes opened as long jets of come arced across the shower and fell down the drain. “Oh fuck!” One hand smacked against the wall as I sucked down oxygen, desperate to catch my breath.

Balls empty and lust momentarily satisfied, I stepped out of the shower and dried off quickly, suddenly hungry, and eager to set eyes on Grace again. When I stepped into the kitchen, I realized my mistake.

Grace was bent over the oven and her beautiful heart-shaped ass high in the air, and my cock was interested as if he hadn’t just come down her throat minutes ago.

“And now we have rolls! Oh, hey!” Her smile was bright and my gaze lasered in on her lips, pink and plump and shiny.

“Hey. It smells good in here.” My stomach growled loudly, making Sophie laugh.

“He’s hungry too, Mommy!”

I laughed and sent a mock glare in the little girl’s direction, which only made her laugh harder. “What can I do to help?”

“Um, grab drinks.” Grace loaded the rolls into a basket—where in the hell did she find a basket—and set them on the table, turning around instantly to grab a bowl of mixed vegetables.

“Beer, wine, or water?” My voice was accidentally gruff.

“Wine,” Sophie answered with a giggle, and damn if that wasn’t the best sound in the world.

I frowned. “You got some ID, ma’am?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a card that says you’re old enough to have wine.” I hadn’t spent much time around kids until Leo came around, but being around a little girl was different. She was funny and sweet, but she was affectionate and looked at me like I was some kind of hero. “How about water for you? Or juice?”

“Soda?”

Grace groaned as she set the steaks in the middle of the table. “Juice for Sophie. Wine for me. Water for everyone.”

“I don’t like water, Mom. It doesn’t taste like anything.”

“Then how can you not like it? It’s refreshing and tasteless, and so good for you.” She flashed a smile at the little girl, and it was still there when her gaze landed on me. “For everyone,” she repeated.

“I’m having a beer,” I said with a frown.

“Of course,” she stammered nervously before she found her confidence and squared her shoulders. “But you’re also having water.”

I laughed. “That mom glare doesn’t work on me.”

She held the stare until I reached into the fridge and grabbed a third bottle of water. “Now,” she sighed as her smile grew. “Let’s eat.”

It was, hands down, the best damn dinner I’d ever had. The steak was perfectly juicy everywhere except the ends, which she’d cut and given to Sophie. The vegetables, which Sophie and I both ate reluctantly, were delicious and fresh. The rolls were incredible, and I ate four of them.

“Fuck, Grace, this was incredible.” I patted my stomach. “Seriously, I loved every bite of it.”

“You said a bad word,” Sophie said, her tone accusatory but her smile filled with awe. “Can I say that word too?”

“No,” Grace said immediately.

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