Page 39 of The Consequence of Loving Me

I think his name is Donte.

Right now, he’s kissing me against the front door. He laughs as he presses his weight against me, making a soft thud against the surface.

“Shh,” I say against his lips. “You’ll wake up my roommates.”

He snickers before continuing his assault on my mouth. His hands find the narrow of my hips and he slowly lets them drop until they’re tucked into the waistband of my jeans.

“You’re so hot. I can’t wait to explore every inch of you.” His hands drop lower and lower down my jeans until he’s cupping my ass.

I moan, leaning into him and shoving my tongue even deeper in his mouth. He lets out a growl low in his throat as he pushes me—harder—this time against the door. This time the sound is louder, but it doesn’t quite register through my alcohol-influenced mind.

Just as Donte’s hands start to explore my body further, the door swings open.

Unfortunately, that same door is the one we were just leaning against. Donte catches himself on the door frame, but I tumble right into a warm body.

“Shit,” I mutter as I try to push off the body I just fell into. Strong hands grip my elbows and spin me and I come face-to-face with Maverick. “Double shit,” I mumble.

His blue eyes are ice as they stare intently right over my head. They flick to me quickly, before looking back to the man in the doorway.

“Sorry to wake ya, man,” Donte says, extending his hand in what appears to be a fist bump. “We’ll be quiet when we go to her room, I think.”

Donte winks, and when I look back at Maverick, I notice a slight tick in his jaw as his nostrils flare. Donte looks down at his still outstretched hand, Maverick doing the same.

“She’s a stage-five clinger,” Maverick lazily drawls when he moves past us, then he slams the door in Donte’s face. The reverberation of the door being slammed makes the frames on the wall shake.

I stare in shock at the spot where, just seconds ago, Donte was standing. Now it’s just our ugly green door in my view. My gaze zeroes in on Maverick who’s staring right back at me. The look on his face breaks me out of my shock.

“What the hell, Maverick!” I yell, running a hand through my hair.

Maverick grabs me by the elbow and pulls me down the stairs to the basement. We pass the pool table and the old junky card table until we’re in my room. He closes the door behind us but doesn’t let go of my arm.

“Let go of me!” I protest, trying to pull my arm from his grip.

“Are you trying to wake up the whole house?” he accuses, his fingers slowly letting go of me, one by one.

Unfortunately, I can still feel the heat from them even after they’re gone.

“You just told him I’m clingy! I most definitely am not clingy!” I let out a breath of frustration at his cool demeanor. I swear this guy is never set off.

A small smile pulls at one corner of his mouth. “I had to get rid of him somehow.”

“No, you didn’t! We were right in the middle of…some unfinished business we needed to attend to,” I counter. The alcohol suddenly hits me and I feel the urge to sit down. I take the few steps to my bed and plop down on the white comforter.

“You mean sex?” he asks, but it comes out more like a statement.

“Yes, Maverick, sex. Not all of us are in committed relationships like you. We have to get off somehow.”

His eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he runs a finger over his lip. He looks like he wants to say something, but he must decide against it because he lets out a long sigh. We both glare at each other.

I sit on my bed, my head starting to spin. He stands across from me, his body leaning against my dresser.

“You’re better than being used for sex,” he says matter-of-factly.

I don’t miss how condescending his tone sounds. It makes my blood boil. He has no place telling me this. I laugh maniacally. “You’re such an ass, Maverick. We were going to use each other for sex. I wanted to get off, so did he. I had zero expectations from him. I’d rather be used for sex than have someone want a relationship out of me.”

A crease forms between his dark eyebrows. “Why are you so hell bent on not wanting a relationship?”

He hesitantly walks across the room and takes a seat next to me, so close our arms are touching. It’s odd, the way the slight brush of his arm against mine has my senses on overdrive.

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