Page 3 of Bitter Beats

I look up sharply, clutching my chest. How did Mav—the ass-smacking, loud-sex moaner—come downstairs without making a peep? “You scared me.”

“I should say that to you.” He lifts his eyebrows. “Breaking and entering?”

I glare at him. He with his bare chest, save for the ink that scrolls over his right pec and down his rib cage. He with the obscene washboard abs. What the hell—who has an eight-pack? Is that even a thing?

On Maverick Tate it is.

He clears his throat, and my eyes snap to his. My cheeks blaze as mortification rocks through me. He totally caught me checking him out. Something I mentally swear to never do again.

“Like what you see?” Mav taunts.

For lack of a comeback—cut me some slack; I haven’t had my espresso yet—I roll my eyes. “I’ve had better.”

He cackles. “It’s cute when you lie to yourself, Mckenna.”

I wrinkle my nose. While Allegra and her crew—the rest of The Burnt Clovers—call me Kenny, Maverick insists on using my full name. Allegra thinks it creates distance between us; I’m convinced it’s to piss me off.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again, reaching across the butcher block island to swipe my espresso.

“Hey.” I lunge for the demitasse cup.

Maverick smirks and downs it like a shot of tequila. He smacks his lips in approval.

“You suck,” I tell him, moving to the espresso machine.

“Morning, babe,” he says, and I look over my shoulder in time to see an adorable blonde clad in yellow boy shorts and nothing else enter the kitchen.

“Oh my God!” She claps her hands over her bare nipples. She may have the perkiest breasts I’ve ever seen. “I’m so sorry! Mav said no one was home.”

“Mav’s a liar,” I tell her, turning back to my espresso. She should learn the truth now.

Behind me, I hear his amused chuckle. “I didn’t know Mckenna was crashing here. In fact, I still don’t know why Mckenna is here…”

I don’t say anything, becoming engrossed in making my espresso to give him and the blonde a moment. To ensure the redness in my cheeks subsides. I fumble the demitasse cup, thrown off guard by the blonde’s appearance, by their easygoing interaction.

“I gotta get to work,” she declares. The sound of a kiss. “See you around, Mav.”

The slap of an ass cheek. “Later, babe.”

Her footsteps sound on the stairs again.

“Coast is clear,” Mav says.

I heave out a sigh and turn around. Arch an eyebrow. “You’re not going to offer her breakfast? It seems she gave you one hell of a night.”

He slips onto a barstool and crosses his arms over his chest. “Listening, were you?” His eyes scan me, and I know he finds my appearance lacking by the scowl that pinches his lips. Not that I care. “Poor Mckenna. Still no man? I can’t imagine any dude wanting to put in the Herculean amount of effort necessary to help you discover your G-spot.”

I flinch at his vulgarity.

He snorts. “Your G-spot is?—”

“I know what a G-spot is! I was surprised by your use of the wordHerculean. Big words aren’t really your thing.”

He narrows his eyes. I smile and take a sip of my espresso.

The sound of the front door closing rings out. The blonde departed with no tears or pleas for a repeat. Color me impressed.

“Last time I’m gonna ask. Why’re you here?”

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