Page 68 of Reckless Hearts

“Asshole. You were supposed to text me.” Maverick’s yell can be heard from around the corner, seconds before he walks through the adjoining door and freezes in place.

Callie stiffens in my arms, trembling fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt, holding on to me. With shallow breaths, she waits for Maverick’s reaction.

I hold her firmly in place when she squirms, flight instincts kicking in. There’s no way I’m letting her go now.

He takes his time, soaking in Callie’s naked body, pressed against mine.

His gaze stalls where her fingers clasp me to her, then where I’m still gripping her ass. “Well, don’t stop on my account.”

“I… I… uh,” Callie starts but stutters, not knowing how to go forward.

“I’m going to need you to tell me what you want,” Maverick says, taking a step closer. His large frame fills her entire vision.

“I want… I…”

Callie’s heart pounds into my chest, and her chin trembles as she tries to come up with an answer.

I glare at Maverick. He better hurry the fuck up he’s scaring our girl.

“Do you want me to leave, Wildflower?” Maverick rasps, throat raw, pain audible in his question.

It’s his turn to stiffen, jaw clenched, arms crossed over his chest like he’s bracing for her response.

I’ve seen him stare down bulls and not look this terrified. The tendons in his neck are pulled taut, and a muscle ticks in his jaw from the force of keeping himself in place as he waits for her answer.

“I don’t want you to.” She sucks in a ragged breath. “I don’t want either of you to go.”

I dig my fingers into the soft rounds of her ass, squeezing it hard in approval.

A soft whimper escapes her lips, and my cock jerks in my pants, straining to escape.

If we don’t hurry it the hell up, I’ll embarrass myself by coming in my pants.

“Just keep it fair.”

It’s a low command, Maverick’s tone firm, but even he can’t hide the heat, the desperation to get to her.

Fuck.

We’re really doing this.

“I will.”

It’s a whispered promise, nearly impossible to hear, but Maverick must know what she said because he pulls his shirt off with one hand, revealing a chest carved from years of riding, of holding on through every twist and buck.

The shadows catch on every line of him.

He’s not just strong but he’s built for control, for endurance.

And fuck me, I notice.

My mouth waters. I swallow it down, but it lingers, thick in my throat.

I shouldn’t be okay with this.

I should be jealous. Angry.

He’s my rival. The one person who knows exactly how to push me over the edge.

---