Page 8 of Pit Stop

CHAPTER

TWO

SKYE

I know where Maverick lives.I’ve been here once or twice, usually when I’ve been in the car with Forest and he had to drop something off. It’s a trailer park on the outskirts of town, a little run-down and a bit shady, but it seems to fit Maverick just fine, and he’s still within the boundaries of the pack.

We all pretty much stick together, and it’s the lone wolves you need to be careful of, the ones to watch out for.

As soon as the motorcycle shuts off and my helmet is pulled from my head, Maverick leads me toward the dilapidated structure he calls home.

“Come on, almost there,” he says when I stop suddenly to rut against his thigh.

His hand trails down to my ass and he paws at it.

“Gods, you’re insatiable. I would never have guessed you’d be like this,” he murmurs.

“And how did you think I’d be?” I ask as I reach down and rub the heel of my palm along his big cock.

“I don’t know. I guess I assumed you’d be more clinical about it. Just based on seeing how you usually are.”

I don’t like that at all, my insecurities blooming within me. “Yes, well, it seems my heat has overridden my common sense. I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

He flinches slightly and then shakes his head. He turns away and unlocks his front door, tugging me inside and switching on the light. It blinks on after a few seconds, illuminating the old interior. The combined living room and kitchen area is small but tidy, and the furniture all looks second-hand. But at least it smells clean in here.

I used to scoff at the thought of him living in a ratty place like this, but right now, it’s perfect. Everything about it is just right.

Especially Maverick, standing there, looking like a fucking snack.

“Gods, you’re so fucking hot. Why are you so damn hot?”

His cheeks flush, his hand moving through his hair.

“Fuck, I want these off,” I whine, tugging at the fabric that’s scratching my oversensitive skin. It’s too warm, too much. I feel suffocated. “I need them off.”

He turns toward me and helps me shuck my clothes, tossing them into a pile on the floor. It’s fine, they need washing anyway. They’re a fucking mess, full of slick and cum.

My ass is still leaking, a mix of the two of us, and I watch as his nostrils flare as he inhales.

“Why are you still dressed?” I ask, starting to paw at him like an animal, trying to get him naked.

I want him bare. I want to feel his skin against mine. Being clothed during this has been horrendous. It’s like a craving I still haven’t been able to satisfy, and I’m losing my mind.

My hands slide across his shoulders as I push his leather jacket off and then drag his shirt up. As soon as his skin is exposed, I lean forward and drag my tongue across his nipple.

“Oh, fuck yes,” I say as I grind against his bulge. “Take the jeans off. Please.”

“Please? Really? Say it again.”

“Fuck off,” I murmur, and he chuckles darkly but does as I ask. Nothing he’s doing is fast enough though. I’m left whimpering as he steps out and kicks them to the side. His dick is straining out toward me, and I push my body against it. It drags across my stomach, leaving a trail of pre-cum on my skin.

His hands grip my back and drag down to my ass, firmly spreading my cheeks.

I stand up on my tiptoes, trying to give him better access to my hole. I whimper when two of his fingers slide down my crack and push into me.

I tilt my head up, meeting his dark gaze. “Please. Please, Mav.”

His eyes catch on my mouth, and I watch as he wets his lips.

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