Page 36 of Crazy Good
She tilts her head to the side, letting her gaze land on every part of my body at least once. My cock? She went there twice. “I can be your girlfriend for the night,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. Like I said. She knows exactly what she wants. She’s taller than Windsor and her eyes are brown. They’re nice eyes. Her lips are full, covered in a nude colored gloss. It reminds me of bare skin. Windsor’s bare, tan, naked, skin.
Remember what I said about old habits dying hard? I start thinking maybe I could just take Lexi to a hotel and bag her. Maybe a few times just to get sex out of my system. It wouldn’t mean shit. It never means shit with the others. It’s like working out. Or cooking a meal. Or taking a shower. Something you have to do everyday for your health and survival. I’d go home and I’d be a better man for Windsor. I wouldn’t be wound up like a fucking top. She’d want that, right? I should fuck Lexi. She’s giving it up so easy that it’s meant to be. No attachments. Just raw sex.
I’m attracted to this girl, but I’d have to picture Windsor to get off. I know it. And how fair is that to the girl or to Win? Stone hooks his arm around my neck.
“How’s that tat feeling, man?” he asks. I’m snapped out of my weird fucking hotel fantasies, and disgust takes their place. Fuck. What is wrong with me? Stone stares down Lexi.
“I have a girlfriend,” I repeat to the girl, but mostly for my own benefit. The definition of girlfriend runs through my mind. I thought about cheating on Windsor. I did more than think about it. I had the whole scenario planned out—a mental cheat. Stone knows it too. He gives me a knowing look.
“Fine,” Lexi says, hiking her shoulders and walking off to the bar. I’m all but forgotten, written off her list of conquests for the night. I’m fucking relieved. This will happen again. It always does. I need to get used to rejecting the old Maverick norm.
“Let’s get out of here,” Stone says. He slams his beer and we leave. I drive back to our hotel. My cell phone chimes a few times in my pocket but I can’t take it out and look at it. I feel like an asshole. I haven’t had a sip of alcohol, but my stomach churns and my throat feels thick. I don’t deserve to see her kind, sweet words. I don’t deserve anything from Windsor. Not even her fucking trust.
I rub my chest with my palm. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough. I’m a walking fucking disaster.
Chapter Sixteen
Windsor
I’ve moved some of my things into Maverick’s house. I want to surprise him when he gets back from his trip. Hesitantly, Morganna gave me a key to his house. I’m positive she called to ask him first, which totally ruins my surprise.
I have candles scattered around and I put some of my clothes in his closet. I also filled the shelves in his shower with all of my girl products. I love being in his house. It feels like I’m with him, even though he’s not with me. The house suits him perfectly. He’s right, you can tell a lot about someone just by looking at where they live. Albeit a few girly touches, I wouldn’t change a thing.
While he was gone I missed him more than I’m comfortable with. It’s like a warm-up for when he leaves for six months. The thought makes me tear up and cringe at the same time. It’s an odd sensation. I don’t know if I should feel this proprietary after the short amount of time we’ve known each other. I know he feels just as strongly, but he won’t admit it to me. He tells me I’m his everything. I think that is secret code forI love you. I think.
Do people like Maverick Hart say I love you? Do they only think it and assume women should know? He’s good at everything. That fact is obvious when you look around his house…and his garage. And also one glance in his bedroom has my knees shaking, but that’s just me.
It’s unreal I get to call him my boyfriend. Not only that, but the fact that I actually have a relationship after the Nashhole makes me happy. I thought for a long time I’d never get over him. Maverick makes that easy too. I barely even remember Nash and his adulterous ways.
Kathy calls and texts to bitch about how she is lonely, and needs me to come and stay with her again. She misses me. Or she misses someone to drive her to the store when she’s too drunk to drive. I’m sure she doesn’t ask her girlfriends to do that for her. That’d be too embarrassing. It’s a daughter job. You shit on the people you’re closest to. Even though she assures me money isn’t an issue, because shemade outduring the last divorce, I still worry she’s going to end up living in my spare room any day now.
My cell phone chirps at me from the kitchen counter. It’s a text from Maverick.We got in early.Stone is giving me a ride home. Meet me at my place?
I text back, Sure.I’m disappointed. I wanted to pick him up from the airport and have that run into each other’s arms moment. I hope he feels my irritation through my text. I laugh because that’s insane. Nothing else from Maverick comes through.
I do get a text from Gretchen listing a bunch of crass, dirty sex positions, because she can and that’s Gretchen. I had an actual professional wax my landing strip this time, much to Gretchen’s dismay. My hair is freshly blown out and I had my makeup done—nothing crazy, just simple and pretty. It’s my everyday look enhanced by a professional’s hand. I chose a black, casual cotton dress. It hugs my curves and boosts my chest. I reapply some clear lip-gloss and scrutinize my appearance in a large gothic mirror that hangs on a wall in one of the corridors.
I didn’t snoop through his house, as I’m sure most people would. I want Maverick to show me everything. I want to know what he finds important about his house. What will he show me first? What does he like the most? These things will all help me crack the code. Sleuthing for details about him and his personality take creativity. I think I know something about him and he does a complete one eighty. I never know what to expect from him.
The front door opens. I don’t hear it close. I run down the hallway, my bare feet padding against the solid wood floors. Maverick drops his leather bag from his shoulder and stares at me. Okay, maybe Morganna didn’t tell him she gave me a key. He looks delectable, like always. He looks even bigger than I remember. But the last time I saw him we were in my small, pink bed. Shock crosses his face, mixing with raw emotion. His hands tremble by his sides. I feel my smile fading from my face, praying to God that this is a surprise he’s okay with.
I give him a little wave. “Surprise?” I say, my voice wavering a little.
His gaze hasn’t strayed from my face…my eyes. He’s doing that weird thing when I know for sure he’s trying to get a read off me. I cross over to him, walking slowly but purposefully. He crushes me against his body, leans down, and inhales deeply. His heart is pounding. I actually feel it on my cheek—solid, steady, obviously not the slow normal pace of a heart.
“Is this okay?” I ask hesitantly.
Dipping his head lower, he places his face in my neck. Taking another long, deep breath he says, “This is more than okay. I missed you so much, Win. I missed you,” he whispers into my ear, causing my insides to quiver.
Sweeping my hair away, he kisses my neck, and then my ear, cheek, and now he’s looking at my lips. He doesn’t kiss them. He just stares at them. I smile after a few awkward seconds of lip staring pass.
Then I kiss him, interlocking my hands high, around his strong neck. He slams his eyes shut, almost as if my kiss pains him. I coax his lips open and deepen the kiss, pressing my body as close to his as I can. Candles melt when you light them. I melt when Maverick Hart kisses me. Into. A. Puddle. Of. Mush. His lips give me small doses of delirium. I pull away before I lose myself completely.
His head follows me back and his lips are almost back on mine. “I missed you more. I also made dinner. Morg gave me a key. I moved some of my stuff in while you were gone. I hope you don’t mind,” I give him all the important details in a Windsor ramble. Finally. Finally, the smile appears. He narrows his eyes. “We only have a few weeks until you leave. I wanted to be thorough,” I deadpan.
“My, my. You’ve been busy…and sneaky.” He nips the tip of my nose with his teeth. “I like it though. I like it a lot. You here. Your stuff here. Coming home and you’re here. All of this. I love it all,” Maverick growls. He said the L word. Why do I even care he said it? I wouldn’t notice that word coming out of any other mouth except his.
He picked up on the fact I noticed right away, because he does what he always does when he wants to move past something. He kisses me. Closing the door with a free hand he backs me toward the couch, his lips never breaking from mine. We crash down on the sofa and the scent of expensive, worn leather wraps around me. My hands go to the edge of his shirt automatically. I want it off. I want his skin and all of his glorious muscles as close to me as humanly possible. The second my fingers touch his skin, he pulls away from me.
