Page 11 of The Stunt
She has a room booked for the evening so she can sleep before her jet takes her back to New York in the morning, but I don’t like the idea of her going there alone. I know Carlo won’t be far, but I still don’t like it.
“Stay with me tonight,” I say. “You can have the guest room again and you won’t have to worry about anyone seeing you.” I feel the desperation in my bones as I wait for her answer. I know I won’t be able to sleep tonight unless I’m sure she’s safe. And I can’t be sure of that unless she’s under the same roof as me.
She chews on her lip nervously. I want to reach out and pull it free from her teeth before soothing it with my tongue. But I don’t. Instead, I wait for her to put me out of my misery.
“Okay,” she says. “But under one condition.”
“Anything,” I reply, way quicker than I fucking should.
The corners of her plump lips turn up slightly. “Will you lay with me again?”
Fuck.
“Of course, I will, Songbird.”
EIGHT
BELLA
Carlo pullsinto the underground parking lot and stops in front of the revolving door to let us out. I love that it’s a private entrance and we don’t have to worry about being bombarded by fans and paparazzi. As much as I love my fans, there are times where I just want a moment to myself. And even though I know the point of being with Mav is to be seen publicly, I find myself wanting to be alone with him. The way he held me tightly when we were making our way through the crowd back at the restaurant did something to me. I have five bodyguards and there have been times when all of them have surrounded me at once while I made my way through a sea of people, but I’ve never felt safer than I did with Maverick’s arm possessively wrapped around me.
I know I shouldn’t be agreeing to stay with him tonight. And Idefinitelyshouldn’t have requested that he lay in bed with me. But I want to be near him. I want his body pressed against mine again.
Over the past few days, I’ve been thinking a lot. We definitely crossed a line the first night on the couch. But I can’t bring myself to really regret it. Coming on Maverick’s lap was themost alive I’ve felt offstage in my whole life. I know this whole relationship is fake, but why can’t I explore things with him physically while we’re doing this? It’s not like I can just run off and find someone else to do that with when I’m supposed to be dating Maverick. I’m twenty-four years old and I’ve only had sex once. Very unsatisfying sex, I might add. I want to know what it’s like to feel pleasure until I can’t take it anymore. So, whycan’the be the guy that gives it to me? I can tell by the way he looks at me that there’s chemistry. It may just be physical, but that’s okay. He said he doesn’t date during the season anyway, so casual sex is probably normal for him right now. As long as I can keep my feelings in check, we can totally make it work. Just because I want him to be the guy that shows me what sex should be like doesn’t mean I need to fall in love with him. And I’m positive he won’t be falling for me.
We make our way to the elevator, riding up to his floor. Nerves hit me out of nowhere when I think about everything I want. What if he says no? What if the kisses and touching reallywerejust practice for the cameras? I have no idea how to seduce a guy. I don’t even know where to start with trying to get him on board with fooling around some more.
Stop overthinking, Bella. Just see how it goes.
We sit in the living room, Schitt’s Creek playing on the TV, while we wait for Carlo to bring my bags from the hotel. Thankfully, this time I was prepared for a night in Boston. All I can think about while we sit next to each other on the couch is the way he had me riding his lap right here the other night. How he gripped my hips and showed me the right angle to make myself feel good. How thick his cock felt rubbing against me.
I’m broken from my fantasy when his phone rings. “Hello,” he says in greeting. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He stands. “Your bag is here. I’ll grab it.”
A minute later, he returns with my overnight bags in his hand. “Here you go,” he says, handing them to me. “I’m going to jump in the shower. I’ll use my ensuite. You can use the other bathroom.” He smiles before taking off down the hall.
I go into the bathroom, throwing my hair up in a messy bun before I take a quick shower. After I’m dried off, I pull my silk pajama set out, mentally high-fiving myself for not bringing a ratty t-shirt and sweats to sleep in. I lotion my body, get dressed, and brush my teeth before returning to the living room. Maverick sits on the couch, engrossed in whatever is on his phone, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. Good Lord, he’s hot.
Catching his attention, he looks up at me. His mouth opens like he’s going to say something, but he closes it, opting to take in my pajamas instead. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows roughly. “Ready for bed?” he asks, his voice full of gravel.
“Yes,” I reply. I’m internally freaking the fuck out, but I try to play it cool as I reach out my hand for him to take. He does, standing as I lead us to the guest room.
As I make my way down the hall, he pulls on my hand. “Do you want to sleep in my bed? It’s more comfortable,” he says.
Holy shit. This is really happening. I’m so nervous, I can feel my palm getting clammy in his.
“Umm, yeah,” I whisper. I’m afraid if I talk louder, he’ll hear my voice shaking. I haven’t forgotten that this relationship is fake. But the way I want Maverick to touch me is very real. The anticipation of what actually might happen between us tonight has me ready to combust as I follow him into his room. It’s all dark wood with a king-sized bed. The sheets and comforter are plush and white. They look like I could just sink into them, and they’d carry me off to dream land.
I try not to stare as Maverick pulls off his sweatpants, leaving him in only his black boxer briefs. He notices my avoidance and stops with them around his knees. “I, uhhh, normally sleep naked. Will it bother you if I’m in my underwear? I’ll be too hot in these pants.”
Too hot, indeed.
I shake my head frantically, trying not to look like an inexperienced almost-virgin. “No! You’re fine,” I say, entirely too enthusiastically. I’m awkward enough with guys as it is, but thisparticularguy, in only his underwear, is making my brain short circuit. He removes his pants, throwing them over a chair in the corner before he pulls back the covers. I slide into bed next to him and lay on my back, pulling the duvet up to my neck.
It’s official. I don’t know what I’m doing.
I read romance books all the time with strong female characters who see a man they want and seduce him into doing filthy things to them. They make it seem so easy, but here I am, stiff as a board, not knowing what I should do next to let Maverick know that I want him to put his hands on me.
When I finally get the courage to look over at him, I see the same expression on his face. He can’t be nervous, right? His body language speaks to the contrary. His muscles are tense, fists balled tight. The duvet is pulled over his bottom half, and I can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.
