Page 19 of The Stunt
ELEVEN
MAVERICK
“Down!”the Pittsburgh quarterback yells over his hometown crowd. “Red eighty-eight! Ready. Go!” The ball is snapped, and I shoot off the line, trying like hell to get past the blocker, but he’s been getting away with holding me all day. It’s the AFC championship game and we’re winning. So far, it’s been a hell of a lot better than last year when we fought until the last second, just to go home empty handed. The Timberwolves offensive line is in survival mode already, trying to protect their quarterback so he can make some big plays.
“Hey, Taylor,” I chirp at him. “You want to grab my dick, too? Or are you all set just hanging onto my fucking jersey all day?”
He snorts a laugh. “Awww, Moran. Your little girlfriend not taking care of that tiny excuse for a penis? Sorry, I can’t help you. But, hey,” he gives me a cocky grin, “if you’re having trouble getting her off, send her my way. I’d love to bend her over and show her what a real man’s dick can do.”
Red takes over my vision. Before I can stop myself, I’m in his face, shoving him back. “Watch your fucking mouth,” I seethe. Because he’s a little bitch, he milks it, flopping to the ground. Isee the yellow flag hit the ground out of my peripheral vision. The ref clicks the button to activate his microphone.
“Personal foul. Unnecessary roughness. Defense number ninety-nine. Fifteen-yard penalty. Automatic first down.”
Fuck.
Ever since the photos of us from the Christmas tree farm last month surfaced online, all anyone can talk about is my relationship with Bella. Surprisingly, music fans and Blizzard fans alike have been pretty positive in their reactions. I’m guessing that’s partly a result of us being on a winning streak since the first game she attended. I’m averaging one and a half sacks per game, which is a career high for me. But I can’t take all the credit. The team has been playing their hearts out. And now that Blaze Beckham has his girl back, he’s doing better than ever. When we win this one, which we will, we’ll be headed to the Super Bowl. Twyla was downright giddy this morning, knowing she was one win away from the grand scheme coming to fruition. I know she hoped the Blizzard would make it to the big game, with my girl headlining the halftime show.
I line back up on the edge, coming face-to-face with Deacon Taylor. Although I have an overwhelming urge to rip him to shreds for even thinking about Bella that way, I don’t want to be ejected. So, I focus on the quarterback, trying to read his body language. He starts his cadence and I see it immediately. One small diversion of his eyes toward the receiver on the opposite side of where I am lets me know exactly who his main target is.
The ball is snapped, and he rolls back. I hold off for just one second before heading toward the hole in their line that gives me a straight shot at him from behind. He never sees me coming as I wrap my arms around his torso, pulling him on top of me to avoid another penalty. I wish Bella was here to watch me, but she’s stuck in New York for rehearsals. I feel like I’ve barely seen her this week, and when I have, it’s been for planned publicappearances. I haven’t been inside her since last weekend and it has me wound up tight.
I miss her.
The next two downs result in no gain, giving our offense the ball back. At this point, we’re just trying to keep the clock running and move enough to keep the ball in our possession. The guys are like a well-oiled machine with Tanner Lake under center. He’s a mysterious fucker, but I wouldn’t want anyone else leading our team. With Beckham and Davis out there with him, they’re unstoppable.
The game ends with us beating Pittsburgh thirty to twenty-seven. And I’m headed to my first Super Bowl.
I can’t wait to get home and celebrate with the girl who is quickly becoming the best part of my days.
BELLA
“Thanks, Carlo,” I say as he opens the car door outside Maverick’s building. I make my way through the revolving door, heading straight toward the elevator with my overnight bag slung over my shoulder. He just texted saying his plane just landed and he’s trying to get home as fast as he can. I told him my flight from New York is running behind, but that was a lie. In fact, I made it so all my halftime show rehearsals were done early today, so I could be waiting for Mav when he arrived.
“Hey, Charlie!” I say to the elevator attendant. “How are Trish and the pups?”
“There’s my favorite superstar!” he replies. “They’re doing great. Max and Walter loved the homemade treats you sent. Gobbled them right up!” I’ve been spending a lot of time here with Maverick and have gotten to know the staff pretty well. Assoon as Charlie showed me a photo of his wife holding their two French Bulldogs, I made an order for ingredients to make treats for them. Mav didn’t know what to say when he found me in the kitchen with flour everywhere. But when I explained to him that I was never able to have a dog of my own because of my busy schedule, he stepped in and helped me make little Christmas packages for Charlie’s fur babies. Lucky for me, the evening ended with me bent over in the shower as Maverick made sure every inch of my body was clean…and satisfied.
I step off the elevator into the dark, quiet apartment and head straight to the bedroom. I don’t know how much time I have to prepare, so I shimmy out of my sweatpants and pull my shirt over my head. I reach into my bag and pull out the lingerie I picked out especially for tonight.
I step into the all-white lace bodysuit and pull the thin straps over my shoulders. The entire thing is completely sheer, my rosy nipples visible through the cups of the bodice. Ice blue garter straps hang from the bottom, where I attach my white fishnet thigh highs.
I throw my discarded clothes back into my bag and toss it into the corner of Maverick’s bedroom. My nerves are on high alert as I think about him coming home to find me ready for him, wearing lingerie in his team’s colors. I look at my reflection in the full-length mirror and can barely believe that I’m seeing the same girl that walked into this apartment two months ago. I was shy and inexperienced. I’ll never forget the way my body shook as Maverick kissed me for the first time. While I still lack some of the confidence I long to have, he’s made me feel like a sexy, powerful woman who deserves to feel good.
I trail my fingertips down my body, starting at my throat and coasting my hands lightly to my breasts. I keep my touch featherlight as I circle my nipples with the pads of my fingers and let out a harsh exhale when the tight buds begin to hardenunder them. I keep my left hand where it is, sliding my right one down my torso slowly, until I’m brushing over my already sensitive center. The barely-there contact has me letting out a quiet moan.
“Fuck,”a deep voice whispers from behind me. I stiffen, meeting Maverick’s eyes in the mirror. I didn’t even hear him come in. And I have no idea how long he’s been standing there.
I go to turn toward him, but I pause when he speaks again. “Keep going,” he says, eyes still boring into mine through the mirror. He steps in the room, sitting down in the plush chair in the corner. He looks like a king on his throne, legs spread wide as he watches me intently. “Rub your clit, Bella.”
I return my hand to my apex, using my middle finger to make soft circles over the lace. My mouth drops open as I add more pressure, pleasure building in my stomach as I do. I look back to Maverick, who is palming his cock over his dress pants as he watches me. A wave of confidence floods over me as I continue making myself feel good.
“Pull it to the side,” he orders, his voice full of gravel. “Push a finger inside your cunt for me, baby.” I don’t hesitate as I do what he says, pulling the gusset of my bodysuit to one side before sinking a finger inside my soaked pussy. I slowly pump in and out, my eyes never leaving Maverick as he unzips his pants and pulls out his beautiful cock. He spits in his hand as he strokes himself while watching me.
I turn, leaning to rest my back on the cold glass of the mirror, opening my legs more so he can see as I plunge two fingers inside my dripping heat. “Maverick, it feels so good,” I moan as I throw my head back in pleasure. I continue fucking myself, my orgasm building quickly as my palm bumps against my swollen clit.
“That’s it, Songbird. Finger fuck yourself for me. Come on your hand so I can lick it clean,” he chokes out, stroking himselfslow enough that he isn’t getting what he needs. “Do a good job, baby. I’d hate to split you in two when I feed this cock into your tight pussy.” I whimper at the thought of him stretching me.
Trying to prep myself for him, I add a third finger, but they don’t feel like his. I can’t reach the same spots he does. “Maverick, please,” I beg. “I can’t get there.”
