Page 20 of The Stunt
“You can,” he replies. “And you will. I’m not fucking you until you make yourself come.” I whine again, hoping he’ll cave and give me what I want, but he doesn’t. He just continues watching me, lazily stroking himself. His dick looks painfully hard, but he’s just grazing over it with his hand.
“Come here,” he says. I remove my fingers from my body and walk toward him, barely able to stay upright. He pulls his pants and boxers down his legs, kicking them to the side. “Straddle me, but don’t lower down,” he instructs. I obey, swinging one leg up onto the chair before settling the other one on the other side of his hips. I’m up on my knees, the head of his cock just inches from where I ache for him. “One finger. Reach around and go in from behind,” he commands. I put one arm behind my back, moving my bodysuit aside and arching to get the right angle before sinking my middle finger back inside. I’m soaked, dripping into my hand as I begin pumping in and out.
Maverick uses one hand to grip my hip, holding me up while the other strokes his cock. Just as I start to get frustrated again, he pulls on himself at the perfect angle, making his tip rub against my clit. I moan at the contact, feeling my pussy tighten around my finger.
“There she is,” he whispers, watching as he continues using his cock to stimulate my swollen bundle of nerves. My hips begin to rock on their own accord as I move my finger deeper, finally able to reach my g-spot. Between that and the little bit of contact Maverick is allowing me, I feel my orgasm start to pull low in mybelly. My breathing becomes labored, and it isn’t long before I finally feel myself heading toward the summit. I’m right there.
“Good girl, Bella. Come for me and I’ll fuck you,” he says. And that’s all I need as I shatter above him. My hips buck and my thighs burn as I ride out my orgasm. Before I’m even fully finished, he yanks my arm away and pulls tightly on the fabric between my legs, ripping it completely at the seams before slamming into me. I see stars as he takes my hand, the one that is still coated in my cum, and sucks my fingers into his mouth.
“Oh, fuck!” I scream. I’m not sure what to focus on. The overstimulation as he fucks into me, the way he swirls his tongue around my fingers, or the sting of him stretching me. But even with all of those sensations battling each other, I continue bouncing up and down until pleasure is the only thing I feel.
“That’s it,” he praises. “Ride my cock. You feel so fucking good.” Our heavy breaths and the sounds of our bodies crashing together fill the dark room as we fuck like wild animals. He digs both hands into my hips, lifting me up then dropping me back down, over and over.
I feel the pressure begin to build again as he uses my body for his pleasure. “Oh my God, Mav, baby—” I whine. “I think I’m going to come.”
He reaches around the back of my neck, pulling me toward him and crushing our mouths together. As soon as he forces his tongue past my lips, I detonate, shaking as I have the hardest orgasm of my life. “Fuck, Bella,” he growls against my lips. “You’re strangling me. I can’t hold it anymore.” I’m barely coherent as he thrusts up one last time, pumping his hot load into me with a groan.
Neither of us move as he begins to soften inside me. As I lean forward to rest my head on his shoulder, he presses a tender kiss to my temple. I don’t know how he’s feeling, but none of this is fake to me anymore. If I’m honest, it never really was. From themoment I met Maverick, I knew he was different than everyone else in my life. He taught me that I deserve the things I want, and he’s helped me find the confidence to take them.
I’m in love with him.
I’ve been struggling to push the feelings away for weeks now, but they just keep getting stronger every time I’m without him. The nights when I’m alone in bed, in my empty penthouse…those are the moments when I feel his absence. And all I want is to get back to him as fast as I can. Then, when I’m with him, I dread having to go back home. But what if it reallyisfake to him? What if he’s just enjoying this thing until after Super Bowl, then he plans on moving on with his life when Twyla announces our breakup?
I can’t think about any of it. I just want him to feel the things I feel. The butterflies I get in my stomach when I’m on my way to him. And the emptiness I feel when I leave. The one great thing about never having a boyfriend is that I’ve never had to endure a heartbreak. And I know Maverick would be worth the pain. I just hope that when I tell him he already holds my heart, he wants to keep it safe.
TWELVE
BELLA
Super Bowl Sunday
“How does it feel?”Edison, my sound technician asks as he double-checks my in-ear monitor.
“It’s good. Fits better than the last one,” I say, shaking my head to ensure that it’s a tight fit. I stand still as he wraps the small wire around the back of my head and tucks the receiver into the pocket on the back of my costume.
The second quarter just started, and the Blizzard are up by two touchdowns. I haven’t been able to watch it live at all because I’m sequestered in a large room while we prepare for the halftime show. I haven’t been allowed to leave since Mav dropped me off this morning when we arrived at the stadium. I’m fully dressed, equipment has been tested, and I’m about to do my vocal warmups. I’m nervous, but I don’t think it has as much to do with my performance as it does with how badly I want the Blizzard to win this game.
I woke up this morning in an empty bed, the sound of Maverick’s retching coming from the bathroom. I rubbed his back as he vomited, sitting there on the floor as he explained tome that he always throws up before big games. He was a bundle of nerves all morning, only putting on a confident expression when we arrived at the stadium, walking hand-in-hand as paparazzi snapped photos and yelled questions at us.
“Bella, what songs can we expect to hear at halftime?”
“Maverick, will you be able to get through Dallas’ offensive line today?”
“Are you guys in love?”
I’d love to know the answer to that last one, myself. If you’re askingme,the answer is yes. I’ve known for weeks now that I’m head-over-heels for him. And I know he likes me, but he’s given me no indication of how deeply his feelings run. I’ve been too afraid to tell him where I’m at, and way too scared to ask him about his own.
“You ready?” Sammi asks from beside me. “Have you stretched?”
I nod my head. “I’ve done it twice.” It’s a pretty action-packed performance, even more so than my normal ones, so I’m trying to stay warm for it.
“Good idea,” she says. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I’m really proud of you. A couple months ago, you were passive and let everyone walk all over you. But you’ve changed. You’ve made suggestions these last few weeks during rehearsal that have made this show even better than I could’ve hoped. Whatever it is that’s giving you this new-found confidence, keep it around. Or keephimaround.” She winks before walking toward the group of dancers on the other side of the room.
When I told Maverick about my ideas for the performance, he told me they werebadassand encouraged me to tell Sammi we were making them happen. I went to rehearsal that day so hyped up, that her saying no was never even an option. Iwould’ve never been able to do it without him. He’s made me better since I met him.
The door opens and a man with a headset pops his head in. “We’re almost at the two-minute warning,” he says. “We need you guys stage-ready in five minutes.” He leaves as quickly as he came and I head to the corner, sitting at the piano to do my vocal warmups.
While I go through the exercises, I look up at the muted television on the wall in front of me. I’ve been sneaking glances since I got in here, trying to watch Maverick as he plays. The offense is on the field, but they make a stop as the clock hits the two-minute mark in the half. As the broadcast gets ready to cut to a commercial, the camera pans in on the guy I’m looking for as he puts his arms up victoriously. Fuck, he’s so hot. Just seeing him and knowing he’s mine, even if it’s just for show, gives me the determination to hit that stage and give the performance of my life.
