Page 22 of Mr. Irrelevant
My head jerks back, my gaze narrowing, because now all kinds of dirty ideas are running rampant in my mind. But those will have to wait. “We’ll circle back to that,” I say, trying to keep the warmth I’m feeling all over from pinkening my cheeks…or any other part of me since I’m butt naked. “What deal?”
He sits up, settling his back against the headboard. His still-hard cock bobs with the movement, catching my attention as my eyes fall to it like a magnet for just a split second. My mouth waters uncontrollably with the need to taste him everywhere. I’m grateful that my hangover is no more than a small headache right now, which would probably fade into nothing if I had some endorphins flowing through me. Some people thinkthat having another drink is the best way to combat the aftereffects of too much fun—but I’ll take a morning quickie over that any day.
“You promised to show me your kinky checklist, but you were dead to the world by the time I pulled into the driveway. You’re wide awake now, Dimes. So, pay up.”
With his words, our entire conversation from last night begins to replay in my mind, the details becoming clearer with every second that passes. Me, telling him how the list came about and downplaying it like it isn’t the main reason I’ve called off my search for a serious boyfriend. Him, teasing me until I caved and agreed to give him a peek when we got back to his place. I planned on allowing him a quick glance, hoping that he’d only see the first few items before I took it away.
Some of it is on the tamer side—my ex and I just weren’t as sexually compatible as I hoped we’d be once we got more comfortable with each other. I respected his boundaries, but that didn’t mean my desires changed, which is why I decided my next relationship would serve me just as much as my partner. The end of the list, though? Those things might surprise him—while simultaneously embarrassing the hell out of me.
“Absolutely not,” I reply, pointing a finger in his direction. “I was drunk. All deals made while under the influence are null and void. That list was a way to make myself feel better after Deacon and I broke up, but Sydney just refuses to let it go. None of it matters, and I’m taking it to the grave.”
He huffs a breath, settling back into the pillows, looking like the dirtiest dream anyone’s ever seen. “We’ll put a pin in it for the time being,” he says with a cocky grin. “Now, get the fuck over here.” I roll my eyes, holding back a smile as I crawl across the mattress. As soon as I’m within his reach, he yanks me on top of him, a loud squeal dying on my lips as he presses his mouth to mine. I moan into the kiss, getting lost in the sparks that zip along my body and gather in my core as he hardens against me.
“I was dying to do this all night,” he murmurs. “But I couldn’t while you were drunk. I need you to remember every touch, Liv. Every kiss. That way, you’ll never forget me.”
Bringing my hands to his cheeks, I shake my head, my lips still pressed against his so he can fully experience my words. I don’t just want him to hear them. I want him to taste them—to feel their weight as they vibrate along his skin. “I won’t.”
This may only be a temporary arrangement, but I know I’ll never forget this time with him. From the first midnight meetup to wherever we end, memories of Maddox Dane will be etched into the very fiber of my being. I wish I could know for certain that recalling them years down the road won’t leave me feeling like I’m missing a piece of myself—but that’s the last thing I want to think about while he’s right here under me. I have no idea what the future holds for us, but I’d much rather soak up every moment we have before reality comes knocking and he’s gone for good.
TWENTY-ONE
LIVVY
“What the hellis with you tonight?” I ask Maddox after he drops the third snap in a row. We’ve been doing passing drills for the last forty-five minutes, but his focus is off, and his accuracy is absolute trash. I turn toward him, trying to keep my expression soft so we can work through whatever it is that’s distracting him. “Talk to me, Mad Dog.”
“It’s nothing,” he huffs, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m fine. Let’s go again.” He reaches out to take the ball from my hands, but I pull it away, placing a palm on his chest to hold him off.
“You’ve been weird since we got here, and you were absent-minded yesterday. If you don’t tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, I’m going home. We could be sleeping right now, but we’re wasting time fumbling footballs instead.”
He throws his head back, clearly annoyed with himself as a long, harsh breath whooshes from his lungs. He’s silent for several seconds, staring at themidnight sky as if it has all the answers he needs, before lowering his gaze to mine. His deep gray eyes are full of frustration, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
“It’s your list, okay?” he groans. “It’s been two days, and I can’t stop thinking about it. I realize how dumb it is to obsess over something that’s literally none of my business, but I just know I could give you everything you’ve been missing, Liv. All you have to do is trust me.”
My chin drops, my lips pressing into a thin line as I prop a hand on my hip. “Maddox Dane,” I scold. “Are you seriously telling me that you’re out here playing like a flaming bag of dog shit because you’re thinking about the things my ex didn’t do for me?”
His hand shoots up to his chest, massaging as though he’s been wounded. “Ouch, Dimes. I haven’t beenthatbad.” I narrow my eyes, becauseyes, he has. “But yeah, that’s why I’m struggling to focus. Go ahead and tear my ass up. Tell me I should be worried more about keeping my head in the game, and less about putting it between your legs.” He shoves a flustered hand through his hair, waiting to be reprimanded. I tuck my lips between my teeth to hide the smile that’s threatening to break free at how cute he is. The man just wants to know how to please me, and it’s got him so thrown off that he can’t even concentrate. If showing him my list will get his focus back where it belongs, I’ll give him a peek, no matter how mortifying it’ll be.
“I’ll tell you what,” I say, catching his attention as his gaze returns to mine. “Give me five drills in a row. No fumbles, perfect footwork, and flawless accuracy. Ifyou can do that, you get two seconds. If you’re not a speed reader, that’s not my problem.” His eyes light up with excitement, a shit-eating grin stretching from ear to ear. I shake my head, pretending to be annoyed as he darts a hand out, making me squeal in surprise as he pulls me into his arms.
“Fuck yeah, baby!” he shouts, lifting me off the ground and peppering sloppy kisses all over my face and neck. I giggle uncontrollably, wiggling and kicking my feet in protest until he finally puts me down, pressing his lips to mine chastely. Gripping my waist, he spins me abruptly, a harsh breath whooshing from my lungs as he pushes between my shoulder blades and forces me into a four-point stance. Before I’m even settled, the back of his hand is brushing against my inner thigh, my head spinning like it always does as he calls out his cadence.
“Set! Hut, hut, hut!”
I snap him the ball, and he rolls back, his footwork absolutely pristine as he fires the ball toward the net, hitting it dead-on. A crisp swooshing sound breaks through the air, but before I can even register what just happened, another ball is being pushed against my chest.
“You’re ridiculous,” I huff. But he just smiles back, waving his hand between us, as if to sayhurry up. In an attempt to piss him off just a little, I take my time, lowering back down for the next one. It goes the same as the first, and he continues nailing each target until all five footballs are resting at the bottom of the nets we set up in the end zone. He looks down at me with abig, bright smile as he holds a grabby hand out between us.
“Let’s go, Liv,” he beams. “I’ve waited long enough.”
I swallow, anxiety flowing through me and heating my body from the inside out. But I made a deal with him—a sober one, this time—and I refuse to back out. “Two seconds,” I remind him sternly. “And no judging. Don’t yuck my yum.”
He lowers his chin, an indignant brow rising over one eye. “You really think I’d do that? I’m pretty sure I’ve proven that I’m a kinky motherfucker, Dimes. I’m just trying to find out if I can make this list of yours a little shorter.”
My core clenches at the thought. As embarrassing as it might be, maybe he’ll see one or two things that pique his interest as much as they do mine. Of course, he’ll probably notice the items that have already been checked off, thanks to him. I know he’s not my boyfriend, but he’s still my current exclusive partner…and he’s still inadvertently giving me experiences I’ve wanted to have. So, yeah, I’ve been keeping a record.
“Okay,” I say, throwing caution to the wind. “Are you ready?”
“I was born ready, baby. Lay it on me.” He locks in on my hand as it dips into the pocket of my hoodie, ready to soak in as much information as he can in the short amount of time I’ve given him. I roll my eyes, pull up my notes app, and take a deep breath before flipping the device around for him to see. My heart pounds wildly inside my chest as his eyes bounce around thescreen frantically. He reaches out to scroll, but before he can, I yank my phone away, locking it as fast as I can.
