Page 46 of Maverick
I feel a little bit guilty thinking about that. But then, I’ve felt guilty. Because about the time my fantasies shifted from wishingthat I could be with Sadie again, to wanting to rail Stella Lane, things got a lot more complicated for me.
But here I am. Complicated.
Yeah. It’s all complicated.
It’s too easy to imagine being with her again. Too easy to imagine going down the hall and pulling her into my arms. Stripping her out of those ridiculous pajamas.
I’m sure that I hear the bathroom door open. And then footsteps. I turn and look through the glass door. I see the shape of her. No way.
That girl…
I’m about to tell her to go away. I’m about to tell her she has no boundaries even as my cock gets hard, but then the door to the shower opens, and she’s there. Naked, holding a condom.
“Maverick–”
I don’t say anything. I can’t think. I can’t speak. I wrap my arm around her waist and I pull her into the shower. I claim her, kiss her. Consume her. I’m so desperate for her it’s like I didn’t have her just a couple of hours ago. I’m so desperate for her it’s like I haven’t had sex in years.
But I guess outside of this, I haven’t. The drive that I felt to take her in the first place was beyond me. It was something entirely out of body. Something that I couldn’t control. I don’t want to control it now. All I want is her.
I push her up against the shower wall, feel her water-slick skin, her softness. Her curves. I cup her breast, angle my head so that I kiss her deep as I move my other hand down to her hip, then push my hand between her legs, feeling her to see if she’s wet for me.
She is. Of course, she is; she’s the one who came in here with the condom. I didn’t expect it.
But then, I didn’t expect her. I didn’t expect her to have a hunger that matched mine.
It seems impossible, improbable, and more than amazing.
A miracle that I damn sure don’t deserve.
I’m giving in to something dangerous here. But I don’t have the strength to turn away. Not now. So I kiss her, harder. Put that sweet body right up against the wall and move my hands over her curves. She’s whimpering, arching against me. It’s the hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.
The drive that I feel is insatiable. It’s beyond explanation. Beyond anything. I need to be inside of her. That desire drowns everything else out.
I grab the condom out of her hand, tear it open, roll it over my cock.
I need it. I might even say that. That I need to be in her. That I need to fuck her. Need to have her.
All while I kiss her, grab her thigh, and drape it up over my hip, thrust into that tight, wet heat as I have her over and over again.
As I take us both to the edge, again and again.
She’s whimpering, rolling her hips against mine. I reach between us, and I move my thumb over that sweet clit. She cries out my name, her internal muscles clamping down hard on my dick. I pound my fist against the wall by her head, try to hold back. Try to keep this going as long as I can. It’s been so fucking long. So long since I’ve known the touch of a woman. Since I’ve been close to someone. And now there’s her. Now there she is, in all her glory. Toned, athletic, beautiful. Stella.
Brave, impulsive, ridiculous. How much of it is that she is twenty-four, and how much of it is that she is determined? An enigma. Different from anyone that I’ve ever known. I can’t be sure of the answer to that question.
I only know that she’s put some kind of spell on me, and I don’t even want it to go away.
Because what I want is her. Her body. Her mouth.
I drive myself into her, over and over again. I lose myself. It’s the most blissful feeling I’ve had in five God damned years. To just lose track of myself for a second. To lose everything except what it feels like to be in her.
Then she says my name, and I lose it completely. It brings me back to the moment, but the moment doesn’t suck. I come on a roar, my voice bouncing off the shower walls.
I step back from her, leaning back against the wall across from her. “Fuck,” I say.
“Sorry. I guess you wanted to be alone.”
“I don’t know what I want,” I say.
