Page 158 of Face Off
“Better now that you’re here.” He kisses my forehead and smiles. “You really did go to a cooking class with Hudson, didn’t you? Did you have a good time? Where are my leftovers?”
“There weren’t any leftovers to bring, but I thought I could give you something else to eat.” I pull at the tie of my trench coat, the fabric opening and showing off the lingerie I have underneath. “If you’re hungry.”
Maverick takes a step back, looks me up and down, and groans. “Christ, baby. You’re a fucking vision.”
I shrug out of the jacket and it pools at my feet. I ordered a sexy red set the other night when I was at Lexi’s. The girls told me Maverick would go crazy if he saw me in the outfit, and from the way his eyes are blown wide and his cheeks are turning pink, I’d say they were right.
“Do you like it?” I ask, toying with the straps.
“Yes,” he rasps. “Please don’t tell me you wore that when you went to your cooking class.”
“I did. Under my other clothes, so it was my little secret.” I pause and arch my back off the wall. “Maybe I’ll start wearing it to the rink too. A special blue set that matches our jerseys.”
He scoops me up, lifting me off the ground and marching down the hall to his bedroom.
“I’m going to have to come into your locker room before every practice,” he says in my ear, and he kisses my throat. “Just to see what surprises you’re hiding.”
“It’s sweet of you to call my storage closet a locker room.” I reach down and cup his length through the front of his athletic shorts. He’s hard already, and I smile when he shudders under my touch. “And it’s funny you think I’m going to let you in there.”
“Why? Don’t want me to see all the pictures you have of me taped up on your wall?”
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“What if I beg?” Maverick bends his head and grazes his teeth down my neck. “What if I beg like a good boy, Emmy?”
“Maybe,” I breathe out. “That could persuade me.”
His laugh is beautiful, and he kicks open the door to his room. He drops me on the edge of his bed and stares at me, his mouth half-open and his hands flexing at his sides.
“You’re beautiful,” he says. “I can’t believe I get to have you. I can’t believe you’re mine.”
When we’re together, it’s an inferno. Hot, quick, a race to see who can get the other off first. Sometimes we barely make it into the bedroom, choosing a counter or a wall or a chair instead.
Now, though, it’s different. It’s slower, like Maverick is trying to savor me. Trying to preserve it in his memory. And when he drops to his knees in front of me and nudges my legs open, a gasp works its way free from my chest.
I love watching him when he looks like this. Raw and needy. Glazed eyes and his chest rising and falling so quickly, you’d think he sprinted here.
“Have me,” I whisper, and his gaze flashes with heat.
Love me, I want to say too, but I keep that to myself. I swallow it down, because when Maverick leans forward, kisses the inside of my knee, I almost forget my name.
“How wet are you?” he asks, and his mouth presses against the front of my underwear. “Soaked, I bet.”
I hook a leg over his shoulder, and his grin is smug. “Find out for yourself.”
“You’re so pretty like this, though. I don’t want to take this off you.”
“Then fuck me in it.” My fingers curl around his comforter, and I squirm, desperate for him. “I don’t care what you do, just dosomething.”
“Now who’s begging?” Maverick hooks his thumb in my underwear and pulls it to the side. He hums, and I drop my head back. “Fucking look at you.”
“Less looking. More doing, Miller.”
“Yes ma’am.” One finger presses inside me, and I groan. “There you go, baby. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I whisper, grinding into his hand. I roll my hips, searching for what I want, and he rewards me with a second and third finger without me having to ask. “Maverick.”
“The way you say my name drives me fucking wild.” His left hand folds around my leg, keeping me in place. I feel him crowd my space, the bump of his shoulder against my knee and the soft cotton of his shirt against my stomach. “This is my meal, isn’t it? I’ve been a very good boy, Emmy. I’ve earned a taste, haven’t I?”
