Page 68 of Face Off
“There are other ways to shut me up, but here we are. Still against a wall when I could be choking on your cock.”
He grins, andgosh, it’s a devastating thing.
Maverick walks us to the bed and drops me on the mattress. From the way his tongue sneaks out of his mouth as he watches me, I know he’s going to be thorough when he finally touches me.
He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. I can’t help but study the lines of his body when he’s bare-chested. The artwork on his arm and the dark hair trailing down his torso. The deep cut of muscles across his stomach, and how his silver necklace sparkles under the lamplight.
My throat goes dry.
Maverick Miller is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
“You’re staring,” he says, and there’s pride in his tone.
My eyes snap up to meet his. “I am not.”
“It’s okay to think I’m hot, Hartwell. You can tell me about it when I’m on top of you.”
“I don’t think you’re hot.”
“Liar.” He runs a hand up my calf. His fingers reach the hem of my shorts, and he gives them a gentle tug. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“You. I’ve never gotten to see so much of you.”
I pull off my shirt and throw it with his. “So why aren’t you looking at me?”
“Because you didn’t tell me I could look.” His thumbs hook in the waistband of his sweatpants, and he works them down his thighs. “Until you do, I’m just going to stare at your pretty face.”
I don’t know what I thought sex with Maverick would be like, but it’s notthis.
Him talking about consent when I’m half naked in front of him. His erection pressing against his briefs and my hand dangerously close to slipping into my underwear.
“You think I’m pretty?” I ask, taking a line from his playbook.
“Nah.” He breaks into another grin, and there’s a pang in the center of my chest. Between my legs, too. “I think you’re fucking gorgeous.”
“You can look at me,” I say, and he steps closer. “If you want.”
“I want. More than I’ve ever wanted anything else,” Maverick says, rough and low, and I believe him.
His eyes move away from my face. They drop to my chest and he lets out a noise that sounds like a mix between a moan and a whine. The hand at his side flexes before he adjusts himself over the outside of his briefs.
He licks his lips again, a man starved. “Take off your shorts.”
I wiggle out of the flimsy pajama bottoms and kick them away, leaving me in a pair of lacy purple underwear. My toes scrunch against the sheets, and I’m itching to touch him.
Maverick brushes his knuckles against the inside of my thigh, then curls his fingers around my ankles. He tugs me toward the edge of the bed, and I sit up.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“You said you wanted me on my knees.” He drops a kiss to my shin, then kneels on the ground in front of me. “And I’ve always liked being a good boy.”
TWENTY
MAVERICK
I didn’t planfor this to happen when I knocked on her door.
