Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

93. Maddox

NINETY-THREE

I push away from the side of the building.

Hannah just climbed out of the back seat of an Uber, and she looks so fucking fuckable I have to shove my hand in my pocket and pinch my thigh so I don’t pop a boner.

Her heels click against the sidewalk as she walks toward me, and the setting sun bathes her in a golden glow.

Her hair is down, curled into waves, and I want to look at her beautiful face, but my eyes are too focused everywhere else.

I don’t know what material her top is made of, but it looks soft. The neckline plunges between her glorious breasts, and the hem is tucked into fitted navy pants that hug her all the way down to her ankles.

I smooth my hands down my black Henley, feeling suddenly underdressed in my jeans.

She has a large purse hanging from one hand, so she lifts the other and wiggles her fingers at me.

I stride toward her.

“Little Bunny,” I growl, wanting nothing more than to eat her up.

Wanting to touch her.

I’m one step away when I remember we’re not at work.

I can touch her.

I don’t have to hold back.

When she’s within reaching distance, I grip her hip with one hand and slide the other around the side of her neck until my fingers are buried in the hair at the back of her head. And I kiss her.

I kiss my girl.

My lips on hers.

My mouth moving against hers.

My tongue pushing between her lips. Her opening to me.

God, I needed this.

Hands flatten against my chest, and her fingers curl, digging her nails into my muscles.

She moans into me.

And I feel my cock start to harden.

“Fuck, Babe,” I breathe against her mouth. “We gotta stop.”

Her lips curl into a smile against mine. “You started it.”

“Hmm. We could finish in my car,” I offer.

She pushes against me with her palms, and I finally take a step back.

“Maddox Lovelace, you told me you were taking me to dinner.” She straightens her shirt. “And I didn’t go through all the stress of getting ready to meet your best friend and brother just for you to change the plan.”

I brush my thumb across her cheek. “Don’t be nervous. They’re gonna love you.”

As much as I do. I think it but don’t say it.

I want to tell her. But I just have a few more things to do first.

“Let’s go.” I hold my hand out for her to take. “I sent Max in already to get our table.”

Hannah slides her hand into mine, and I walk us toward the restaurant’s entrance.

It’s a nice place, great food, moody atmosphere, and hipster enough that even if the clientele recognized me or Waller, or potentially Max, they’d be too cool to approach us. The restaurant has just the right level of douchebag vibes for us to be left alone.

Keeping my hold of Hannah’s hand, I pull open the door and guide her in before me. There’s a second door, and we have to shift around for me to open it again, but I can feel the nerves radiating off my girl, and I’m not letting her go.

“Good evening.” The hostess greets us.

“Hello.” Hannah’s voice is a little more timid than I’m used to hearing, so I squeeze her hand.

“We’re meeting—” I start, then spot Max. “I see our table.”

“Go right ahead.” The hostess smiles, and we step past.

My brother has been spending his summer down in Arizona but flew back for a visit.

I would have invited my parents along, let everyone meet Hannah at the same time, but they’re at some friend’s birthday tonight. So it’s just us, my little brother and Waller.

Hannah peeks out from behind me to look at the table we’re approaching. “I thought you said two people?” she whispers.

I stop at the table, replying loud enough for the guys to hear. “I did say we were meeting two people.”