Chapter 23 – Clay
The next time I wake, Maggie is still asleep, tucked snugly into the crook of my arm.
Her brown curls are plastered to her face and her long lashes cascade down and over her high cheekbones.
She's even more beautiful in the daylight and I can't help but want her like this every night and every morning, right here in my bed, properly fucked and sleeping soundly.
I carefully slide out of the bed, trying not to disturb her, and pad quietly to the kitchen. It’s my turn to make her breakfast.
Bacon, eggs, and toast sizzle together on the stove, the delicious aroma filling the air as I replay the unexpected events from last night.
A few minutes later, I feel her presence before I hear her, sensing her standing behind me, silently watching.
Deciding to give her a show, I start dancing like she did last month when she made me breakfast, except this time, I’m completely naked.
I wiggle my hips and spin, humming the same old NSYNC tune she teased me with.
A soft giggle escapes her, and I spin around, catching her eye with a wink while I plate the food. She blushes and shoots me a smile. She's pulled on my button-up shirt from last night, and she’s breathtaking in it.
“Come here,” I crook a finger, setting the two plates on the countertop.
She steps toward me, and I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close.
I kiss her soft lips, feeling her melt against me with a soft sigh so effortlessly.
She's so damn easy to love. My hands slip under the hem of the shirt, sliding over the smooth skin of her bare backside.
Completely naked beneath, just as I imagined.
A groan escapes me as I break the kiss, pulling back just enough to admire her flushed face. “Are you hungry, Maggie?”
She nods. “I think I burnt more calories last night than I do during my heavy lifting days. I’m famished.”
I press into her hips, lifting her easily and perching her on the edge of the counter before I bunch up the hem of my shirt around her waist.
“Me too,” I respond, licking my lips as I take in the sight of her bare pussy on my counter.
“Clay!” she swats at my arm, but I have no restraint this morning. Months of refusing myself pleasure has caught up to me in one beautiful explosion of a singular mindset - all I can see and think about is her.
All I want is her.
I drop to my knees, head dipping between her thighs, tongue licking one flat line across her opening before turning my gaze back up to her.
There isn't an ounce of resistance inside of her. She’s dripping all over my countertop and I imagine the wet spot that’ll be there when I finish her off in just a few minutes.
Because I know her now and that’s all it takes for Maggie.
She makes no moves to stop me, her eyes hooded with longing as she watches.
“You eat,” I point towards the plate to her right, “While I eat,” I nod between her legs.
She laughs, her left-hand moves to grip my hair and steady herself while her right swipes a piece of bacon from the plate and presses it to her lips.
I dive in.
Truly, I could eat this pussy every morning for breakfast. Nothing but Maggie and coffee would sustain me.
She tastes so good, and I revel in the fact that she wakes up this soaked next to me, smelling like my scent and ready to be eaten.
I feel like a wild animal that wants to rub my scent all over and piss on her so that no one else will ever look her way again.
I rub my nose into her clit before switching to my lips and then grazing it with my teeth. My tongue works and a hum radiates from deep inside my throat as I taste her.
“Did you know gorillas hum songs when they eat?”
She laughs as she chews, “Are you comparing yourself to a gorilla right now?”
I hum harder against her clit, eliciting a gasp.
“And they sing songs when it’s their favorite food.”
I clear my throat dramatically, then burst into an enthusiastic rendition of the NSYNC song I’d been humming while making her breakfast, my voice vibrates against her opening as if it's a microphone.
She cackles, folding her body over my head as she swipes at tears in her eyes. “You’re a nut, Clay.”
I smile before pulling away and pointing at the glass of ice water positioned beside her. “Give me a sip of that, please.”
She brings the glass to my lips gently and I suck, drawing out an ice cube and rolling it between my tongue, cooling my mouth. She watches as I hold it between my teeth and tongue, drop back between her legs and this time, roll it over her opening and across her clit.
She squirms and squeals, shifting slightly on the counter as she does her best to hold on. I pause, spiking my tongue inside of her again before drawing the cube back out and over her clit. Her fingers dig into my neck as she drapes her body over me.
“Clay…” she moans, and then I feel it, that sweet tightening and release in her body as she cries out my name in breathy sighs and falls apart so beautifully in my arms.
A few minutes later, I’ve cleaned her up and slid my shirt back in place over her body so that I’m not tempted to take her again.
I feel like a virgin. Even the sight of her dainty, bare ankles cause me to harden.
I carry her to my kitchen table, and we’re now seated opposite each other, a safe enough distance that I can't reach out and touch her the way I really want to. We’re laughing, caught up in effortless conversation about her time working with McKenna at the hospital and her post-graduation plans this winter.
I fill her in on the tournament I’ve signed up for at the end of July.
“So, you’re almost ranked in first place. What does that mean for the tournament?”
“First means I get better fighters, better chance of winning the whole thing.”
She chews thoughtfully on a piece of bacon. “You’re going to win it regardless of what ranking you have going into it.”
I smile, feeling that familiar pang in my chest—something new, something I hadn’t realized I was missing until now. The warmth of having someone who believes in me, someone who supports what I love doing, for once.
It’s strange, but in the best way possible.
A stark contrast to how it felt with Savannah, who had asked me to stop fighting, afraid I’d get hurt and embarrassed by the longing to do something more.
I’d embraced her hobbies as she’d come up with them and I understood the difference in how dangerous mine were, but life is full of risks.
With Maggie, it feels different. She trusts me enough to believe I’ll know when to quit, when to pull back. The truth is, maybe she shouldn’t.
Because I’m not even sure I know when to quit.
“Thanks for having my back,” I say, my voice softer.
“You and Dallas are probably the only ones who would ever support me in this. If my brothers found out…” I shake my head, chuckling.
“They're always on my case about coming around more and working at the ranch. Honestly, I think they’re already suspicious about where I’ve been disappearing to most nights and what I’ve been doing with Dallas every morning.
The other day, Wylie showed up at Dallas’ farm at five in the morning while we were training. Nearly caught me throwing some blows.”
Just as I’m about to go on, her phone vibrates on the table next to us.
The name flashing on the screen—her dad’s—snaps me back to reality.
It’s a reminder that, despite how easy things feel between us, life is always there, waiting in the wings outside of the safety of my apartment and what was started last night.
“Should you answer that?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “My dad worries… incessantly about me. Even when I was away at school, he’d still call me almost every day to check in. It’s sweet and I love him so much, but it can be stifling at times.”
I raise a brow, “What’s he so worried about?”
She chews her lip nervously as if she’s trying to think about how to explain this to me. “He’s mostly worried about me being alone.”
I set my fork down on my plate and raise a brow, “What do you mean ′being alone?′”
She waves a hand in the air trying to dismiss it. “Like, when he dies someday. I don’t have any siblings… him and my mom were also only children, so I don’t have any aunts or uncles. His parents are gone… he’s worried I’ll be alone when he leaves this earth.”
Chief Hollister was in his late forties and in excellent shape according to my assessment—something that shouldn’t be crossing his mind, but knowing he’d lost Maggie’s mom so young; it makes sense that he’d be hyper-aware of his health. Maybe that’s where his concern for her is coming from.
“So… what exactly is he after?” I ask, not entirely sure what to expect.
I’d always pegged him as fiercely protective of his daughter, but now I wonder if his protectiveness comes from a different place. It’s not just about guarding her, but about wanting her to have a future that’s secure.
Maggie snorts, rolling her eyes slightly.
“Honestly? He’d probably like me to be married by now.
I think it’s more about him wanting to know that I’m going to be okay when he’s gone.
It’s exhausting. That’s why I was asking you about hobbies this summer—I need something to show him that I’m staying busy, happy, and living a full life on my own terms.” She pauses, her expression softening.
“I don’t think I’ll be getting into MMA fighting anytime soon but I decided I’m going to train as a Pilates instructor at the studio in town.
Figured it’s something I can do when I move back to Houston, too. ”
Her confession throws me for a loop. My mind races, a plan starts to form—one that could either be genius or a total disaster. But right now, it feels like it could be the start of something big. Before I can over think it, the words are out of my mouth.
“What if… what if we told your dad we were dating for the summer?”
It’s her turn to set her fork down on the plate and look at me bewildered. “Why would we do that?”
I rub my hand over the stubble on my jaw, thinking it over. “Might get him off your back while you’re home? You said he’s been hounding you about dating and keeping busy.”
Maggie tilts her head, considering. “Okay... and what about you?”
“It’d get my family off mine too. They won’t be asking where I’m disappearing to every morning and evening for training, and they’ll stop pestering me about finding a date for this wedding.”
“Wedding?” Her brows furrow, and guilt hits me hard—there hasn’t been time to tell her about Savannah’s wedding.
Is it a terrible idea to bring my not-girlfriend, fake-date, twenty-year-old, town sweetheart to my ex’s wedding?
Probably.
But fake dating Maggie would help me focus on training for the tournament next month without Wylie and Stevie trying to set me up with every random woman they know. It'd also give me an excuse for not being around as much as I used to be.
I let out a deep breath and decide to come clean. “Savannah’s getting married next weekend. Wylie RSVP’d for me—without asking—and threw in a plus one.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, nodding slowly as she processes this revelation. “Right... I forgot. My dad’s going to that.”
“It’d be weird if I showed up with someone else, considering the whole fake-dating thing, right?”
She nods again before stabbing a piece of pancake and popping it into her mouth. “Sure, yeah, that’d be weird. Let’s do it, then.”
“Really?” I blink. That easy?
She shrugs, casual as ever. “Why not? Despite our obvious age gap and the fact that some people may have opinions, I think my dad might be happy about this. He’s always saying good things about you, and it’ll give me the summer to focus on my internship, working at the co-op and getting my Pilates instructor certification without feeling only child guilt about disappointing him. ”
“Okay...” I watch as she continues eating like we just made a completely normal decision.
Maybe she’s really sticking to this friends-with-benefits thing.
“Maybe we should set some ground rules?” I ask.
She snorts, rolling her eyes. “I already told you, I know this isn’t turning into something more, Clay. I’m fine with the whole friends-with-benefits thing, right? Because if we’re fake dating, I at least deserve the benefit of getting your dick and some orgasms out of it.”
I laugh, but inside, I’m not as relaxed as I pretend to be.
I wasn’t suggesting ground rules for her—I was thinking of ground rules for me.
Because now I’m not worried about her catching feelings.
I’m worried about me falling for her… especially when this thing feels a lot less like friends-with-benefits and a whole lot more like a real relationship. ..