36. Maverick
36
Maverick
T he finality of the meeting washed over me as I shook hands with the last designer. The vision for my exclusive sex club was about to come to life—a playground for the senses, where trust and exploration could meld into one intoxicating experience. Every inch of it was designed to perfection, to safety, to indulgence.
But there was a key part missing: Sophie’s approval. I wanted her to feel the excitement that this place promised; I wanted to see it through her eyes before we opened the doors to others. And of course, I wanted to experience it for the first time with her.
I’d told her earlier to make sure she ate, both out of concern and preparation for what awaited us tonight. Hopefully she listened, but I hadn’t seen her nor heard from her. I was antsy to get back after the morning we’d had together.
It was a great morning, but she seemed wrapped up in her thoughts, like I was.
Then, there was the call from the jewelry store… I found myself striding down the shopping wing with an unsettling feeling in my gut.
“Mr. Mercer, thank goodness,” a flustered saleswoman greeted me. “She just ran off.”
“Ran off?” My brows knotted together. In my world, things were controlled, calculated. Spontaneity wasn’t common, especially not in the form of panic. But Sophie was always throwing me for a fucking loop in some way.
But I’d thought we’d moved past the goddamn flightiness. And now my brain was concerned that she was doubting me, doubting us, doubting… all of this. It made me sick to my stomach.
“Yes, she was here one moment, looking at the jewelry, and after your call, she just… left,” she explained, motioning towards a display case with a hint of desperation.
“She was particularly captivated by a ring,” the other saleswoman said.
“Which ring?” I demanded, needing to anchor myself on something tangible and not on the possible reasons why she ran out of here.
“Here.” Her finger hovered over the glass, pointing at a piece that sent a jolt through me. It was intricate and elegant and beautiful, much like the woman who was currently making my head spin.
“Add it to my account,” I said without hesitation, the realization hitting me like a thunderbolt. The way she must have looked at that ring mirrored how she looked into my soul—with a mix of wonder and fear for the future. And me? I was lost to her just the same.
Now I just had to prevent her from running… again. Would that always be the case with us? Or would we be able to move past it at some point?
With the ring secured in a velvet box and tucked into a bag with the other items she’d picked out, I headed back to our suite. I opened the door to find Sophie pacing, her movements skittish yet graceful, like a doe aware of a predator’s gaze.
“Hey.” My voice was gentle, but firm.
Relief flickered across her face before her eyes landed on the bag in my hand. She recoiled, stepping back further into the living space. She looked so small in the large, open layout.
“Ma-Maverick, I’m sorry, I—” she stammered. Maverick. Not Mav. Not babe. Maverick.
She continued to back up like she wasn’t sure whether to explain or escape.
I didn’t let her do either.
“Stop.” I set the bag down on the kitchen counter, but instead of pulling her into my arms, I took her hand—and sank to the floor, pulling her down with me.
“What—”
“Shhh. Stop talking.” She blinked at me like I’d lost my mind. She was still tense, her shoulders high, her pulse rapid where I felt it beneath my fingertips.
“Talk to me, Soph.”
She exhaled sharply, her head tilting toward the ceiling. “It’s stupid,” she muttered.
“Try me.”
She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. I let the silence stretch, waiting her out. “It just—” she groaned. “It felt like too much. And I panicked. And then you… you still bought them.”
“Of course I did.” I said it simply, watching her carefully.
“Why?”
“Because you wanted all of it.” Her lips parted slightly. “And because I wanted you to have all of it.” I let that sit for a moment before adding, “You know, you don’t have to run every time something feels like too much, Sophie.”
Her throat bobbed.
“Just enjoy the time, okay?”
“Okay.” She was complying, but by the way she pushed her hair behind her shoulders with trembling hands and shifted on her knees, I knew she was still feeling out of sorts.
But I wasn’t done. “Now. Have you eaten?”
She sighed, rubbing her temple. “Yes, before shopping.”
“That’s my girl.” I stood, offering her my hand, then pulling her up and into me when she took it. “Now you ready for some fun?”
She took a deep breath and nodded.
I led her up to the new addition, pausing just outside the entrance. I turned to face her, the anticipation a palpable force between us. I wanted her approval. I wanted her in this space with me. I wanted her in every way, and if that ring down in my suite was any indication, I wanted her to be mine.
I met her eyes, finally clear of whatever panic she’d felt earlier, and said, “I designed this place as a sanctuary—a safe space for individuals to explore their deepest desires, without fear, without judgment. Something I did all on my own.”
She shifted slightly, like she was trying to see past me—like she wanted more.
“Are you ready to explore with me?” I asked, my voice laced with the promise of everything we were about to discover together. That same pull, the one that always seemed to draw us closer, hummed between us, unspoken but impossible to ignore.
Sophie nodded, her hand tightening in mine, and together we stepped across the threshold into a world of our own making.