9. Katie
Chapter nine
Katie
For a split second, I melted in Maverick’s embrace, whimpering at the slick heat of his tongue. I kissed him back, curling my fingers into his cut, even though I knew I shouldn’t. He pinned me against the door frame, the hard planes of his body hot and unyielding. My breath caught in my throat at the bulge of his cock straining against his fly already.
Then I pushed at Maverick’s chest with more resolve than I felt.
“I can’t,” I said. “You—you’re leaving.”
His dark eyes locked on me.
“Then we should make the most of the time we have, yeah?”
I scoffed.
“That’s bullshit.”
Maverick arched an eyebrow with a spark of amusement in his gaze.
“Wow, you really are getting sassy, aren’t you?”
I scowled at him.
“Don’t tease me. I’m being serious. And I don’t want to hear you spout a bunch of pretty words that you don’t mean, just to get me into bed. This—” I gestured between us. “Wasn’t even supposed to be real. You were going to teach me a few tips, and then be on your way. You did your part. It’s…over.”
My voice broke on the last word and I turned, fleeing into my apartment building. As the door closed behind me, Maverick shouldered his way inside.
“Katie, just hold on a second, will you?”
I kept walking, with the steady tread of his footsteps behind me. Then it occurred to me that I didn’t want Maverick to know which apartment was mine. I couldn’t bear to have him at my door, hoping to talk, to wear me down and let him in. He might show up months—or maybe even years—down the road when he passed through town again, reminiscing about old times.
I turned to face him, jaw clenched, eyes burning, lips pressed together in a desperate attempt to maintain my composure. Any minute now, I would burst into tears, but I didn’t need to embarrass myself further in front of Maverick.
I always knew he would leave. But I never dreamed it would hurt this much when the time actually came for him to go.
“I think I made a mistake, agreeing to this,” I whispered.
Maverick’s gaze softened and he cupped my chin in his palm. A lump lodged in my throat at his touch—the warmth of his skin, the firm pressure of his grip, confident and reassuring.
“No, you didn’t, baby,” he said.
“But I wasn’t supposed to fall in love—”
“Me neither.”
I blinked and stared up at Maverick.
“You’re…just saying that. To sleep with me. Then you’ll be gone as soon as I turn my back.”
“And what if I’m not?” he countered.
I didn’t know how to respond to that, unprepared for the possibility that Maverick might return my feelings. But if he felt about me the way I felt about him, would it actually change anything?
He was a biker, a nomad who didn’t have a home.
I was a small town girl, surrounded by the same people I grew up with, deeply nestled into the creature comforts of familiarity and routine.
I didn’t belong in his world. And he didn’t belong in mine.
Shaking my head, I pushed him away again.
“You don’t mean it.”
Maverick caught my wrist, circling his thumb in my palm. Then he pulled me closer, threading his fingers through my hair as he kissed me softly.
All my defenses and protests and the last trembling measure of self-control holding on by a thread…completely dissolved, melting like butter on a hot summer’s day. I didn’t believe him, and a small voice in the back of my mind warned me that he was probably toying with me to get what he wanted, but I didn’t care.
I had waited so long to be held like this, kissed like this. I was supposed to be practicing for someone else, but this whole time, I never dreamed of anyone else except Maverick.
He dropped his mouth to my neck, shoving my t-shirt up to knead my breast. He looped his arm around me, sliding his free hand into the back pocket of my jeans, squeezing my ass.
My body pulsed with need—tingly and bright. Maverick tugged me tight against him until no space existed between us, and it still wasn’t close enough. I needed him inside me, to flood my senses with his taste, his touch, his everything.
Anyone could walk out of their apartment right now and see us like this, but that didn’t stop Maverick from slotting his muscled thigh between my legs. Gripping my ass and dragging me forward and back, coaxing me to grind against him.
I clawed at his shoulder, blinded by the ache of pleasure quickly growing unbearable. My usual shyness was nowhere to be seen. All I could think about was my insatiable need for Maverick to touch me more, kiss me harder, to strum my body like a harp and make me sing.
A door slammed somewhere in the building.
Maverick broke away, pressing his forehead to mine, breathing heavily. He pinched my nipple until I squirmed, then smoothed my shirt down, resting his palm on my hip.
“Tell me to leave and I’ll go,” he said, hoarse and low.
Damn it. He knew I wouldn’t say it. Not now. Not after… that.
Wordlessly, I took Maverick by the wrist and led him to my apartment. As we stepped inside, I remembered the mess I’d left behind when he showed up earlier today—packing supplies scattered across my kitchen table, boxes lined up by the door.
“Don’t look,” I said, covering Maverick’s eyes with my hand. “I wasn’t expecting company, so I haven’t had a chance to clean.”
He chuckled, curving his palms around my waist as he slowly moved forward.
“Do you really think I give a shit whether you’ve cleaned or not, dove? I’ll only be looking at you anyway.”
I huffed, leading him to the bedroom.
“Damn you and that silver tongue. It’s too easy for you to flatter me.”
He grinned.
“Should I stop?”
No , I thought. Never .
But he would one day. When the road called to him. When he left everything behind—including me—and I had nothing but the echo of his words and the cold memory of his touch.
I walked backward as Maverick and I entered my bedroom, my hand still over his eyes. My heart thundered against my ribs with anticipation. When I bumped against my mattress, he nearly collided with me, briefly stepping on my toes before adjusting his position.
Then he removed my hand and gazed down at me. I hadn’t bothered to turn on the light, so my room was dim and swathed in shadows. The only illumination came from the street lamp on the corner, filtering through a gap in my curtains.
“Are you going to say I can’t look at you again?” he asked.
I didn’t answer, gliding my palms down his chest. Mapping the firm muscle and scorching body heat through the fabric of his shirt. Slowly, I pushed his cut off his shoulders. He took it gently from my hands and draped it on a nearby chair.
“You can look,” I whispered. “And taste. And touch. And…everything else.”
Even if it means you’ll break my heart. Even if it means I’ll shatter into a million pieces.
Maverick’s eyes darkened, guiding my arms around his neck.
“Then you better hold onto me for dear life, sweetheart.”
The next thing I knew, he hooked his hands behind my knees, hoisted me clear off my feet, and we tumbled onto the mattress together. I gulped at the sight of Maverick above me, arms braced on either side of my head, his hips pushed between my thighs. His broad shoulders filled my view.
I felt small in comparison—a strange, foreign sensation when I was so used to men making remarks about my size and how much space I took up.
“And here I thought you’d be blushing beet red by now,” Maverick said. “Don’t you want to see the marks you left on me earlier today?”
Reaching between his shoulder blades, I grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt. Maverick smirked and lowered his head, making it easier for me to pull his shirt off.
Red welts from my fingernails scored his chest. Seeing his tattoos unimpeded by clothes like this was mesmerizing. I couldn’t stop looking, drinking in every detail—the ink on his arms from wrists to shoulders, even more ink that cascaded over his chest, but his ribs were mostly bare, down to his hips. A few pale, raised scars were visible, faded with time, and dark hair dusted his torso.
“Tell me your name,” I said softly.
Maverick’s throat worked as he swallowed. The weight of his hand settled on my hip, and he pushed the hem of my t-shirt up, grazing his knuckles across my bare stomach.
“I haven’t used my real name since I was a kid,” he said. “Everyone just calls me Maverick. It’s been that way for years.”
“Then tell me what a club bunny is,” I countered.
He huffed and bowed his head in defeat.
“I can look it up on my phone—” I started.
“No,” Maverick cut in. “God, no. I don’t need you getting lost in the sleazy underbelly of the internet when it comes to biker gang life, all right? A club bunny doesn’t belong to any specific member. She’s…shared. Consensually, of course. She’s not a wife, or a girlfriend—”
“So, she’s a prostitute,” I said.
He winced.
“Not exactly. I mean, she could be, but that’s not the point. Sometimes, a club bunny is there for the thrill of bedding a biker. There’s a lot of adrenaline that needs an outlet for both parties involved. But for most club bunnies I’ve talked to, it’s more about comfort, companionship in the moment. Bikers aren’t exactly reliable relationship material, so it’s easier to keep your options open. Jesus, I didn’t expect to be having this conversation right now.”
Oh. I couldn’t imagine living that way, but there were many things about Maverick’s lifestyle that I couldn’t wrap my head around.
I was lucky—growing up sheltered, loved, and protected from the world in a small town. Other people didn’t have that. They had to make the most of whatever cards they’d been dealt, and if that meant sharing the bed of a biker who welcomed them with open arms, then so be it.
But I understood now why Maverick had his hackles up when Pretty Boy had called me bunny. And why he was reluctant to explain it to me.
“That’s not you though,” Maverick added, clenching his jaw. “You’re not a bunny and you never will be. You’re mine .”
The gravel-roughness of his voice surprised me, sending a shiver racing across my skin.
“I need to know who I belong to,” I whispered."Tell me your name. Please?"
He was silent for a moment, and I could have sworn the tips of his ears turned red. But I couldn’t be certain in the dim light. Then he shook his head, pressing a kiss to my hip.
“You’ll laugh,” he replied. “And I’ll be damned if I ruin the mood when I’ve got you beneath me like this, looking so fucking perfect. It’s bad enough bringing up Pretty Boy and club bunnies, for Christ’s sake. You’re ruining my pillow talk.”
Before I could protest, Maverick had my shirt up, nuzzling his face between my breasts, nipping and kissing them. My skin buzzed with electricity from his mouth, the sandpaper roughness of his stubble, and my brain went blissfully blank. I arched into him, clutching a fistful of his hair to hold him in place.
“Not fair,” I gasped. “You’re about to take my virginity, but I only know your road name."
Maverick swore faintly under his breath and started to pull my sneakers and socks off, unbuttoning my jeans.
“That’s one hell of a guilt trip, dove.”
“You know I have a point,” I countered.
He sighed and leaned over me, removing my shirt. As soon as my head was free of the fabric, I placed a hand on his bicep with a pleading look.
“Fuck, don’t do that, baby,” Maverick said. “I can’t—the puppy eyes…”
I giggled, and felt bold enough to dance my fingers along the edge of his belt, tugging at the buckle. He huffed and caught my wrist, pressing a kiss into my palm.
“It’s Felix,” he begrudgingly admitted. “Felix Hurst.”
A smile bloomed across my face.
“That’s adorable .”
“Goddamn it,” he muttered, pinning my wrist to the bed. “And that’s exactly why I go by Maverick. I have a reputation to maintain.”
I grinned up at him, bumping my nose against his.
“Of course you do. You’re a big, burly biker, with a fear of commitment the size of Texas.”
He breathed a laugh, pinching my lower lip between his teeth. The slightest shift of his hips brought him in contact with my aching core, grinding the hard ridge of his cock against me. A wrecked sound escaped my lips, part shock at the sensation, and part desperation for more.
Maverick smirked as he smoothed my hair back and eased himself down on top of me, until his naked chest was pressed to mine, with only the thin fabric of my bra separating us. He hummed against my lips, triumphant.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re just begging to be fucked senseless, aren’t you?”
My face flamed. Because yes, I was.
Maverick sucked on my neck, grinding harder until I was smothered in the mattress and enveloped by his weight. When he unzipped my fly and slipped his hand down my jeans, brushing my clit, a hot rush of pleasure jolted through me like lightning.
“I’ve been waiting for this ever since I met you,” Maverick murmured, inches away from my lips. He pressed up into my g-spot with two fingers, making my thighs tremble. “Bare and beautiful and so needy that you can’t stand it.”
Arousal clouded my mind. I gripped Maverick’s wrist, muscles and tendons flexing beneath my fingertips, as he stroked and stroked with a heavenly smooth rhythm.
Then he pulled back and I whimpered at the all-too-familiar emptiness I had known for so long.
“Easy, dove. Don’t pout. I’m right here.”
Maverick peeled my jeans and panties off, pressing my thighs open with his heavy, callused palms. I sat up just far enough to unhook my bra and tossed it aside, resisting the instinctual urge to cover myself.
His dark eyes grew even darker as his gaze slowly panned over me. He’d seen me in that ridiculously scanty lingerie earlier today, but this was different. I’d never been completely naked with a man before.
Taking my hand, Maverick placed it on his belt.
“Nervous?” he asked.
“A little,” I replied, fighting to catch my breath.
Unbuckling his belt, I dragged the zipper of his fly down, exposing his cock. I wrapped my fingers around it, my mouth dry and my stomach full of jitters at the thought that he would be inside me very soon.
Maverick released a shuddering breath, pumping his hips into my grip. If the relentless throb between my thighs wasn’t driving me out of my mind, I could do this all day instead. Watching the flex and shift of his abs with every thrust, the straining tendons in his neck, and the twitch of his cock expanding in my grasp.
Maverick tore himself away, stripping off his boots and jeans. He dug in his pocket and retrieved a condom, ripping it open with his teeth.
“Last call, sweetheart. Do you want to back out?”
I shook my head. Maverick knelt between my thighs, rolling the condom onto his pulsing cock. As he settled over me again, braced on his elbows, he hitched my leg up around his hips. Guided the blunt head of his cock to my entrance.
“Eyes on me, dove,” he whispered.
I met his gaze, feeling lightheaded. A moment later, he slowly pressed in, stretching me open. Slippery and thick and bordering on too much. I couldn’t help it—I glanced down, entranced by his tattooed, scarred muscular body covering my soft, slightly flushed curves.
I winced as he sank deeper, the stretch becoming a pinch, and then a burn.
Maverick must have seen the look on my face. He withdrew, sliding his fingers inside me again until the burn evaporated, replaced with that mind-melting pleasure again. Flicking his tongue over my nipple, he slotted his cock at my entrance for a second time and thrust in slowly with a heavy drag.
“Oh my God ,” I choked out.
Maverick’s lips quirked up against my skin, peppering my breasts with kisses. Sucking at one nipple, followed by the other. I pressed my face into his shoulder, overwhelmed in the most perfect way.
He anchored his hands at my hips, holding me in place. Each thrust became harder, more intense, making me so full that I couldn’t think of anything else except how good it felt.
“Taking every inch of me so well, dove,” Maverick rasped.
My eyes rolled back in my head when he buried his cock deep, hitting a spot that made me sob with pleasure.
Maverick cupped the back of my neck, palm splayed across my lower belly. I couldn’t look anywhere else except him, pinned beneath his smoldering gaze.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing tight , baby,” he growled through his teeth. “Are you ready to come all over my cock like a good girl?”
All I could do was nod, planting my hand in the center of his chest to stabilize myself.
With one swipe of Maverick’s thumb across my clit, I crumbled. Searing bliss cascaded through my veins. My eyes clamped shut tight, body bowing off the bed.
Maverick snapped his hips a few more times, hard enough to send fresh ripples of ecstasy radiating all the way out to my toes. His breathing grew jagged and rough with desperation, pressing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss.
Folding me into his arms, Maverick chased his own orgasm, tumbling over the edge after me. Short, sharp thrusts, bruising fingertips digging into my curves as if he could fuse our bodies together.
He pushed deep one last time with a moan, cock twitching.
Then it was over, and silence filled my bedroom. Tremors pulsed through my exhausted muscles.
Maverick gave a slow, teasing stroke, but he didn’t show any inclination of pulling out yet, and I didn’t want him to.
I wrapped my arms and legs around him, inhaling the masculine scent of his skin. If only the sun would never rise and the world would stop spinning, so we could stay like this forever.