Chapter 41 Maverick
CHAPTER 41
MAVERICK
Y ou’re still in the boondocks?” Bolt asks.
I adjust my earphones and bark out a laugh, leaning my elbows on the desk in the office Hendrix told me used to be her father’s. “It’s not the boondocks. It’s a small town outside of Charlotte.”
“Semantics. Everything under control? How’s Mrs. Barry?”
“Much better. She’s been home a few days now and is taking her medications like she’s supposed to,” I say. “Looking at her, you’d never know a few days ago she was in the hospital. It was a lot for Hendrix, though, especially with her aunt down, too.”
“Do you need anything? Need me to come?”
I glance around the room Hendrix and I have commandeered for meetings, which is also apparently some kind of cemetery for sewing machines.
“No, I’m fine. Just keep my schedule clear of anything that isn’t absolutely essential.”
“So pretty much only the Vipers deal?”
“I need everything on that. We’re too close. I can’t drop any balls there. We’re just waiting on the league’s final clearance.”
“How’s it feel? Buying the team that dissed your dad for years?” I detect a bit of a smile in Bolt’s voice.
“It feels good because the league needs more Black owners and because my father deserves this. I think it will give him something to focus on.”
I don’t say now that my mother is gone , but I don’t have to. Bolt and everyone close to me knows how devastated my father has been since we lost my mom. The photos on the desk from years ago of Hendrix with her parents remind me there is a gaping hole in their family with her father gone, too.
Grief is some bullshit.
“Andy Jr. wants to talk today at three o’clock eastern,” Bolt says. “That still work?”
“Sure. I gotta get it over with. His one last chance to have any leverage over me. If I could find a way to do this deal without keeping his ass on, I would.”
“The lawyers say they’ve exhausted all the avenues available to us, and he’s part of the package. His family wants to remain involved with the leadership, even if they don’t hold a controlling interest of the team.”
“I know. Wishful thinking. Yeah. I’ll talk to him later today.”
I stand and walk over to the wall of shelves holding lots of books, mostly manuals for mechanics and car repair. I pick up a photo of Hendrix as a cheerleader, which I would never have predicted.
Wonder if that uniform is lying around somewhere… Maybe up in the attic?
“And your hotel is okay?” Bolt asks, breaking into my adolescent fantasy of sex with Hendrix and pom-poms.
“Huh? Yeah, it’s fine. The important part is I’m near Hendrix.”
“You are so…” He smothers a chuckle. “Never mind.”
“What?” I frown. “I’m so what?”
“Man, so gone for her.”
“I’m not… I mean… it’s not…” I let out a resigned sigh because shit. I absolutely am. “How did this happen?”
This time Bolt’s laughter booms across the line, which for a man of such restraint, has only happened a few times in the years he’s worked with me.
“Guess she put it on you,” he says, still laughing.
“Yeah? And what did Skipper put on you that had you fucking her the first night you met? Reckless bastard.”
“Um… well—”
“‘Um, well’ my ass. At least I got the woman I want.”
“It’s not like that with Skipper,” he admits quietly. “I mean, we’re attracted to each other and it’s… I’ve never felt anything like this, but we don’t know each other and every time we try to get to know each other, we fight.”
“Figure it out. Spend time with her. Hendrix and I didn’t just smash right off the bat. We took time getting to know each other.”
“We’ve tried.”
I reluctantly replace the cheerleading photo into its tarnished gold frame. “All I know is that I’ve been attracted to women before. Had a good time. Moved on, but this feels different. I haven’t been with Hendrix long, but I can’t imagine wanting to move on from her.”
“You saying you want to marry her?” Bolt asks, surprise tilting the question up at the end.
“I’m saying I can’t imagine a time when I don’t want to be with her, and whatever that requires, I’ll do.”
Hendrix walks in, pulling up short when she sees me seated in her father’s old office chair. She closes the door behind her and locks it, grinning as she crosses the room, an exaggerated swing to her hips.
“I gotta go,” I tell Bolt, hanging up before he has a chance to reply.
With no prelude or comment, Hendrix straddles me so her sundress inches up her thighs. She loops her arms over my shoulders and kisses my neck.
“Wagwan,” she whispers in my ear, the honeyed mesquite of her voice and the drawl that seems to have deepened since she’s been back home stroking my nerve endings.
I palm her ass and scoot her down farther on my lap, making sure she feels how hard I get every time she walks into a room. I slip my fingers under the edge of her silk panties, kneading the plump globes of her butt. She tips her head to kiss me, and our tongues spar, battle for dominance. She bites my lip hard.
“Damn, Hen.” I pull back, tugging the throbbing spot on my lip. We haven’t made love since I got here. Not that it hasn’t occurred to me, but everything else has been more important. Now nothing feels more urgent.
She smiles and without taking her eyes from mine, sucks on my bottom lip, licking the sting. My eyes drift closed, her kiss inebriating, at turns soothing and provoking. Her breasts press into my chest and her hips rock over my lap, urging me to rock back. To thrust up. I tug the bodice of her dress down, and her berry-tipped breasts spill into my hands.
“God, been missing these.” I take one into my mouth and lave it with my tongue, suck and bite until she whimpers. She reaches between us, running her palm over my erection.
“Need this dick.” She pulls back to look in my eyes, still undulating like one of my perfect waves I wait for just the right moment to ride.
I shove her panties aside and push three fingers in. No time for playing. She gasps, her eyes heavy lidded like she’s as drunk on this as I am. She dips her head, sucks my neck so hard I know she leaves her mark.
“I want to stretch for you,” she pants at my ear.
I add a fourth finger and she widens her thighs, pushes down. Her body clamps around my fingers.
“Rub my clit, Mav.”
She’s so slick. So wet and responsive—eyes clenched shut, hips undulating, ragged breaths against my neck.
“I want to be inside you, Hen. Please.” I hear the begging in my voice, but can’t even care. If she breathes on me hard I might come.
Her hand shakes as she manages to slide the panties down her legs. She fumbles with the button on my jeans, and nothing has ever taken as long as it takes her to get my zipper down and my dick in her hand. She rubs the tip, gathering the pre-cum and slicking me with her fist.
“Look at you all wet for me,” she rasps and licks her lips.
My heart is racing and it feels like I can barely breathe waiting for her to position me at the entrance to this temple, to her body. I thrust up, and it’s hard and aggressive.
“Fuuuuuuck,” I moan, pressing her legs wider so I can get in there.
She ooomph s into my neck, and I pause.
“Too much?” I grasp her nape gently, burying my hand in a waterfall of braids. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She shakes her head against my neck. “Give it to me hard.”
“You sure?” I ask, pressing her ass, urging her lower.
“Yes,” she pants, leaning back and bracing one hand on my chest. “Try to keep up, Bell.”
She laughs down at me and tightens her knees at my hips. Rocking, riding my dick with such vigor my jaw nearly unhinges. The pleasure ambushes me, and my head tips back, emptied of every lucid thought that isn’t of her.
“Hen, shit.” I squeeze my eyes closed, struggling to stave off an avalanche. “Want you to come first.”
She reaches between her legs, locks her eyes with mine and pulls her dress back. The sight of me inside her, of her stretched around me and of her caressing herself, is the final straw. The last of my control loosens like a spool of thread. Never breaking the bond of our bodies, I lift her onto the desk and stand.
“Hell, yes,” she groans and wraps her legs around my hips, drawing me in even closer.
I grip under her thighs and dive in deep and hard and fast and desperate. It’s an unforgiving pace that moves the desk a few inches, the legs scaping across the floor, but I don’t stop. Can’t. It’s too good. It’d be like calling an astronaut back from the moon. I’m in another galaxy, lost in her stars. Completely removed from earth and so far beyond anything I’ve ever felt with anyone else.
“That’s my spot.” She leans back, bracing her hands on the desk. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
I drill in and out, in and out until she bites her bottom lip to stifle the scream vibrating between her teeth. I growl like a fucking animal, sweat rolling down my temples and forehead. My shirt clings wetly to my arms and chest. My balls draw almost painfully tight and it feels like every muscle in my body goes from stasis to spasm in an instant.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I chant into the scented, satiny curve of her neck. “I’m coming.”
She grabs my ass and pulls me deeper. “Gimme that.”
I know it’s only seconds, but it feels like I pour myself into her, literally body and soul, for an eternity. And she takes it, squeezing my ass, running her hands across the bare skin of my back beneath my T-shirt. She pushes it up and feathers kisses on my chest, sucking my nipples and running her hands over my abs. She stares into my eyes, her hands gripping my waist.
“You know you’re mine, right?” she asks in a sex-scraped rasp.
I nod because who the hell else would I want to belong to?
“And you?” I cup her cheek, grip her chin, trap her gaze. “Can you say the same?”
She drops her hand between us, touching the place where we’re still joined, a physical vow of flesh. When she looks up, her eyes are sober, mouth a soft, swollen curve.
“It scares me to death,” she says. “But yeah, I’m yours.”
“Why does being mine scare you?” I trace the slope of her cheekbone. “I won’t hurt you.”
She nods, but scoots back a little until there is space between us. I immediately want to be inside her again, to be that intimately inseparable.
“I can’t believe I did that.” She laughs, shaking her head. “I’ve never had sex here.”
“You haven’t?”
“In my mama’s house? No way.” She looks horrified and gestures around her. “Not with the Lord’s Prayer on every wall.”
“So I’m your exception?” I tease.
“I guess you are.” She rolls her eyes and yields a small smile. She stands, folding her dress between her legs to catch the wetness. “What a mess. We don’t have this problem when we use condoms.”
“About that, I’ll show you my test, that I’m negative.” I pull my pants up and smile like a drunk still buzzing. “If we can keep doing it raw.”
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” She smiles, still adjusting the dress between her legs.
I stoop to grab her underwear from under the desk, stuffing them in my pocket.
“Seriously, Mav?” She wrinkles her nose.
“You’re not getting ’em back so don’t even ask.”
“I cannot believe I had sex in my mama’s house.”
“You’re just a church girl at heart, huh?”
“Not really, but my mother and my aunt definitely are.” She grimaces. “I need to get cleaned up.”
“I kind of like the idea of you just staying like that all day,” I say, only half joking.
“That’s nasty, Mav.”
Her mother’s voice singing a vaguely familiar tune seeps through the office door and walls.
“Shit!” Hendrix whisper-shouts, eyes panicked. “Mama!”
She points to me, her expression completely serious.
“Now listen here, Mav. I need to get to my room without Mama seeing me like this. You go out first and tell her you’re hungry. She had a really good day yesterday and cooked. I tasted it. There’s no sugar or baking soda in weird places. She’ll take you in the kitchen and feed you. Then I can run up the hall, shower, and change.”
“I actually am hungry.” I rest a hand on my stomach. “I missed breakfast.”
“See?” She fake smiles and shoves me toward the door. “It’s working already. Go.”
“You’re a bully,” I complain, but smile.
“You like this bully.”
No, I love this…
Shit.
I’m frozen for a second, the reality of what I’m thinking and still haven’t told her sinking in.
“Hey.” Hendrix snaps her fingers in my face. “I’m sticky. Go!”
I shake my head like I’m coming out of a trance and leave the room. Leaning against the door for a second, I try to gather my thoughts and slow my heartbeat.
“You okay, Maverick?” Mrs. Barry asks, walking up the hall with a concerned frown on her face.
“Um, yeah… I mean, yes, ma’am.” I glance back at the closed office door. “Just kind of, uh… hungry.”
“Come on to the kitchen and I’ll fix you a plate for lunch. And you don’t have to ‘ma’am’ me. I know Hendrix does, but that’s just because of how she was raised.”
“Thank you.” I frown. “How was Hendrix raised?”
Mrs. Barry looks over her shoulder and winks. “Right.”
It takes me a second to process it, but when I do, I can’t help but laugh. God, she’s just like Hendrix.
Guess I’ll have to love her, too.