25. Emmy
TWENTY-FIVE
Maverick crasheshis mouth against mine with so much intensity, it’s like he’s afraid I’m going to take back what I said.
I’m not.
I want to be consumedby him.
This kiss is exactly like the first time. Rough. Hot and messy like we’re at war with each other, and I sink into the bite of his teeth and the tug on the ends of my hair. The scrape of his nails down my back and the smooth, easy way he moves me so I’m on top of him, one leg on either side of his.
I’ve missed this.
Not him, but intimacy with someone else.
The ache of satisfaction when something feels so good, you want to scream about it. A hand other than your own and the fire that stirs inside you when you reach divine bliss.
I’ve always been a sexual woman, someone who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to voice it. I’ve had partners criticize my desires and shrug off the need for bedroom compatibility.
I’m a firm believer that a good sex life—one built on trust, honesty, and respect when you’re at your most vulnerable—is important. It tells you things about a person, and what I know about Maverick after just one time is that he can give me exactly what I want.
An hour where I can shut off my brain. A moment in time when I feel beautiful and powerful and on top of the fucking world.
I don’t have to be a professional athlete who smiles in front of cameras and busts her ass in the gym and on the ice. Who pushes herself to the brink of exhaustion again and again because it’s what’s expected of me.
I can be a mindless, boneless woman worthy of the highest pleasure.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask before I kiss the corner of his mouth. “Please tell me you have a condom.”
Maverick grips the back of my head and a low laugh rumbles out of him. “Of course I have a condom. I put a new one in my wallet after Chicago. I was feeling optimistic about there being a second time.”
“Thank god.”
“Probably my favorite nickname you have for me.”
I roll my eyes and dig into his pocket. A frantic need pulses through me as I pull out the leather wallet and sort through his credit cards and ID.
I have to have him.
I stop when I see a picture tucked behind his black AMEX.
“You carry around a photo of June?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He traces the picture of her with high pigtails and her two front teeth missing, and my heart nearly cracks in two. “I told you she’s my favorite person in the world.”
“Goddamn you.” I fist the cotton of his shirt and give him a little shake. “Why do you have to be so goddamn hot and such a nice guy?”
Maverick smiles. A dimple, a flush of red on his cheeks. “You hate that I’m a nice guy, don’t you?”
“I despise it.”
“This would be so much easier if I was an asshole, wouldn’t it? Then you could pretend you want to fuck me because you hate me, not because I know how to treat you right. Because I know how to treat you like you deserve.” His fingers toy with the strap of my tank top, and he drags it down my arm, all the way to my elbow. “We both know two times isn’t going to be enough.”
“It’s more than enough,” I say, and his laugh is sin on my skin. “Two times too many.”
“All right, Emmy girl. I’ll play your game.” Maverick plucks the foil packet from behind a wad of cash and chucks his wallet at the wall. “Only because I’m not afraid to admit I want you so damn bad.”
Our shirts land in a heap on the floor. My eyes roam down his chest, and I sigh.
“It’s really unfair how good you look,” I say under my breath.
“I could say the same about you.” He puts one hand on the small of my back and the other on my stomach, sitting up so he can suck on my nipple. “I’m usually more of an ass guy, but I could touch your tits all day long.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” I spread my legs wider, and the head of his cock presses into my shorts. “Touch all you want.”
“Did you like what I did last time?” Maverick switches to the other side of my chest. His tongue swirls around the peak of my nipple, and I groan. “Anything you’d change?”
“Now is not the time for a survey, Miller.” I close my eyes and reach between us, adjusting the bulge of his length so I can drag myself over it. “Oh. I like that.”
“Think you can get your first one while you still have shorts on?” He massages my breast, and I rock forward. “I bet you can.”
“Why am I doing all the work?” I huff and roll my hips, searching for the friction I crave. “You have two hands. And a tongue.”
“Because watching you try to fuck yourself on me is hot as hell, even though we both know you’re going to need more. Three fingers, right? And every inch of my cock.”
Words are impossible to find. I blow out a shaky exhale and grind against the fabric of his clothes, a slow swell of pressure building inside me.
“There you go,” Maverick whispers, and he brushes a piece of hair out of my face. “Stain my shorts. Make me walk back to my room with your cum all over them.”
“I’ve never?—”
“Come on someone’s lap before? You do it so beautifully, Emmy girl. Fuck. When you’re close, I want you to pull your shorts to the side, okay? I want to see you when you come.”
I hold onto his shoulders and dig my fingers into his muscles. I’m uncoordinated and off-balance, rotating my hips again and again until I find the perfect angle where the head of his cock pushes against my clit.
My legs shake, trembling in a way that makes it difficult to reach down and move the wet fabric aside.
“Look at that pussy. That’s so good, Emmy.” Maverick kisses the top of my chest then sinks his teeth into the curve of my breast. I cry out, the stimulation almost too much to bear before he licks over the bite marks with his tongue. “All of it, baby. I want all of it.”
I bury my face in the crook of his neck and muffle my moan as I explode in bursts of color. I squirm against him and he lifts his hips a quarter of an inch, rubbing against me so I don’t leave anything behind.
Before I can understand where I am or how I got there, my shorts are off and I’m naked on top of him. The air is cool on my sweat-soaked skin, and the world comes back into focus.
Maverick is watching me with one palm wrapped around his cock. He pumps himself twice before he stops to rip open the condom and roll it down his length.
I sit up on my knees, hovering above him, and our eyes meet.
“Take me to church, Emmy,” he murmurs. His hands run up my thighs and squeeze my hips. “Please.”
“I didn’t think you were a religious guy,” I whisper, and I sink down on him in a bleary fog.
“I’m not.” Maverick bites the soft skin near my shoulder as I take him another inch deeper, and my breath catches in my throat. “But I imagine you’re what heaven feels like, so I’m a converted man.”
The only sound in the room is the gentle slap of his hips meeting mine until I’m fully seated on him. Until I’m full and warm and drunk on the shape of his smile and the flash of heat in his eyes.
He takes his time snaking his left hand up my body, touching and teasing me until he reaches my neck. He closes his fingers around my throat, tighter than last time, and I give him a silent nod that tells him it’s okay.
“You’re incredible,” he says, thrusting into me.
“You’re saying that because your dick is inside me.”
“I’ve thought it since the first time I saw you.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am not.” Maverick lifts me off of him in a single swoop and lays me on my stomach, my ass in the air. “I’ve thought about your curves. Your legs. All your strong muscles and your razor-sharp wit, and I’ve been dreaming about you for days. Fuck, Emmy. You’re perfect.”
Perfect.
I’m perfect.
Another word no one’s ever called me, and I hold it close to my chest.
He slams into me, and I lose my mind. It’s possessive. Claiming, and exactly what I wanted. Maverick is unrelenting, thorough, and he touches me everywhere he can reach.
His movements turn ragged, and a soft groan tells me he’s close. He reaches around my hip and presses on my clit with his thumb.
I look at him over my shoulder, desperate to see more of him, and I wish I hadn’t.
He’s beautiful, with his hair sticking up in all directions and his parted lips. With labored breathing and the pink marks on his skin that are going to turn into little purple bruises.
All because of me.
“See something you like?” he asks with a sly grin.
“No.” I shake my head. “Not a damn thing.”
“I love it when you lie.” He tips his head back toward the ceiling, and the muscles in his arms strain. “How close are you? I’m hanging on by a fucking thread.”
“Close. Just keep doing—fuck, Maverick. Right there.”
“One more, Emmy girl. Give me one more.”
I hate that my body responds to him.
I hate that a second orgasm sneaks up on me, his name a moan on my lips.
I hate that I smile when I hear him follow me over the edge, Emmy, Emmy, Emmy a whispered prayer in my ear as his legs shake and his hands fall away from my body.
Maverick collapses on top of me in a daze. I roll out from under him and try to catch my breath.
“If that doesn’t help me have a good game,” I pant, “then nothing will.”
He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me against his chest. “We better both get hat tricks. Top Ten on ESPN.”
“We might have used up all our energy.” I twist onto my side and look up at him. His eyes are closed, and for half a second, I think he might be asleep. “We didn’t think this through.”
“There was a study on endorphins and female athletes,” he mumbles. “They said sex aided their performance.”
“Who is they?”
“I don’t know.” He waves a lazy hand in the air. “Them.”
I huff out a giggle. “Them is very smart.”
“Very smart,” he agrees. “You have to ask the question of the day. I’m spent.”
“And I’m not? Two orgasms, Miller. I could fall asleep standing up.”
Maverick opens one eye. “Did I earn another satisfactory?”
“Acceptable,” I tell him. “Don’t get too cocky.”
“It’s always good to have room for improvement.”
Nothing about his performance needs improving, but I keep that to myself.
“What’s your biggest fear?” I ask.
“Wow. Getting deep with the psychological questions after I got deep in you. I like your style, Red.”
I grab a pillow from behind me and hit him square in the jaw. “I’m not playing your game anymore.”
“Don’t ruin my pretty face!” Maverick hugs me tight and kisses my collarbone. “I’m only trying to make you laugh. Did it work?”
“No,” I say, but I clamp down on a smile.
“My biggest fear is the ocean. I love pools and lakes and going to the beach, but the ocean terrifies me. It’s too big and too unknown. I barely put my toes in because I’m afraid some sea creature is going to snatch me away.”
“That would be a sucky way to go. Imagine an eel getting you.”
“What’s your biggest fear?” he asks.
“Snakes. I can’t even see one in a movie. I’ll have nightmares for days.” I shiver. “God, they’re disgusting.”
“So don’t leave a rubber snake out to scare you? Got it.” Maverick trails his hand down my arm then back up. “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”
“Somewhere warm, like a private island in the Caribbean. But I’d also want to have a summer home in England. Is that allowed?”
“Of course it’s allowed. It’s our game. You can have as many houses as you want.”
“Where would you live? A city, I bet. You strike me as a big city guy with Prada peacoats and Armani suits.”
“Nah. I’d like to live in the mountains. Crisp air. Wide open skies. No neighbors for miles. It would be heaven.”
“Really?” I prop my chin up on his chest and touch his cheek. “That’s a surprise.”
“No one wants to be predictable, Red. Where’s the fun in that?” Maverick yawns. “I know I said ordering food sounded like a good idea, but I’m going to head back to my room. I’m exhausted.”
“Same. Rain check on dinner?” I ask, and he smiles.
“Definitely.” He untangles our limbs and climbs off the bed. He pulls off the used condom and ties it in a knot before dropping it in the trash can. “Do you have your alarm set?”
“Yeah.” I stretch out my legs and sigh. “Thanks for a good night.”
“Right back at you. We’ll see the results of our experiment tomorrow.”
“What happens if we win again?”
“I guess we’ll have to fuck a third time, just to be sure,” he says, putting on his clothes.
“And if we lose?”
“Is it really losing if we fuck away the disappointment?”
I laugh and nudge his thigh with my foot, pushing him toward the door. “Good night, pretty boy.”
Maverick bends down and kisses my forehead, just like he did the last time we were together. His lips linger on my skin, and my heart skips a beat when he’s slow to pull away.
“Night, Emmy girl. Sweet dreams.”