Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
Izzy
I scoff. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough." He grins confidently.
What the fuck?
"We don't even know each other's real names," I argue with a huff. The dating app doesn’t use real names, which I kind of like, but now I feel at a disadvantage.
"Easy. We can change that now. I'm Maverick, Mav for short." He reaches out a hand to shake mine, and I oblige with a slight chuckle. The gesture seems so silly after the way he just kissed me without contempt.
"Izabel. Everyone calls me Izzy. You? You can call me, never."
"What?" he spits out in a surprised gasp.
"You heard me. This is all too coincidental for me. I just wanted to fuck. Now, I just want to go home." I grab my clutch off the bar and begin to walk away. "Have a nice life, Mister Mysterious."
He grabs my wrist, stopping me in my place beside him. Our eyes meet and stay locked. You'd think it would be uncomfortable, but it isn't.
Again, it feels familiar. Everything about him does, including the way he makes me feel…
Almost the same way Jett used to.
I shake my head, clearing the thought.
I hate that everything real still reminds me of him.
I always hoped that after all the time that’s passed between us, he’d be off my mind by now. That isn’t the case. I fear it may never be.
Jett set the bar high—not just for a standard of what a guy should do or act, but for how a guy should rip down my barrier of walls without concern and push my boundaries. Force me to feel. Only he has ever been able to accomplish that.
Granted, it’s the very thing that scared me away.
My point is: I have serious doubts that I’ll ever feel what I felt for him, for any other man. I’ve accepted this a long time ago. Or so I try to convince myself that I have.
"Kiss me," Maverick whispers roughly directly into my ear as he leans in.
"What?" I huff. "Did you not hear what I just said?"
"Oh, I did, and I'll say it again... Kiss. Me."
I don't like kissing. It feels so.... Intimate. Whereas, when I'm with a guy, it's strictly only to get off. Fuck feelings and emotions.
The truth is, there's only one man I ever felt comfortable kissing, and I lost him long ago due to my own issues.
Ugh. Here I go again, thinking of Jett.
Always thinking of Jett.
FUCK IT!
Didn’t I just say I wanted a man to push my boundaries?
I lean in and press my lips to his, drowning out my relentless thoughts and memories. His fresh, citrusy scent invades my senses, sending my body into overdrive. I place a hand on his chest to stop the kiss just as one of his hands wraps in my hair, pulling me closer.
The air between us ignites, and the sparks fly like fireworks.
I don't intervene like my mind is screaming at me to do. Instead, I just enjoy. Every. Fucking. Second.
This persistent asshole may be slightly annoying, but damn, he can kiss. And damn does his body feel nice under my palms, hard and sculpted from years of blue-collar life.
I want more. He already pushed my boundaries, maybe he can force me to feel… more.
My thoughts fade to nothing, and all that exists is us in this very moment, every one of my senses craving more.
More, more, more.
When I moan into his mouth, all but fucking begging, Maverick expertly pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and releases it with a popping sound that snaps me back to reality.
My eyes shoot open to meet his, and I know he can see exactly what I want.
Breaking eye contact, he leans over and whispers in my ear, "I'll fuck you, but only if you're sure you're ready."
I snort out a laugh. "What? Ready for what, exactly?"
"To never want another man. After I have my way with you…" He bites down on his bottom lip as he looks me over. My heart sinks. It's the same thing Jett would do while undressing me with his eyes. "You won't want anyone else."
I gulp audibly.
Good luck with that, buddy, I think to myself, kicking my ass that wanting more even crossed my fucking mind.
I really am a stupid bitch sometimes.
So I square my shoulders, saying, "We shall see about that. Like I said earlier, you don't know me at all. You've just proved that to be factual."
Without another word, I walk away, leaving him standing there.
Reaching my car, I begin to pull the door open. I feel a hand snake around my waist, turning me in place.
Maverick towers over me, eyes hot on me. His face is serious, lacking all traces of humor it previously held. I can see the lust burning hot in his eyes. It’s fucking contagious.
He reaches a hand behind me and shuts my car door just as he reaches down and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I shout through the uncontrollable laughter that bellows out of me.
"I'm not letting you go so easily this time."
I should be terrified. I'm not. I don't know this fucking guy. He could be a serial killer, for all I'm aware.
Gosh, I'm more fucked in the head than I thought.
More might be up in the air, but the truth is, I want this. I’m up for the challenge that he’s laying out there.
He’s officially met his match, and doesn’t even know it yet. Poor thing.
He has no idea that if fucking without feelings were a sport, I’d win. Hell, I’d hold an Olympic gold medal. So, if he believes for a second that he can fuck his way into my heart, he has another thing coming.
This will be just like all of the other one-night stands I’ve had, and I’m okay with that. I have to be okay with that. I have to try.