Chapter 21
MAVERICK
I was the only person to see her like this. To make her this way.
It was headier than taking over the company when my father died. More exhilarating than seeing my boutique hotel idea become reality. Hell, it was more amazing than becoming a dog owner.
“I’m not done,” I warned, because I wasn’t letting her out of my sight, or dressed, for the foreseeable future.
I sat back on my heel and wiped my slick mouth with the back of my hand. I knew what she tasted like now and I was addicted.
Bridget Beckett was like crack.
She hadn’t moved since she came, her leg still thrown over the back of the couch–one I was probably going to have to replace, or immortalize.
“I did A,” I told her. “And B. We’re not stopping until we tackle C, which then means we’ll have done D- All of the above. I fucking love doing a quiz together.”
I hadn’t kissed her in… too long, so I leaned down and took her mouth. No doubt she could taste herself because it was on my tongue. My lips. My skin.
It took awhile, but I lifted my head, then knelt above her.
There was that sly smile again and she looked up at me, relaxed and sated, not a self-conscious thought in her head. “If we’re doing C, does this mean I get to see more than just the tip?”
Her gaze dropped to my dick. I pushed down the boxers and it sprang free. Gripping the base, I squeezed firmly, then stroked from root to tip. “Baby, you’ll get more than just the tip.”
Using her elbows, she pushed up, then came to her knees. “Can I?” she asked, biting her lip and having her hand hover between us.
“You can do anything you want. But not here.”
I leaned forward, tossed her over my shoulder and headed in the direction I assumed was a bedroom. I didn’t care if it was the master or not as long as there was a bed. She giggled and I slapped her ass.
She froze, then wiggled.
“Again,” she said.
Holy shit, she liked it.
I gave her another playful swat because I liked it too.
“Naughty girls get spanked.”
I dropped her on the bed and as she bounced, I reached behind my neck and tugged off the t-shirt, let it drop to the carpeted floor.
From her sprawled position on the bed, she eyed my torso like she wanted to get her hands on it.
Then her gaze dropped to my dick which curved up toward my navel from the opened zipper.
It was so hard it was almost painful. Pre-cum smeared across my stomach.
Reaching into my boxers, I gripped it at the base, squeezed hard to hold off the need to come all over her bare skin and mark her.
Maybe I should do that, take the edge off.
Then I’d be ready to fuck her for hours.
Stroking from root to tip, I set one knee on the bed so she could do whatever the fuck she wanted when the doorbell rang.
Her gaze shifted to the open bedroom door behind me, alert. Distracted, which pissed me off.
“Whoever it is will go away,” I said.
It rang again. Then once more immediately after.
Fuck.
“Stay here,” I said, carefully tucking my dick back into my boxers and wincing as I worked the zipper up. Fuck the button.
After closing the door behind me, I stalked through the house, Scout circling my ankles, and threw open the front door, ready to tell off the religious cult or tree trimming service. Instead, I found my brothers. All three of them.