11. Mckenna
ELEVEN
MCKENNA
I lose myself in Mav’s kiss.
His hot mouth, his guttural groan.
The feel of his hands on my waist, my back, my ass.
His lips drop to press kisses along my jawline, down the column of my neck.
I toss my head back and close my eyes.
My nerve endings are already on fire.
“Wait,” he pants, ripping his mouth from the side of my neck.
“What’s wrong?” My eyes fly open.
Worry knots in my stomach and a sense of foreboding darts up my spine.
“If I do something, anything, that…” Mav’s face twists, pain blazing across his expression.
“I don’t want to mess this up with you.”
His sincerity, his concern for me, wraps around me and I settle into the feeling.
This man is my husband.
How could I have ever looked at him and not seen the depths he hides with humor?
I cup his cheek. “You can’t mess this up. It’s you.”
His eyes hold mine, pleading for direction.
“I’ll tell you if I need to stop,” I assure him.
“Promise me, Mckenna. I need you to communicate with me.”
“I promise. Now please, Maverick, kiss me.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer.
A smirk dances across his delectable mouth before his lips meet mine.
We kiss passionately, like we’ve been starved with need for each other.
I suppose, in some ways, we have.
Mav lowers me to the bed, and I pull him down with me.
His body shadows mine, broad and strong and protective.
I part my thighs to cradle Mav between them and he fits perfectly, the long length of his body hiding mine.
Our kiss turns less needy and more sensual.
Mav traps my bottom lip between his teeth, and I hook my ankles around his waist, dragging my core along his arousal.
He swears and clasps my hands, pinning them above my head.
“Everything with you is fucking magical,” Mav grunts.
My skin heats from his words and my heart beats faster.
The last time we did this, we were drunk on champagne and high on each other.
Riding the wave of our spontaneity.
This time, everything is different.
And yet, I’m not scared.
The starry sky and scent of bonfire don’t invade my mind.
Nothing can pull me out of the pools of Mav’s eyes, or the scent of his skin mixed with clear blue skies and a rushing waterfall.
I close my eyes as Maverick moves down my body.
He plucks at the strings of my bikini top and the fabric slips away.
The cool air of our bedroom washes over me and I shiver, feeling my nipples pebble from the cold.
In my next breath, I gasp, as the heat of Maverick’s mouth covers one breast and his large hand palms the other.
I moan, arching into him, my fingers threading through the short hair at the nape of his neck.
He swirls his tongue over the delicate peak, and I sigh.
His hand on my breast moves lower, fingertips brushing along my abdomen, before he tugs on the bow at my waist. My bikini bottoms shift and then, his hand is there, parting my center.
His fingers drag through my slick folds, and I cry out.
“You okay, beauty?” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the underside of my breast.
“Please don’t stop.”
“Never,” he promises, as his fingers sweep over my core.
“Christ, you’re fucking perfect, Mckenna.”
His words turn me on as much as his movements.
He touches me skillfully, paying close attention to the sounds I make.
His mouth continues to kiss along the length of my body, and I sink deeper into the sensations he coaxes from me.
When his head disappears between my legs, I nearly weep.
No man has ever done this to me before.
I’ve never felt comfortable or safe.
But with Maverick… “Wait,” I murmur, leaning up on an elbow.
He stops immediately, his head popping up and his eyes meeting mine.
“You okay?”
“I want you to know, Mav…” I breathe heavily.
“That you’re the first. That no one has ever…” I gesture toward where he’s positioned.
A slow grin works its way over his mouth.
“Ever?”
I shake my head.
“Then lie back, beauty, and let me make you come.”
I drop back instantly and in the next blink, my body arches off the bed as Maverick drags his tongue right through my center.
“Oh, God,” I exclaim, clenching the fabric of the comforter in my hand.
Maverick’s hands grip my inner thighs as he begins to lick, nip, and suck my clit.
He applies varying degrees of pressure, and I can literally feel my want for him drip down before he laps it up.
“Fuck, you’re sweet,” he moans.
“Maverick,” I pant.
“Tell me what you want, beauty.”
“You,” I admit.
“Always you.”
I can hear the smile in his voice as he replies, “Want to make you come for me first.”
And then, his tongue is back, two of his fingers are dipping inside of me, and I’m climbing higher and higher toward a peak I’ve never crested before.
I break apart wildly, my body seeming to come undone at the seams.
“Maverick,” I gasp, as my body shudders.
“Fuck, Mckenna,” Mav whispers, kissing my inner thigh.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
“I need you, Mav.” I reach for him.
He sated the throb between my legs but there’s still an emptiness gnawing to be filled.
And I want him to fill it.
He slides back up my frame, one hand cupping my cheek as he peers directly into my eyes.
“Are you sure about this?”
“You’re my husband, Maverick. And I love you,” I tell him seriously.
“Please.”
“Fuck.” The most beautiful expression I’ve ever witnessed crosses his face.
It’s like the blossoming of a flower, the first rays of daybreak, and the purity of snowfall all rolled into one.
“I love you, Mckenna. I love you so fucking much.” He dips down to kiss me.
Then, he loses his bathing suit and the length of his cock, so fucking hard, springs free.
Before I can comment on the size of him, or wonder how he’s going to fit, he positions himself at my entrance and slides home, both of us crying out with pleasure.
He holds himself still for a beat.
“You good, baby?”
“Yes.” I flatten my palms against his back, wanting to feel as much of his body as possible.
Already, my body is tightening, my want growing, my need climbing.
Maverick begins to move, and the pace is delicious.
He keeps us both on the edge as he pours sweet words down my throat.
“You’re my wife, Mckenna. Mine. And I’ll make love to you every damn day for the rest of our lives.”
I whimper, my hips lifting upwards to meet his thrusts.
We come together beautifully, passionately, desperately.
And as I orgasm a second time, Maverick pumps into me faster.
Then, he’s hollering my name and I’m holding him closer, erasing any space between us.
We’re lost in our love.
Together. Always.
“I got you, beauty. I’m yours,” Maverick whispers in my ear.
I turn my face to kiss him.
“And I’m yours.”
We smile at each other and a blanket of relief settles over me.
My husband loves me.
I’m not broken. I’m not a victim.
I’m brave and courageous.
I’m a survivor.
“You handled those paparazzi like a champ,” Mav says as he passes me the bar of soap.
We’re in the steamy shower, washing off after what is undeniably one of the best days of my life.
“Oh, them?” I flick my wrist, giggling.
“That was nothing.”
“Look at you; you’re a natural.”
“Well, I’m trying.”
Mav smirks but his eyes are serious when they meet mine.
He brushes my hair away from my face and bends his knees a little to bring us eye level.
“You don’t have to try, baby. You can lean on me if it gets to be too much.”
“I know,” I admit.
“But fame is a big part of your life. And if we’re going to be together, I need to manage that too.”
“Yeah,” Mav agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“I’m proud of you, Mckenna.”
I sigh.
“I wish we could stay here forever, Mav.” I step closer to him, and he wraps a strong arm around me, pressing our naked, soapy bodies together.
“Just the two of us.”
“Me too, beauty. I’m scared of the reality that awaits us.”
I pull back.
“Because of our marriage?”
A cloud passes through his sky-blue eyes.
He shakes his head. Works a swallow.
“Because of…”
Understanding dawns and I know he doesn’t want to say Bran’s name.
I rest my palm on Maverick’s chest. “Don’t be. We’ll handle it—him—together.”
“Promise?” Mav asks, and I realize how much this affects him too.
“Yes,” I say. “I didn’t realize… I never asked. How are you doing, Mav? With…everything?”
“Don’t worry about me, beauty.” He tries for levity, but he can’t quite grasp it.
Instead, he repositions us under the hot spray of the showerhead.
“Tell me.”
Mav sighs.
“I don’t want you to worry about me. Not when you have so much on your mind.”
“We need to communicate,” I remind him.
He regards me for a long moment, before closing his eyes and tipping his head back.
The water washes the shampoo from his hair, and I give him a few minutes.
We both finish showering.
Mav flips off the showerhead and wraps me in a big, white, fluffy bath towel before he shrugs into a robe.
“My head’s all over the place,” he admits in a quiet voice.
“I fucking hate that he hurt you. I hate that anyone hurt you, put their hands on you, fucking took something from you that you weren’t offering.”
“I know you do.” I touch his arm.
“And it means everything to me that you know the truth. That you’re on my team.”
“I’ll never not be on your team.”
“I know that too.”
He wraps his arms around me and hugs me to his chest. “I’m scared about when we get back to Boston too. I don’t know where we go from here.”
“Today was wonderful,” I admit.
“When I’m with you, Mav, I feel...”
“What?” He pulls back to look at me.
“Whole. Not broken.”
“You’re not broken, beauty.”
I scrunch my nose.
“Right now, I feel that way.”
Mav watches me intently.
“When I’m with you, I’m happy,” I continue.
“I’m happy too, baby. You make me happier than I ever thought possible. I love you, beauty. And no matter what, we’re in this together.”
I nod in confirmation and snuggle deeper into his embrace.
Then, I press a kiss to his chest, where the fabric of his robe parts.
“I love you too, Mav.”
I turn to give one last, lingering look at the Azores.
Even if it’s just the airport.
Because once we board the plane, we’ll be saying goodbye to the bubble we’ve wrapped ourselves in for the past ten days and saying hello to the reality that awaits us.
“Come on, baby.” Mav reaches for my hand.
I let him take it and guide me through the check-in and security process.
Once we’re seated beside each other in first class, Mav smiles at me.
“Thanks for a beautiful honeymoon.”
I snort.
“Thank you, Mav.”
“We got this,” he reminds me, but it almost sounds like he’s assuring himself.
“I know,” I agree. “I just hope no more surprises await us. Lately, things feel like one step forward, two steps backward.” I pause, collecting my thoughts.
I want to be as honest and transparent with Mav as I can be.
“We started as reluctant roommates.”
He grins at that.
“Then, your scandal, which led to our fake dating. That turned into a spontaneous marriage in Vegas and the next day, I recalled all this past trauma. We’re finally in a good place and in another week, I start the semester and have classes with Bran and?—”
“Don’t,” Mav warns, shaking his head.
His eyes dart around the first-class cabin but no one is paying us attention.
I reach for Mav’s hand and lace our fingers together.
I need him to acknowledge what we’re up against.
Mav pulls a shaky breath in, his nostrils flaring.
He stares straight ahead as he tries to control the emotions he’s battling.
He tilts his neck to the side, cracking it.
His breathing is audible and harsh.
In fact, his anger emanates from his pores, coloring the space with a tension I can taste.
“Mckenna, I have to ask you something,” he says, turning toward me.
“Okay.”
“Are you going to press charges?” His voice is barely above a whisper.
Mav’s lips are pressed into a thin slash of anger but his eyes bleed with pain.
“Press charges?” I repeat, dumbfounded.
Realization dawns and I shudder, shaking my head slowly.
“Maverick, it was two years ago.”
“So fucking what?” he implores.
“He deserves to be punished for what he did to you. You can’t seriously sit beside him in class now that you remember that night. You’ll drive yourself insane.”
I close my eyes, hearing the logic in his words but not wanting to accept them.
Not wanting to relive and rehash the past any more than I already have.
“I’m so close to graduating,” I whisper.
Now, my eyes dart around the small space.
This is not the place to have this conversation and yet, we can’t exactly put a lid on it either.
Mav closes his eyes as if he doesn’t want me to read the hurt in them.
The blood drains from his face.
But when I try to pull my hand away, he grasps it harder.
I watch as his shoulders slump and acceptance washes over his expression.
When he opens his eyes, they’re shaded in resignation.
“Okay, love. Okay. Tell me what you need. How can I make this better for you?”
I want to weep at his understanding.
Relief flows through my limbs, and I squeeze his fingers.
He presses mine back in a silent show of support.
“Just you,” I say seriously.
“I need to know that we’re navigating this together.”
His expression softens and he leans closer to kiss my forehead.
“You have me. I’m yours and I’m here for you.”
I bite my bottom lip and tell him the truth.
“I need you to be my husband and my friend. My best friend. Someone I can count on and trust. Someone I won’t hurt as I work through all my complicated emotions.”
He shakes his head.
“Is that what you’re worried about, Mckenna? You think you’ll hurt me?”
“I think I’ll hurt everyone who gets too close to me,” I admit.
I turn in my seat, angle my body closer to Mav’s as I lower my voice.
“I’m so scared. I’m worried Bran damaged me and ruined my chances of having a normal, healthy relationship. I’m terrified I’ll mess up anyone who loves me. That I’ll mess up with you, Mav, and ruin our marriage before it truly has a chance to start.”
He shakes his head, his eyes ringed in sadness.
“That’s not true. Trust me, I’m the fuckup in my group. The people who love you and care for you stick even when you don’t want them to.”
I work a swallow, wanting to believe his words.
“I’m gonna stick, Mckenna.” He cups my cheek.
“And I’ll prove that to you with time. For now, we work through everything together. I’m your husband and your best friend and the man you can count on and trust.”
“Thank you,” I say, gratitude coloring my words.
Mav drops his forehead to rest against mine.
“Don’t thank me, Mckenna. I’d do anything for you. Any goddamn thing. Believe that.”
“I do,” I say sincerely.
He smiles. “I’m in love with you, my wife.”
“Aww,” a woman walking down the center of the aisle murmurs.
I straighten to look at her and smile as she stares at us, one hand pressed against her chest.
“Louise, stop bugging them!” a man, I assume her husband, says behind her.
But Louise’s smile widens.
“Albert and I have been married forty years,” she tells us, reaching behind to grasp Albert’s arm.
Albert rolls his eyes but he’s grinning.
“Don’t bore them!”
“Not at all,” Mav says, grinning at Louise.
“Congratulations. I hope we make it to forty years.”
“You will.” Louise nods with certainty.
“The way you two look at each other? That’s true love.”
“Louise,” Albert whines.
Louise leans forward.
“Congratulations on your marriage! I saw the photos in the paper. And my darling, you are a vision in green.”
“Ma’am, you’re blocking the aisle,” a flight attendant says, her tone impatient.
Louise waves a dismissive wrist. “Best wishes to you both.”
“Thank you, Louise,” I say, meaning it.
We exchange a smile before she keeps moving down the aisle.
Mav and I hold hands, and he squeezes lightly.
“Well, Louise has spoken,” he jokes.
“Looks like I’m it for you the next forty years,” I tease back.
“I can only hope to be so lucky, Mckenna.”
“Me too, Mav. Me too.”