Chapter 18
BOONE
Why am I touching Maverick like this? I absolutely shouldn’t be, and certainly not while I’m keeping such a huge secret from him. I should be backing away. I should end this.
But there’s not a single part of me that’s capable of doing so. I’ve been dying to touch him, and I can’t pull back now.
Maybe for longer than I’ve been willing to admit.
“Kiss me again, Boone. Please just fucking kiss me already.”
The desire in Maverick’s eyes, the way his entire body is pleading for my touch…my control snaps. Slipping my hands from his, I cup the back of his neck, pulling him down, reaching up. I bump my nose against his because I know it’ll make him smile.
He does. It’s everything.
Finally, finally, I press my lips to his.
And it’s the Sistine Chapel. The finger of God, the creation of the universe. It’s warmth and heat and sweetness, enough to make my teeth ache.
He’s still smiling.
“How am I supposed to kiss you when you’re smiling like that?”
Maverick pulls back, looking down at me with a troublemaker grin. Closing his eyes, he pulls his fingers down in front of his face, dropping the smile with the gesture. Shimmying his shoulders again, he takes a deep breath.
“What are you doing?” I ask, the laugh tripping across my tongue. I can’t remember ever feeling so light.
“Shhh,” he says, his eyes still closed. “I’m putting on my serious face so you’ll keep kissing me.”
I toss my head back, laughing. “You are impossible.”
“Something tells me you like impossible.”
I do. I really do.
I grab his shirt and yank him in for another kiss. Hot and soft, his muscles give way so quickly that I have to adjust my stance to prevent us from tripping over ourselves. Then adjust again to make sure he knows he’s safe to melt into my arms.
The first kiss was a revelation, but this one… This one is an excavation. He kisses me back, revealing the deep well of passion he’s hidden beneath the smiles and the jokes.
This is not the kiss of a boy who doesn’t know how to control his pecker. This is the kiss of a man who knows exactly what he wants.
And I’m ridiculously lucky to be the one he’s wanted for a long, long time.
Maverick’s larger body is fucking amazing, and his smile between the kisses is so much like sunshine that I barely register the wind whipping around us.
We kiss and kiss until someone whistles at us from a passing car. “Get a room, you two!”
It’s my turn to smile against his lips. “That’s what I get for living so close to the university.”
Mav ducks his chin, then goes in for more kisses. Like he’s hungry, like I’m the first drink of water he’s had in days. Reluctantly, I pull away again, pushing my forehead to his.
“Fuck.”
“Invite me up, Boone.” He rubs his cheek against mine. “We don’t have to do anything. I just wanna make out with you somewhere more private.”
I’m sure Maverick’s had more than his fair share of sexual partners and experiences, but he’s so guileless. I genuinely think he’s telling the truth. He wants to make out with me, and now I want that more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.
I lift my chin to the second floor and hold out my hand.
If I thought he was smiling before, that has nothing on his broad, eager grin as he takes my hand in his.
I take a second to look at him. Really look at him.
The gorgeous muscles, the handsome features, the shiny curls whipped around by the wind.
How are we still outside? It feels like we’re in our own little bubble.
Finally, I lead us toward the staircase, the metallic groan now doubled under his footsteps. We reach my door, and I can’t tell if it took thirty seconds or thirty years. Time doesn’t seem to be working right now.
A loud meow on the other side of the door shakes me out of my trance.
“Careful of Dame Lansbury,” I warn him. “She’s a big cat.”
“Is she going to try to escape?” he asks, sweetly worried.
“No. She judges the outdoors.” I grimace. “And she will judge you too.”
Mav laughs. “Wait. Lansbury as in…Angela Lansbury?”
I nod as I swing the door open. “You know Murder She Wrote?”
“Sure, but my fathers love Gaslight,” he answers softly, his expressive eyes taking in the art, the thrift store privacy screen that separates my bed from the living area, and the leggy plants dotting my small, dark apartment.
“That’s my favorite movie,” I say, my voice husky.
Maverick’s height and heft stand out in the small space, his radiant energy taking up all the oxygen. Our gazes snare on each other as he nudges the door closed with his foot. His eyes turn to half-moons as they land on my massive, judgy cat.
“Oh, you weren’t kidding. Dame Lansbury is unimpressed.”
“Unimpressed is better than most people get,” I say, kissing his shoulder through his T-shirt. “It means she likes you.”
“Mm.” He unzips his bag and flashes something purple. “Maybe I should tell her that my tyrant of a professor just advanced me to purple belt.”
“Professor—as in Brazilian jiu-jitsu?” I ask, surprised.
Maverick beams, so proud of himself. Fuck, he should be.
“Congratulations.”
I wrap my arm around his waist and go in for another kiss.
Outside, I was able to ignore the wind whipping around us, but now, in the relative quiet of my apartment, I’m swept up in even the smallest sound.
The slick sound of our lips meeting, the swish of fabric I wish we weren’t wearing, the small, happy groans coming from the back of Maverick’s throat.
He looks behind us and angles us past the folding screen until my calves hit the soft duvet. He pulls away, smiling broadly.
“I thought we were just making out,” I remind him, breathless.
He falls backward onto the mattress. “I don’t know about you, but making out is so much better when there’s room to maneuver.”
Good point.
Dropping onto the bed, I cover him with my body as I meet him again in a kiss.
I let my weight settle on him, happy to be reminded of his solidity. It’s one thing to see his muscles in outline, to brush against him. It’s quite another to feel their power underneath me. Even with his physical attributes, Mav’s body is soft with submission.
An invitation.
Straddling his hips, I adjust, nudging against his hardness with mine.
“You’re so beautiful,” I say, cupping his jaw.
“And you’re one of the sexiest men I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I flush at the compliment, then dive in, kissing him, rolling my hips. Something about his body is… I know exactly how to touch him. How to draw out more of those beautiful sounds.
I could do this with him all night.
The next time we come up for air, I shift to my side, hand on his chest as it rises and falls.
“Is this real life?” he asks, turning to me, his eyes bright. “Am I really kissing my Booney?”
A small hit of guilt streaks through my belly. This means so much to him.
“We’ve already kissed,” I say, kissing him softly. “By the fountain.”
“Hm. I wondered if you’d ever admit that you kissed me back.”
“Of course I kissed you back. Have you seen you?”
He flushes, then pulls me in for more hungry kisses. I promise myself I will tell him about me. About who I really am.
Soon.
“Booney, my Booney,” he murmurs, and I pull back, rolling my eyes at the stupid nickname.
“Why do you call me that?”
“Because you’re from the boonies of West Texas.”
My mouth falls open. “Wait. Really? That’s the reason?”
“I was fifteen when I came up with it.” He shrugs. “It’s super cute and maybe even a little sexy when you think about it.”
I shake my head. “How is that even sexy to you?”
“I don’t question, I just accept.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Besides, you still slip and call me Rune from time to time.”
“All my memories of you are inextricably linked with that night.” I point to a stray coil. “Is it okay to ask if I can…?”
He grins and reaches back, shaking loose a cascade of shiny black curls tipped in gold. “Go for it. I love having my hair played with.”
“You look like a lion,” I say, gently sliding my fingers in along his hairline. “Wow. Even softer than it looks.”
“You should see it by the end of summer. Between the sun and the water, it bleaches out quite a bit.” He kisses me as I lose my fingers in the glorious curls. “So…by that night, I assume you mean the night at your cabin when I embarrassed myself?”
I shake my head, pushing a stray curl off his forehead. “You have no idea how beautiful you were that night. Earnest. Like a lyric. And I just think you have one of the most poetic names on the planet.”
“So you did think I was hot back then,” he says, popping his eyebrows. “Pervert.”
I laugh. “Sorry, but…I did not.” I run my thumb over his perfect cheekbone, then stroke his jawline. “You were too young for me to think of you like that, but I could see you. It bothered me that you approached me, actually.”
“Really?”
“Of course it did,” I say, kissing his forehead, then the tip of his nose, then the tip of his chin.
“My dad raised me to be respectful of people, and to respect their age, and what that meant for where they were in life. But not everybody is like that. Some creepy guy could’ve taken advantage of you. I was scared for you.”
I think back, wishing I had given Maverick a warning, or at least warned his parents. But I’d just met my birth father that day, and my brain was still a scrambled mess.
Sigh.
Another reminder of why this is so very complicated.
“Hey. Where’d you go?” Mav asks, his hand sliding over my hip.
“Not all the things that make this problematic are resolved by you getting older,” I admit.
His eyes slide off to the side. “True.”
“And it doesn’t seem like either of us much wants to talk about those complications.”
“I absolutely do not.” He grimaces. “Cannot,” he clarifies.
I’m curious what he means by that, but his eyes are too pretty to care.
I lay kisses from his square shoulder down to the curve of his biceps. “You’ll know mine soon enough, but I need to talk to someone else first.”
“Sounds serious,” Maverick murmurs, kissing the top of my head.