Chapter 24
SADIE
I wake up feeling deliciously sore and exhausted in the best possible way. There’s no erasing the smile on my face, or the residual tingle between my legs from Maverick’s scruff as he made me come on his mouth over and over again. I lost count after round three…
But then I roll over, and instead of the sexy, sinful man who made me hoarse from screaming his name last night, there are only tangled sheets and an empty pillow.
I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest, listening carefully, but hearing only silence.
It wasn’t all a dream. I know that, my body tells me that, and the faint musky scent of a night filled with sex hangs in the air.
So where is he?
My brain is starting to fire with all kinds of scenarios, none of them good.
Then, I hear the sound of a door opening.
I grab the first piece of clothing I can find, which happens to be one of Maverick’s shirts.
Ignoring how it catches over my breasts and barely covers my ass, I cautiously open the bedroom door, trying to determine whether it’s him or not.
You dummy, who else would it be? Drawing in a deep breath, I pad softly down the hall to the open living space, and there he is.
His back is to me, but the gray tank he’s wearing still makes me want to bite my lip. The way it clings to his muscular back and displays his ink and strong arms is making me wish I’d put on my panties with the slippery situation happening between my legs.
He turns, seeing me, and the tiny smile on his face morphs into something else when he takes in my outfit.
“Holy hell,” he grounds out, crossing the space that separates us in just a few steps. His hand catches the hem of his shirt, and using it, he tugs me closer. “Morning, Specs.”
His reaction to seeing me goes a long way to dispelling the insidious thoughts I had when I woke up alone. Feeling bold, I loop my arms around his neck, making the shirt ride even higher. And of course, that drags his hand that’s still clutching the shirt up my bare legs.
“Morning,” I whisper, going to lean in for a kiss when I suddenly remember something.
“Oh crap. Morning breath.” I clap my hand over my mouth and snap my head back.
But Maverick’s free hand lands on my throat and he’s then he’s kissing me, his tongue plunging into my mouth, without a care for fuzzy teeth or stinky breath.
When we finally break apart, I’m panting heavily, and that tiny smile is a full-on satisfied smirk.
“If you’re gonna worry about something stupid like morning breath, don’t go walking around in nothing but my shirt.”
His hand squeezes my bare ass to emphasize his point and I let out an undignified squeak.
“It was the first thing I could find to put on!”
“Did I say I was complaining?”
I can feel the heat turning my cheeks red. And against my better judgment, I blurt out, “Dirk wouldn’t let me kiss him until I’d brushed my teeth. I guess old habits and all that.”
His smirk is gone, replaced by a scowl. “Don’t mention that shitstain’s name when you’re wearing my clothes and looking well fucked.”
Did my knees just wobble? They might have. Because that was hands down the hottest thing anyone has said to me. Ever.
“You want breakfast? I just had omelets with my neighbor, it’s what we do every Saturday. But I can make you one.”
The abrupt change in both subject and tone has me giving my head a slight shake.
“Wait. You have omelets with your neighbor every Saturday?” I ask.
Maverick shifts to lean against the counter, letting his hands fall from my body. “Yeah. He’s in his seventies, doesn’t get out much. But he looks after Cat when I travel. We have a standing breakfast date every weekend I’m in town.”
He sounds almost bashful admitting this to me, and I feel like I’ve been given an exclusive peek behind the heavy curtain of privacy Maverick keeps wrapped around his entire personal life.
“That’s lovely,” I say, smiling. “And I would love an omelet.” That earns me another small smile before he turns and starts doing something with the items I am only just realizing are on the counter beside him.
“Coffee?” he asks over his shoulder as he chops up a green pepper. “I’ve already had one with Ralph but could use another if you wanted some.”
“I’m on it,” I reply, moving to grab the coffee pot.
The sink is right next to where he’s working, and when I come up beside him to fill the carafe with water, his lips land on the top of my head.
It’s so sweet, so domestic, so unexpected, I have to hide my grin of surprise.
Is this another side of Maverick no one else gets to see?
The side that has breakfast with an elderly neighbor, takes in stray cats, and kisses the top of my head just because I’m near him?
Because if it is, I’m here for it. All of it.
I get the coffee going, then quickly go to pull on some underwear.
While I’m in the bedroom, I have a brief debate with myself.
Should I get dressed, or should I stay in just his shirt?
In the end, the way he responded to seeing me in his clothes has me feeling so good, I decide to stay like this with the only addition being a pair of panties.
There’s something about eating breakfast bare-assed that I can’t quite make myself do.
Ducking into the bathroom, I muffle my shriek of dismay at what I see in the mirror. How in the hell did he not run for the hills when he saw me?
My makeup from last night is smeared under my eyes, my hair is a rat’s nest. Good Lord. I brush my teeth, scrub my face clean, and attempt to run a brush through my hair. As I’m working the last tangle free, Maverick appears in the reflection, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom.
“Breakfast is ready,” he says, not even bothering to hide the way he drags his gaze up and down my body.
I stare at him through the mirror until his eyes meet mine.
He breaks first, turning without another word and walking back to the kitchen.
With one final check that I no longer look like the worst morning after possible, I follow after him into the kitchen that now boasts the aroma of fresh coffee and a savoury breakfast.
My stomach lets out a loud rumble and my arms immediately wrap around it, as if I could muffle the sound.
But Maverick just chuckles. “Guess you worked up an appetite last night.” He shoots me a wink, then gestures to the bar-height counter where two plates of food sit.
“I thought you already ate?” I ask as I lift myself onto one of the stools. He takes the other.
“Yeah, but I’m always hungry. Figured I’d keep you company.”
Yet again, it’s such a simple, sweet gesture, my heart melts.
We eat breakfast quickly. Maverick's an incredible cook; my omelet is full of flavour and perfectly fluffy.
My plate has just a few bites left, and I want to savour them slowly when I hear my phone vibrating somewhere. I’ve got zero intention of answering it until I’m done eating, but Maverick says, “It’s been going off for a while, ever since you went to brush your teeth.”
My stomach falls. The last time my phone went crazy was when the news broke about our fake relationship. What could it be this time?
I climb off my stool and locate my evening bag quickly, removing my phone. And I breathe a sigh of relief.
“It’s just my mom.”
I walk back to the counter and hop up on my stool before opening her text messages.
MOM: Alright Sadie, your dad says I shouldn’t bug you but how long must I wait?
MOM: When do we get to meet this new man of yours?
MOM: The photos of the two of you at the gala last night are wonderful.
MOM: You look radiant.
MOM: I’m just so happy for you.
MOM: But I want to meet this man!
MOM: Dinner. Tonight. Non negotiable.
MOM: Love you
“That’s a lot of messages.”
I look up at Maverick, placing my phone face down on the counter so he can’t read them. “Yeah, Mom hasn’t quite figured out that you don’t need to send a separate message for every sentence. In her mind, there’s a word limit or something.”
He chuckles. “So are we going?”
“Going where?” Crap. So much for him not reading the messages.
“To dinner. With your parents.”
I gulp. “Do you really want to do that?”
Spinning toward me in his seat, Maverick folds his arms across his chest and studies me. “Do you want to?”
My heart starts to pound. This feels like more than just a conversation about dinner with my parents.
“I…I do, I mean, my mom wants to meet you, and I’ve been dodging her requests for a while, so…” I trail off, my mouth suddenly dry. “But only if you really want to. We don’t have to. The gala was meant to be the end.”
There. I said it. Hopefully, Maverick can also see there’s more at stake than dinner with my parents. Hopefully, last night meant something to him. Hopefully…he doesn’t want our arrangement to end, but rather to change.
Because I don’t want to be in a fake relationship with Maverick King anymore.
I want to be in a real one.
His answer comes swiftly. In one move, I’m lifted off my stool and brought onto his lap, my legs spreading wide to straddle his. One hand goes to the back of my neck, tangling in my hair, while the other lands on my lower back, pushing me in closer to him.
He draws close, then pauses, his lips hovering over mine. Our foreheads meet, and my eyes flutter closed as I wait.
“I’m not ready for us to end.”