Chapter 27
SADIE
“We’re goin’ out, Specs.”
I look up from my computer to see Maverick leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest. “We are?”
He pushes off the wall and nods as he walks over to me.
Slowly, his eyes locked on mine, he pushes my laptop shut as he leans forward, one hand landing on the back of the couch, next to my head.
“Yeah. So go put on that purple dress from the wedding. The one that drove me crazy wanting to touch you in ways I couldn’t back then.
” He drops his head even closer to my ear, his whisper hot against my skin. “Because tonight, I can.”
I hold back a whimper as he pulls away, a smirk on his face. The jerk knows how he’s affecting me right now, all dirty promises and barely-there touches that make me want to pant for more.
Since admitting to each other we wanted to stay together for real, we’ve been insatiable. Every moment we’re both at the apartment is spent naked, except for when I manage to be strong enough to deny him so I can get some work done.
I could go back to the office. Gus wants me back there. But I kind of like working from here, enjoying stolen moments with Maverick when he’s not at the stadium for practice or a rehab session.
Every time I make him smile, it feels like a little victory.
Especially since those smiles are becoming more and more frequent.
When he puts his arms around me, I feel safe.
Cared for. And the rare moments he lets his guard down, resting his head on my stomach and letting me play with his hair, it’s all I can do not to melt.
Slowly, he’s softening. Opening to me. To us.
And it’s incredible to see the change. Willow commented on it the other day over a glass of wine.
He’s been smiling at practice and even joined some of the guys for lunch at Maura’s diner.
I won’t take credit for the changes in him, though. That’s all his doing, his choosing to let go of his demons and find a way forward that comes from a healthier, happier place.
Setting my computer down, I stand up and walk to find him in the bathroom, running his fingers through his hair, making sure the curls sit just right. I wrap my arms around him from behind, laying my head on his back.
“Will you tell me where we’re going?” I ask pertly, grateful he can’t see my excited smile. But of course, the darn man senses my excitement, judging by his chuckle.
“Do you really want to know?”
He spins around, his hands coming under my arms to lift me up. My legs wrap around his waist as I let him carry me into the bedroom, where he sets me down on top of his dresser.
I’m wearing just a thin pair of leggings and he’s in jeans.
The press of his pelvis against mine makes me want to grind into him.
He’s turning me into…I don’t know what. A wanton, desire-driven, pleasure-seeking woman who is so different from how I was just a few weeks ago.
She’s unfamiliar, yet exciting. A welcome change.
“Keep doing that and we’ll never leave,” he growls, and I just give him an impish smirk.
“Maybe that’s my plan.”
His lips press against mine, bruisingly hard. But he lifts away before I can even get my arms around his neck, and this time I don’t hold back my sound of protest.
“Get. Dressed.” He squeezes my thighs before stepping away, going to the closet and grabbing the hanger that holds the lavender dress from Heidi and Max’s wedding. I watch him lay it out on the bed before he strides over to the drawer where I finally unpacked some of my clothes.
I let out a small eeep when he pulls out a cream-coloured set of panties and strapless bra, and he smirks at me as he puts it on top of the dress.
“You have five minutes, Specs.”
I wait until the door closes behind him before letting my upper body sag against the wall, a delirious grin on my face. That man…
But after only a few seconds, I hop off the dresser and do as I’ve been asked. I don’t have any desire to disappoint Maverick or mess up whatever plans he has for tonight. Especially since I have a feeling those plans are going to involve a lot of orgasms.
With likely only seconds to spare, I give myself one final look in the mirror before grabbing a pair of sandals and opening the bedroom door. “Ready!” I announce as I walk out into the living room, coming to an abrupt stop.
Standing in front of me is Maverick King.
Holding flowers.
“Are those for me?” I ask stupidly, taking a slow step toward him. He chuffs out a laugh and closes the distance between us, cupping my chin and kissing me softly.
“Of course they are. Cat would just eat them.”
I smile against his lips, kissing him a few more times, short and sweet pecks that are just enough to make his grip tighten before I step back. Holding out my hands, I make a gimme, gimme motion. He passes the bouquet and I lift it to my face, inhaling deeply.
“They’re beautiful, thank you.”
I lift a hand to brush down his cheek, and he turns to press a kiss to my palm.
He’s a man of few words, but what he doesn’t say with his voice, he conveys with his actions. And as I learn his language, I find myself falling deeper and deeper.
To my surprise, when we walk out of the apartment and enter the elevator, Maverick doesn’t push the button for the lobby. Rather, he presses the one for the very top floor. But when I look at him, his face is unreadable.
We exit the elevator into a hallway much like the one on Maverick’s floor. I let him guide me to the end where he opens a door that leads to a stairwell. My confusion is replaced by absolute wonder when he holds open the door at the top of the stairs and I step out onto the rooftop.
“Oh my goodness,” I murmur, hardly knowing where to look first. Candles are flickering all around me.
There must be hundreds of them: tall pillars and shorter votives in glass holders.
Maverick laces his hand with mine and draws me forward, along a path through the candles to the center of the space.
There’s what looks to be a set of outdoor furniture, a low table and small two-seater couch.
And on the table is a silver bucket with a bottle chilling on ice, two glasses, and two covered plates.
I sit down, my gaze still darting all around.
There’s small lights strung up around the perimeter, adding to the candlelight, so the entire space is bathed in soft, warm light.
From up here, the sounds of the city are muffled, and when Maverick clicks on something behind me, the gentle radiating warmth of the outdoor heater adds to the feeling of being in our own little world, away from everyone and everything else.
“This is incredible.” I take his hand when he finally sits next to me and lean over to kiss him. “Thank you.”
He gives me a bashful smile before pouring two glasses of wine. Handing me one, he lifts his to me in a cheer. “To us.”
The simple toast has me fighting back tears. His transformation from a reclusive, misunderstood man into a romantic one is so dramatic it still takes me aback.
I sip my wine to save me from saying anything and to buy some time to control my emotions. For all that he’s put into this amazing night, I somehow know he’s not ready for me to say the words of how I feel about him.
When I lower my wine glass back to the table, I’m more composed. Until, that is, he lifts the cover off the plates in front of us. Then I can’t contain my delighted laugh.
“How did you know?” I ask, already lifting my fork, eager to dig into the somehow still-steaming hot dish of what appears to be my absolute favourite meal.
“Willow asked your friend Ali.” He looks at me with such satisfaction and pride as I lift a forkful of gooey macaroni and cheese to my lips. “It’s from a local place that does southern cooking. Darling told me it was good.”
I let out an embarrassing moan when the flavours explode on my tongue. “Oh my God, it’s so good.” I take another bite, and another, before looking over to him, realizing he hasn’t touched his food. “Okay, you need to eat, too, or this is going to get awkward really fast.”
Instead of answering, Maverick leans over and kisses me. Then his tongue darts out and licks the corner of my mouth. “You had a little sauce…” He sits back and smirks. “But you’re right. It is good.”
He picks up his fork and starts to eat, staring at me with such heated intensity I don’t know if it’s the patio heater or him making me feel like I’m about to combust. I turn my attention to my food, trying to distract myself from the desire building inside of me.
Then his hand lands on my thigh, stilling me with slow strokes of his thumb.
He’s no longer staring at me, now seemingly focused on his own meal.
But his thumb is inching higher and higher until my food is forgotten as I try not to pant and gasp, not to shift and squirm to get his touch where I want it the most.
He brushes across my damp panties and my teeth sink into my lip.
“How’s your food, Specs?” His smirk tells me he knows exactly where my focus is right now.
“Maverick,” I whisper as his thumb slips under the edge of my panties.
All I hear is the clatter of a fork hitting the ground, and then he’s on his knees in front of me, shoving up the hem of my dress and spreading my legs.
“Fuck, Sadie. I thought I could do it. I thought I could give you this perfect night, woo you, be all romantic and shit. But I can’t keep my hands off you. I need you. Now.”
He doesn’t wait for me to say anything before dipping his head down and kissing me right over the top of my panties.
My hips lift off the couch to meet him, and he uses that second to pull the scrap of lace down, tossing them over his shoulder, thankfully missing the hundreds of still-burning candles.
His gaze returns to mine. And I lean forward, dragging my fingers through his curls.
“You have me.”