Chapter 30 Chloe #2
My head is shaking before he even finishes his sentence.
“I don’t,” I whisper, keeping my focus on my hands in my lap.
“I haven’t thought about him in weeks.” And it’s true.
When he texted me last weekend, I was thrown off, not because I couldn’t respond to him, but because I actually hadn’t thought about him.
“It just sucks to realize that I can give everything, every part of myself to someone, and still not be enough.”
There’s a quiet shuffle and then Maverick is on his knees in front of me. One hand curls around mine, warm and steady, the other tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Chloe baby, even on your worst days, you’re more than enough.”
I squeeze my eyes, not wanting any tears to slip out, and I shake my head because the words make my heart flip beneath my ribs, and that scares me more than anything, because how can I trust her anymore.
“I just feel like I wasted so much time, and he…he was never thinking about me.” I pull my lips between my teeth, attempting to bite back the sadness and reach for the thread of anger I want to feel for him. “I was always a last resort for him.”
“That’s how I know he’s an idiot. He shouldn’t have been able to sleep at night because his thoughts were so consumed by you.”
I huff a breathy laugh, but Maverick’s hand tightens around mine. “I’m serious, Chlo. I think about you all the time. All the fucking time.” His voice is so sincere, that even though I'm not sure I can trust myself, he leaves no room to question him.
I lift my head, only to find his eyes already waiting for me, and suddenly the room feels too warm for the goosebumps spreading across my arms. “You do?”
The column of his throat works, and he nods his head once.
“Yeah.” It comes out no more than a whisper, but it’s unmistakable, and when I tilt my head, silently asking him for more, he delivers.
“I think about you over the smallest things, like when I pass the library on my way to practice, or every dumb little rule that gets broken.”
I suck in my cheeks, attempting to hide my smile, but when Maverick’s lips lift at the corners, I know he saw me.
“I think about you when I set my alarm three hours earlier than I need to just so I can get up to see the sun break through the horizon and paint the sky in that perfect soft blue color.”
I don’t understand what his words mean, but I understand how my body reacts to him. His thumb brushes across the sensitive part of my wrist, and I’m certain he can feel my pulse exploding. His eyes never leave mine, sure and unflinching like he knows I wouldn’t look away even if I could.
“Those horoscopes I’ve been sending you? They didn’t magically appear on my phone. I saw one once and I looked up what yours was. Every time I see a horoscope, I look up yours, too.”
I let go of a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and slowly, the room around me begins to fade.
When I said I hadn’t thought about Nathan in weeks, the quiet truth was that I’ve spent almost every moment thinking about the man on his knees before me.
The way he pays attention but never makes a show about it.
How he makes space for me like I was always meant to be here.
The effortless way he’s been taking my breath away long before this moment.
His frosty blue eyes darken as they hold mine, and I physically feel the hum in the air as something unspoken passes through us.
“Anything else?”
His hands are already resting on my knees, but at my words, his thumbs press in a little tighter, inching higher up my inner thighs. If I wasn’t aware of him before, there is no denying him now as the touch of his fingers sends shivers up my spine.
“When I see you wearing those little cropped T-shirts—” His gaze drops to my chest and he bites down on his bottom lip, turning it pale as he drinks me in. “And your dusty pink nipples poke through the fabric, I think about how they would feel between my fingers…and in my mouth.”
My lips part on a shaky breath, and the way his gaze follows the movement sets my skin on fire.
“Whenever you do that,” he lifts a hand, his thumb brushing slowly along my bottom lip, and I forget how to breathe, “I think about the night we kissed,” he murmurs.
“I think about when the universe will deem me worthy enough to get to do it again.” I sit perfectly still, soaking in every word he’s saying.
Heat blooms across my cheeks before traveling low in my core, but I don’t have time to steady myself before he speaks again.
“I think about the sounds this mouth would make. And how my cock would look sliding between these perfect full lips.”
Maverick lowers his hand, intertwining his fingers with mine, anchoring me. “I think about the pads of these fingers digging into my back as you leave your mark on me.”
His thumb drifts up my inner thigh, slow and deliberate, and my body responds without a single thought. My legs part just enough to make room for him and to silently tell him to keep going.
“I think about these legs,” he continues, sliding his hands down, pressing firmly against my calves.
“These petite but strong legs—” His grip tightens in a way that can only be described as possessive.
“Wrapped around my waist as your heels dig into my back, urging me forward because you can’t get enough of me. ”
A shiver tears through me as his rough callouses trace upward, following the curves of my legs, my hips, my waist. When he reaches my face, cradling my jaw, my breath stutters.
He tips my head back just enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my lips when he whispers, “And when I fist my cock in the shower, panting your name as my cum runs down the shower wall, I wonder if you ever think about me, too.”
My heart rate quickens and the heat coursing my body consumes me. Everywhere Maverick touches me feels like a branding. Not just his hands on my skin, but I feel it down to my core. No one has ever spoken to me like this before.
I can’t tell if it’s because no one has ever seen me the way he seems to, or because in this moment, I finally feel the difference between being wanted and being truly desired.
It’s subtle, but with Nathan it was always about the attention he gave me, whereas with Maverick there’s intention behind everything.
For the first time that I can ever remember, I don’t just feel open, but I feel brave.
“Show me.”
Maverick’s eyes bounce between mine, like he’s trying to decide whether I’m serious or not.
After a moment, when I don’t say anything else, he slowly lets go of my face, standing to his full height.
His arms reach over his head, pulling his sweater off in one fluid motion, and suddenly, there’s nowhere safe to look.
He’s all weight and strength, solid muscle packed tight beneath his skin.
My eyes trace lower to the sharp V carved into his hips, but it’s his wrist that knocks the air from my lungs.
Hugging his wrist, blue like the morning sky just when the sun breaks, is my scrunchie.
“Tell me to stop.” He strokes the outline of his cock through his shorts with one hand and tucks his other thumb into his briefs with the other.
I don’t want to look away, but I also feel like I absolutely can’t be watching this. I peer up at him through my lashes and shake my head once.
Something deep reverberates from the back of his throat, and I drop my gaze just in time to see the tendons in his hand flex.
He pulls the waistband up and over, and my eyes widen when he grips the full length of himself.
“Holy shit, Mav. You’re—” The words die and mouth falls open as he grips the tip, giving himself a tight squeeze.
“Say it.”
“You’re huge.”
His hand slides down his length, so slowly it’s as if he’s giving me time to change my mind again.
I don’t. Instead, I wet my bottom lip, and the slow curve of the corner of his mouth tells me he likes that.
“Tell me, Chloe.” He strokes himself, measured and with restraint. “Would you scream my name?”
I try to respond, but I lose all train of thought when I notice the pool of precum now leaking from his tip. I squeeze my legs together, desperate for any kind of friction there. My hands twitch, and I can’t tell which need is heavier, the one to touch myself or the one to take over for him.
“Would you beg for it?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
His fist picks up the face, faster now, and each breath he takes comes out low and uneven. It’s raw and nothing like the easy calm I’ve come to know from him. He’s unraveling for me. Because of me.
“I’d be so fucking greedy for you, Chloe baby,” he murmurs. “Would you let me fuck you in all the ways I’ve imagined?” He reaches for my neck, fingers spreading down my throat, and his thumb catches my bottom lip.
“Yes.” My voice is practically begging now.
“Take your shirt off.”
I don’t think. I just do as he says, throwing my shirt behind me.
“Fuck, Chloe,” he grunts.
My fingers move on their own accord, latching around the claps of the pink lace covering my chest. I unhook and slide it down my arms, letting it pool at my feet.
His breath grows ragged as his pace quickens and I don’t know where to look. The strength in his forearms, the tension curling through his abs, or the impressively hard length of him.
Before I can think better of it, I reach for the backs of his thighs. His eyes find mine, recognition hitting him, and his grip tightens along the back of my neck.
“Chlo,” he breathes. “You gonna let me fuck that sweet little mouth of yours?”
“I want it to be an accurate representation of what you’ve been thinking about.”
For the first time, his eyes fall shut, like he’s holding back his restraint, but I wet my bottom lip, desperate for him to lose it.
I use my hold on him to pull myself forward and wrap my lips around him. My tongue slides through his slit at the tip and he jerks at the sensation.
“Fuck,” he grits out.
My cheeks hollow as I work him in and out, and I do something I’ve never done. I slide him to the back of my throat and peer up at him through my lashes, meeting his gaze.
I swirl my tongue and moan, and Maverick sucks air in between his teeth before gently pulling the hair at the back of my head.
He uses his hold on me to buck his hips forward and back.
He treats my mouth like his own personal play thing, and I take him as far back as I can, using my hand for the length that won’t fit.
His legs flex beneath my touch, and I gag as he thrusts further and deeper. I want more, though. I’ve never taken someone apart like this, and I can’t get enough.
“I’m going to come.”
“Mmm,” I moan around him again, and the vibration is enough that he pulls my hair, sliding out of my mouth. I’m left surprised, with my mouth still open, as he gives himself two rough strokes, before filling my open mouth with hot, slick spurts of his cum.
“Swallow it, Chloe.”
His breathing is uneven, but when I close my mouth, swallow, and then run my tongue along the length of my bottom lip, licking up every last drop, I swear he stops breathing entirely.