8. MADDOX
MADDOX
N ot gonna lie, I’m more than pleased with myself. Having Lyra show up at the door, looking for me, and not for a fuck fest, but something more . . . shit. It feels good. Whether she realizes what that means or not.
She had a rough night, and while I have questions, the fact that she came to me must mean something, because otherwise, the past week of me obsessing over this woman and camping out at Hunter’s place in the hope of running into her would all be for nothing.
I get it. I’m a fucking idiot. Hoping for something that will likely never happen, but she’s too fucking gorgeous not to.
She came to me.
Out of all the bastards she must have in her phone, just waiting for a call, she chose me.
That’s got to mean something, right? Sure, I know I’m probably delusional.
We don’t know anything about one another, and apart from a wildly incredible night up against a wall and some prime time flirting, there’s not much to base a relationship on, but I’m here for it. I want to get to know her. I need it.
Fuck, my ego is going to be fed for weeks to come.
We step out onto the sidewalk and the early morning air is much cooler than when I came through only a few short hours ago. The street is quieter than usual, and as I lead Lyra to my bike, I grab the helmet off my handlebars.
I pause beside the bike and lift it to her head, and she waits patiently as I fix it into place, my fingers brushing over her jaw as she stares up at me with those big green eyes, daring me to either sweep her away or bite her. I can’t really tell yet.
After fastening the buckle under her chin, I bop the top of her head and smile down at her. “Cute.”
“I look like a giant bobblehead.”
“A hot bobblehead.”
She steps up next to my bike, really looking it over, and I can all but read her thoughts. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Come on, let me drive.”
I bark out a laugh so fast I almost offend myself. “Hell no.”
She looks up at me with those big green eyes, laying it on thick, and while that might work for everything else, it’s a hard pass when it comes to my bike.
Swinging one leg over the bike, I settle into place and fix her with a stare of my own. “Savage, you can bat those pretty eyes at me all you want, but no matter how good you taste, how loud you scream, or pant for more, nobody drives my bike, but me.”
Lyra lets out a small huff before finally caving, and stepping in close. She rests her hand on my shoulder, grasping it tight, before swinging one leg over the sleek bike. Looking over my shoulder, I see her eyes sparkling, and she tries to stifle her smirk as she settles in behind me.
“Hold on tight,” I say.
Her hands slide along my waist, curling around my body, and instead of holding on, they move over my chest and abs, exploring, wandering, clutching onto the front of my thighs, and touching me everywhere but the one place I crave her the most.
Jesus Christ. This girl.
I’m in trouble.
I try to block it out, but I know this is going to be the ride from hell. “Ready?” I ask.
She nods, and without skipping a beat, I flick my fingers over her helmet, letting the visor close in front of her eyes before finally kicking over the bike and letting the engine roar to life in the street.
“Let’s go,” I call over the engine, and not a moment later, I take off into the street, letting my bike do the fucking talking.
The wind whips through her hair as I fly down the road, letting her feel the adrenaline of the ride, all while she crushes her slender body against mine, her full tits pressed against my back as her fingers clutch at my body.
We ride for half an hour, cutting through the streets of Onyx Heights, and by the time I’m pulling to a stop outside my home, I’ve never been so fucking hard in my life. It’s undoubtedly clear to me that I like this girl more than I should, yet I can’t seem to find a solid reason to pull away.
Riding right up onto my driveway, I kill the engine near the door, and her body instantly relaxes around mine. Lyra takes my shoulder and helps herself off my bike before staring up at my house.
“Is this your place?” she asks with a deep suspicion as I reach for the clip under her chin and start to free her from the confines of the helmet.
“Mm-hmm.”
Lyra laughs to herself. “Maddox Blake, did you bring me here to fuck me in your bed?”
I grin before running a hand through my wind-blown hair. “No,” I tell her honestly, “but if we end up there, I’m not going to be mad about it.”
She rolls her eyes, and just as she goes to say something, she cuts herself off, her gaze dropping to my forearm. “Is that . . .” She pauses as she reaches for her phone. “Is that a QR code tattoo?”
“Woah,” I say, rushing to my feet and holding my hand up to keep her from scanning the code. “This is the result of alcohol and poor planning.”
“Let me see.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Savage,” I warn before catching a glimpse of those big green eyes again and sucker punching myself right in the gut. I let out a sigh and adjust myself to give her a better view of my tattoo. Without hesitation, she’s got her camera out and ready.
Barely even a second later Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley booms through her speakers, and she sucks in a gasp, looking up at me in horror. “Maddox Blake, did I just get Rick-rolled by your tattoo?”
I laugh and hook her helmet over the handlebar. “I tried to warn you,” I tell her. “But this is what happens when you turn twenty-one and all your friends are bad influences on you.”
She just smiles at me, a real genuine smile, and it blows me the fuck away. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’m more than aware,” I tell her, dropping my hand to her lower back. “Come on, let me take you inside.”
She starts to walk before quickly hesitating, and I can’t help but wonder if she feels something real just like I do, if her heart is racing the way mine is. Maybe she got bad vibes and is worried I’m about to start slicing and dicing the second I get her alone.
“Why’d you bring me here?” she asks, looking up at me with those breathtaking eyes.
“Because it’s after five in the morning and everywhere in this city is closed,” I explain. “You needed an escape from whatever the fuck is going on with you, and I have that escape right here. Plus, there’s Cookies ’n Cream ice cream in the freezer, and I figured we couldn’t go wrong with that.”
Her face beams with happiness, and she starts moving again, allowing me to lead her right to the door, only when I slide my key into the lock, I pause and glance at her. “You’re not allergic to dogs are you?”
Her eyes widen with excitement. “You have a dog?”
“Yeah,” I say before cringing, knowing most women tend to shy away from big breeds that look like they could tear you limb from limb.
“He’s . . . He’s an attack dog. I rescued him from a dog fighting ring when he was still just a pup.
He’s kinda terrifying, but he’s really just a sweet baby who loves cuddles. ”
“He’s not gonna bite my face off or anything?”
“Only if I tell him to.”
Her eyes widen again, only this time they fill with fear, and I quickly jump in, shaking my head. “Fuck, Savage. That was a joke. He’s trained, but he’s not vicious. Just a big puppy. If you love him, he’ll love you.”
She lets out a breath. “Okay. Big puppy I can deal with.”
I turn the lock in the door before pausing and glancing at her.
“Oh, umm . . . You better brace yourself,” I say, giving her just enough warning before swinging the door open just in time to watch a hundred pounds of pure black furry muscle rush toward her.
The sound of his nails on the floorboards is enough to make anyone’s heart stall.
“Jesus—”
Lyra sucks in a breath, attempting to brace herself, and I put my hand out, ready to catch Smooch before he completely bowls her over, but he comes to a screeching halt and looks up at Lyra, as though he’s seeing an angel right from Heaven.
He moves in closer and starts to sniff her, but that quickly morphs into full-blown obsession. He rubs himself against her legs, whimpering as though he can’t possibly get enough of her attention. And honestly, same.
He presses his side protectively against her, and she drops to her knees, fully enamored with him. She scratches and rubs him all over, and I become overly jealous of my dog.
With Lyra on her knees, Smooch is easily able to cover her face with sloppy kisses. She immediately begins to coo at him, head over heels in love with my baby. “Who’s a good boy? Oh, you are such a sweety. I love you already. Yes, I do. Yes, I do.”
Smooch eats it up just as I knew he would, and when I reach down to pet his head, he ducks away, not giving a single flying shit about me.
I let out a huff and glare at Smooch. “Traitor.”
Lyra glances up, beaming from ear to ear. “What’s his name?”
“Smooch.”
Her brow arches and she gapes at me. “Smooch?”
“Yeah, well . . . It’s actually Bingo Baby Smoochy Bum, but it’s a bit of a mouthful, so it’s Smooch for short.”
“I, umm . . . I don’t know how to respond to that.”
I laugh and stride deeper into my home, flipping on a few lights. “Nobody ever does,” I say, leaning against the back of the couch as I watch Lyra love on Smooch. “Hmmm. Interesting.”
She glances up again. “What’s interesting?”
“He usually doesn’t like people. Actually, that’s not quite right. He hates people. Despises them.”
“Wait. But you said he’s just a big puppy who wants love?”
“He is, but . . . just not usually from strangers. He’s more attack dog than loveable puppy. Left some nasty scars on one of my friends, but wishful thinking and all that.”
“You’re telling me this thing could have actually bit my face off?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I shrug my shoulders and grin. “I wouldn’t have let him hurt you. I mean . . . Well, it was a fifty-fifty chance. But it’s all good. He loves you.”
Lyra shakes her head as her hand slowly drags down his big body. “Well, at least we know he’s got good taste.”
I grin. “Seems I trained him well.”