Chapter 14 #2
Her head lowers, and I barely catch her whispered, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Eyeing her bent head for a beat, I drop talk of the future for now. “Why were you down here making pie?”
She shrugs again. “It was something to do.”
I snort, which prompts her to lift her head and meet my gaze as I tell her, “You could’ve read or watched a movie. Those would have distracted you even more than baking pies would have. Instead, you hunted out pie pans I didn’t know we had and filled the house with baking so good it woke me up.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “You don’t mean that.”
She’s no good at hiding her pleasure at my compliment. Her eyes are way too expressive and her blush is always a giveaway.
“Knox likes to heat Pop-Tarts in the oven instead of the toaster after he got them stuck in there and the toaster started smoking.”
She scrunches her nose. “But they’re so thin. I didn’t know you could get them stuck in there.”
“You can’t unless you wedge eight in a four-slice toaster because you’re too hungry and lazy to make four at a time.” I shake my head. “Then I realized no Pop-Tart ever smelled that good.”
“I wanted to do something nice for you to say thanks for taking care of me.”
This woman is the stuff of dreams.
If someone told me there was a sweeter, more beautiful girl in the world than Maisie Lucas, I wouldn’t believe them.
I rest both hands on the counter beside her, wanting to kiss her but knowing any move I make could chase her away. “You don’t have to give us things to say thanks. We like pie, and I appreciate you baking for us, but you didn’t need to do it.”
“I just want to feel useful.”
Damn, her ex really did a number on her.
“You are useful.” She opens her mouth, but I keep talking. “Your ex was a small man. He controlled you, and when that wasn’t enough, he made you feel small so he could feel bigger. His opinion of you is worthless. He is worthless.”
Her eyes turn misty. “He was talented.”
“Yes, he was a talented football player,” I agree. “But he got in his own way and threw that talent away. He had you, and he threw you away. He’s not worth your time or mine.” I point my chin at her hand. “How is your hand, really?”
She told me it was fine, but I’ve burned myself often enough over the years to know pain can flare up again without warning. I want her to feel like she can trust me with her pain. If I can help her feel better, I’ll do it.
She hesitates.
“The truth, Maisie,” I tell her gently. “No one in this house will ever punish or criticize you for being honest.”
“It’s still a little sore,” she admits, voice low.
I circle her wrist and feather a kiss across her burn.
Her breath hitches.
“What are you doing?” she whispers in a breathy rush.
I hold her gaze as I brush another kiss across her skin. “Kissing it better.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
She isn’t pulling away or telling me to stop. As I trace another kiss over her reddened skin, I inhale her scent, mentally groaning in response. “Does that mean you want me to stop?”
She doesn’t respond.
A smile lifts the corners of my mouth. “Yes? No? I need to know you want this.” My smile fades. “That goes for inside the bedroom and outside of it. Tell me what you want, Maisie. It’s yours.”
She gulps. “Don’t stop,” she whispers, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink as she adds, “I want you to keep kissing me.”
With my left hand on her hip, I urge her against the kitchen counter and dip my head to press my mouth to hers, giving her the kiss I’ve ached for.
She’s coming to us from a place of pain and hurt. Of fear. I start softer than I want to, claiming her lips with a lightness she can break if she wants to. A brush here, a caress there, and all the while I stroke her hip so she gets used to my hands on her body.
She rises on her tiptoes and leans toward me, a sign she’s ready for more. The tip of my tongue traces the seam of her mouth, and I groan as she parts her lips for me, letting me in. She tastes delicious. Cherry sweet with a hint of cinnamon. Intoxicating.
I take my time, giving her heat and sweetness, exploring her mouth with my tongue as she coils her arms around the back of my shoulders.
Yeah, she likes this. When she starts rubbing her body against me, I know she’s ready for a little more than just my fingers caressing her hips.
I skim my fingers up her arm. Her skin is so damn soft. She moans as I cup her right breast, molding the weight in my hand, my thumb grazing the hard point.
Her hand slides up my back, then down again, fingernails raking my skin. With a groan, I break the kiss, needing to know how her tits taste.
Her eyes are closed when I bend my head and draw her right breast into my mouth, through her thin cotton tank.
“Hunter…” she moans, tangling her fingers in my hair and rocking her pussy against the top of my thigh.
Groaning at the heat she’s kicking off through her shorts, I yank the front of her tank top down and give her nipple a firm lick.
Her back arches. I insert my thigh between her legs, and she grinds her pussy against it with increasing desperation.
I know exactly where this is heading if we keep this up, but I’m not ready to stop yet, and neither is she.
Sucking her right tit, I smile as she groans in frustration when I release her with a wet pop and move to her left. I had in mind that I’d put her on this counter, bury my face between her spread thighs, and she’d come over my tongue.
That isn’t happening now.
With every rock of her hips, I grit my teeth and order myself not to come. I grasp her hips, crush her against me, groaning as with each frantic rock, the side of her thigh rubs firmly against my cock.
Her breathing is labored as I lift my mouth from her breast to reclaim her lips. With a sweet, sexy moan against my mouth, her hips buck as her climax hits.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I hold the explosion back with everything I have.
My body doesn’t listen.
I clamp her against me, groaning against her throat and holding her still.
Two minutes later, we’re still wrapped around each other, and she’s fighting to catch her breath with her face against my chest.
I’m not sure when her hair fell out of her loose topknot, but I take full advantage and run a hand through the silky strands.
“Well, that wasn’t how this was supposed to go,” I say cheerfully.
Maisie lifts her head, her cheeks bright red as she meets my gaze. She pulls her pussy from against my thigh and lifts her tank top to cover her breasts.
Even before she moved, I felt her retreat. It’s easy to guess why: she thinks I regret this.
“Not you,” I tell her, clasping her hips to stop her from running. “Me. I’m talking about me.” I give the front of my shorts a pointed look.
She glances down, brow furrowed, then peers back up at me. “You? What did…” Her voice trails off, and her eyes widen. “Oh.”
Grinning, I kiss her. How can I not when she’s this pretty when she blushes? “Yeah, oh.”
I press my forehead against hers. “That is not what I came down here to do. Coffee. Breakfast. Spend the day with you. Those were the plans. Not lose my mind watching you make pie from the doorway, pin you against a counter, and cum in my pants like a sixteen-year-old boy.”
Her eyes flick down again, and her gaze lingers.
Laughing, I press myself against her. “For the love of everything, don’t look. I want you to see me at my best.”
She peers up at me, and her eyes turn soft as her lips curl into a smile. “You’re blushing.”
“I was doing everything I could to impress you in the kitchen last night, and this morning I come down and do this? Damn right I’m blushing.”
“It’s sweet.”
I lift my brow, torn between kissing her again and hugging her. “Nothing about the contents of my shorts and the reason for this blush is sweet.”
Her fingers graze my jaw in a far too brief caress. “Well, I think it is.” Blushing again, she avoids my gaze as she admits, “What you did made me feel really good. I didn’t realize I could feel that good so fast.”
Frowning, I forget my embarrassment. “Your ex didn’t—”
“No,” she cuts in, still blushing. “I mean, not for a while. We fooled around when we were younger, but then things between us changed. It was never about me anymore. Just about what he wanted.”
I kiss her, tangling my tongue with hers, leaning my hips against hers, and letting her feel how badly I want her. “That’s no way to live,” I tell her, framing her beautiful face. “I lean a little more toward fun than work, but everyone deserves for the person they’re with to make them feel good.”
“And if I wanted to make you feel good?” she asks, curiosity and arousal softening her gaze.
“I’ll never stand in the way of what you want.” Though I’m not sure how much I could take of Maisie’s touch.
She tilts her head. “Staying with you is dangerous. Derek could cause you problems.”
“Getting anywhere near you is going to cause him a world of problems. You’re safe here, Maisie. He isn’t getting to you, and he never will.”
“Until you finish the condo and leave for Florida.”
I frown. “Florida is—”
“—something we all said we’d talk about later.”
I jump, spinning around when Wyatt’s voice comes from over my shoulder, scaring the shit out of me.
Wyatt’s gaze dips, and his eyebrow rises. “Interesting morning?”
Snatching up the nearest chopping board, I use it to hide the front of my briefs. From his raised eyebrow, it’s a waste of time. He saw more than enough. These boxers are thin. He had to have guessed what happened.
“I should go get dressed.” Maisie slips around me, giving me a glimpse of red cheeks in her rush out of the kitchen.
Wyatt steps aside to let her out, but before she can bolt up the stairs, she stops just outside the kitchen and turns around, facing Wyatt. “I baked pies. They’re for all of you as a thanks for taking care of me and giving me a place to stay.”
Wyatt’s face softens. “You don’t have to bake for us, Maisie.”
“I wanted to.” She shifts from foot to foot. “Have fun at work.”
I utterly fail at not staring at her ass when she flies up the stairs before Wyatt can respond. He turns around to face me, his face no longer soft.
He glares. “We talked about this, Hunter,” he hisses, lowering his voice as he steps into the kitchen and closes the door behind him. “She’s not ready for sex, and she’s not ready to talk about the future. She just moved in here. We will scare her away.”
“It wasn’t sex,” I deny.
His gaze drops to the chopping board I’m using to shield myself.
“Okay, it kind of was sex, but that’s not all it was.” He opens his mouth, ready to push his point, but I talk over him. “It was fun. Something she has had precious little of with her ex. I don’t regret it, and I don’t think she does either.” I make a face. “Well, I have regrets, just not about—”
He lifts his hand, a sign for me to stop talking. “Don’t. The less I know, the better.” He rubs his knuckles over his five o'clock shadow. “We could push her away if we move too fast.”
“But she won’t know we want a life with her if we don’t make that clear from the start.” Elias slips into the kitchen behind Wyatt. “And she needs to know it, or we risk losing her before she knows we want her.”
“What’s with the chopping board?” Knox walks in next, bouncing his gaze from my wooden shield to my face.
They’re all dressed for work except me. It’s not safe for Maisie to be alone, so today I’m staying home with her.
“Maisie.” I head for the door. “I need to grab a quick shower, and we need to talk before you guys head to work. Give me ten minutes. Maisie made pie, but I didn’t get the coffee machine started.” Maisie’s shorts shut off the ability to focus on anything but her.
“Please tell me you’re going to wash that before you put it back,” Wyatt says, pointing at the chopping board I take with me out of the kitchen.
“If that is covering what I think it is,” Knox adds with a shake of his head. “Burn it.”