Chapter 19
nineteen
MAINE
As I fumble for my keys with fingers that are still wet from her, Maya presses against me, her breath hot against my neck. “You better be rock-hard,” she says.
The lock finally cooperates, and we tumble through the door.
My brain has about half a second to get a word in, and it does so by shouting that this is a terrible idea.
Because this isn’t just a hookup, this is pressing the ‘GO’ button on feelings and the disaster of the bet and who the fuck knows what else.
“Second thoughts?” she asks, and there’s something vulnerable in her voice that cuts through the alcohol and lust.
I should say yes. I should remember the bet and the money I can’t afford to pay out if I lose and that I don’t want to win if it means shattering her heart and her trust. Or the fact that every minute I spend actually caring about her is another step toward complete fucking disaster.
Instead, I frame her face with my hands, loving how she looks absolutely wrecked and perfect. “No,” I lie. “No second thoughts.”
The smile she gives me is different from her usual smirk. Softer. Real. And as she pulls me toward my bed, I have the terrifying realization that I’m pretty damn close to winning the bet I don’t want to, because she’s pretty damn close to catching feelings I can’t afford.
Fuck , my brain shouts. You are in so much trouble.
But then she’s kissing me again, and I stop thinking entirely.
“Bedroom,” she gasps against my lips, and I don’t need to be told twice.
I let her pull me down the hallway, but we only make it three steps before she’s yanking me back for another kiss.
My hands find her waist, sliding up under her top to find warm skin and a lacy bra, and in response to my touch she makes a soft, needy sound that goes straight to my already aching cock.
I have to physically force myself to keep moving toward the bedroom because, if we don’t, I’m going to take her right here against the wall. And, a second later, we stumble through my doorway, a tangle of limbs and wandering hands, and I get to work on her dress.
When it hits the floor, she stands there in a black lace bra and panties set, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes wide with desire. The club lights had hidden the details, but here in my room, I can see everything—the hunger in her eyes, the flush spreading down her neck…
“You’re staring,” she says.
“Yeah,” I admit, my voice rough. “You’re fucking beautiful.”
Something flickers across her face—surprise, maybe, or vulnerability—but before I can analyze it, she’s pushing my shirt up and over my head. Her hands map my chest, fingers tracing the lines of muscle with a focus that makes me feel like I’m being memorized.
“Come here,” I murmur, and she does, letting me guide her onto the mattress.
But instead of covering her body with mine, I kiss her slowly, deeply, then begin working my way down her body. I press my lips to her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath my mouth. I trace my tongue along her collarbone, tasting the salt of her skin and the faint trace of her perfume.
“Maine,” she breathes, her fingers tangling in my hair.
I look up at her as I settle between her thighs, and the expression on her face—anticipation mixed with something achingly tender—is the best damn thing I’ve ever seen. This isn’t about winning anymore. This is about giving her what she’s given me these past weeks.
Care. Attention. The feeling of being truly seen.
Fuck, dare I say it?
The feeling of being loved…
I hook my fingers in her panties and slide them down, revealing her to me completely.
She’s already wet, and the first touch of my tongue makes her entire body arch off the bed.
And then I start to explore her with single-minded focus, finding a rhythm that has her grinding against my face, chasing her pleasure.
“Oh god,” she pants, one hand tangling in my hair, holding me exactly where she needs me. “Right there, don’t you dare stop, don’t?—“
I don’t stop. I double down, adding two fingers to work in tandem with my tongue, curling them to find a spot that makes her whole body go rigid. She comes with her thighs clamping around my head, and I work her through it, gentling my touch as she starts to come down and catch her breath.
When I finally move back up her body, she gives me a kiss that’s different from all the others—slower, deeper, with a tenderness that makes me ache. She can taste herself on my tongue, and the way she moans into my mouth has me so hard it actually hurts.
“I want you in me,” she murmurs against my lips.
I have to force myself to pull away long enough to grab a condom from my nightstand. I pull my jeans and underwear off, then tear open the wrapper and roll it on. And when I settle back between her legs, the weight of the moment hits me.
This isn’t just sex.
This is something else entirely, something I don’t have words for yet.
Or something I’m too afraid to name.
I line myself up at her entrance, then pause, meeting her eyes. “Maya…”
“I know,” she whispers.
And maybe she does.
Maybe she feels this shift too.
Feelings I can’t afford.
I push inside her slowly, watching her face as I fill her inch by inch. Her mouth falls open on a silent gasp, her nails digging into my shoulders. When I’m fully inside, we both go still, adjusting to the overwhelming sensation of being connected like this.
“Fuck,” I breathe, dropping my forehead to hers. “You feel incredible.”
She responds by rolling her hips, taking me even deeper, and any ability I had to form coherent thoughts disappears entirely. I start to move, slow and deep at first, wanting to make this last. Each thrust draws a soft sound from her throat, and I catalog every one like it’s something precious.
But Maya has other plans. She wraps her legs around my waist, using the leverage to meet my thrusts, turning our slow burn into something more urgent. Her hands are everywhere—in my hair, scoring down my back, gripping my ass to pull me deeper.
“Harder,” she demands, and who am I to deny her anything?
I pick up the pace, driving into her with a force that has the headboard knocking against the wall. She meets me thrust for thrust, our bodies moving together in perfect synchronization. Every motion feels like a conversation, every touch a confession neither of us is brave enough to voice.
“Turn me around,” Maya gasps suddenly, pushing at my shoulders with surprising strength. “I want you to take me from behind.”
The raw demand in her voice nearly undoes me right then and there. I pull out, both of us groaning at the loss, and she’s already moving, scrambling quickly and positioning herself on her hands and knees with an urgency that matches my own.
“Hard?” I ask, running my hands over the curve of her ass, mesmerized by the sight of her offering herself to me so completely.
“Yes,” she breathes, looking back at me over her shoulder with eyes gone dark with need. “Don’t hold back.”
Not one to argue with a sexy request from a gorgeous woman, I line myself up and thrust back inside in one smooth motion, the new angle drawing a sharp cry from her lips. My hands find her hips, gripping tight enough to leave marks as I set a punishing rhythm that has her fisting the sheets.
“ Fuck , Maine,” she moans, dropping to her elbows, changing the angle even more. “Just like that.”
I lean over her back, one hand bracing on the mattress while the other slides around to find her clit. The moment I touch her, she clenches around me, a broken sound escaping her throat. She’s close, I can tell, and so am I, wanting to explode more than anything.
“Come with me,” I growl against her ear, feeling my release building at the base of my spine. “I’m so close?—“
She shatters beneath me, my name a moan on her lips as her orgasm rips through her. The feeling of her pulsing around me obliterates what’s left of my control, and I follow her over, my vision going white as pleasure crashes through me in waves that seem endless.
We collapse on the bed and just lie there, my weight on top of her, both of us panting and trembling in the aftermath.
I’m still inside her, neither of us seeming eager to separate.
She caresses my thigh, and I press kisses to her shoulder, her neck, anywhere I can reach without having to move too much.
Eventually, I know I need to deal with the condom, but even that necessary separation feels like too much. I dispose of it quickly and return to bed, where Maya has curled up on her side, looking thoroughly satisfied and absolutely perfect.
Without thinking, I pull her against me, fitting her back to my chest and wrapping an arm securely around her waist. She fits perfectly in the curve of my body, like she was designed to be there. I can feel her heartbeat gradually slowing, syncing with mine.
This is dangerous. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to make a joke, to reestablish the boundaries, to turn this back into something casual and manageable. But I can’t. Not when holding her like this feels more right than anything has in my entire life.
You’re in love with her , my brain supplies helpfully, and I’m not sure that I can deny it anymore. Because the woman who’s snuggled up against me has torn off the mask I wear, seen me at my worst and my best, and taken up residence inside me that I didn’t even know existed.
The bet that started all this feels like a joke now, and I feel stupid for making it.
I could have the bet won right now, but that means betraying her trust.
And I don’t want to do that.
Not anymore.
I don’t want to win, but I can’t afford to lose.
Her breathing evens out, and I think she might be asleep until she speaks, her voice soft. “What is this, Maine?”
My arm tightens around her involuntarily, but I take a good few seconds to respond. My mind tells me this is the time to escape, to reassert the casual nature of all this, and to buy time to figure out how to get the hell out of the bet with the guys.
“I don’t do this,” she continues. “The cuddling. The… whatever this is.”
“Neither do I.”
She turns in my arms to face me, and even in the dim light, I can see the confusion in her eyes, the same war between want and self-preservation that’s raging in my chest.
“So what are we doing?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I know I don’t want you to leave.”
Something in her expression softens. “OK,” she whispers. “I’ll stay.”
As her breathing deepens and she drifts off, I lie awake, holding her close and trying not to think about how completely fucked I am. The bet, the money I desperately need but don’t want to win and can’t afford to lose, and the fact that my friends think this is all a game.
The fact she’ll be devastated if she finds out.
This girl is asleep in my arms, trusting me with her body and maybe even her heart, while I’m keeping a secret that could destroy everything. So tomorrow I’ll figure out if there’s a way out of the bet that doesn’t involve breaking her heart or going broke.
Tonight, though, I just hold her close and pretend that this is something I get to keep.