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“Fuck, Maven,” I say, coming up for air.
“Why did we wait months to do this?” she asks, and she rolls her hips. A strangled sound leaves my mouth, and she laughs softly, pleased with herself. “This is so much more fun than looking.”
I dip my chin and kiss her neck. “You’re driving me fucking wild in this jersey.”
“Does that mean you’re going to leave it on when you fuck me?” She runs a hand down my chest and cups me through my jeans. “So I know who I belong to?”
“Jesus.” I drop my forehead against hers and squeeze my eyes shut. Her thumb drags up the zipper, and I swear I see fucking stars. “I’m not going to fuck you tonight. I want to tell you that now.”
“You’re not?” Her voice turns hesitant, and I pull back so I can look at her. “Did you—am I?—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You know you’re perfect, Maven. I’m not fucking you tonight because when I do, I want to take my time. When you touch me, I’m not going to last very long. It’s not you—well, it is you. You’re a fucking goddess and?—”
Maven cuts me off with another kiss, and I don’t remember what I was saying. “I don’t care how long it lasts. Take me to your room, Dallas,” she murmurs against my mouth.
So I do.
THIRTY-THREE
DALLAS
I all butkick my bedroom door in.
It hits the wall and I wince, waiting to see if I just woke June up with the loud noise.
“You’re definitely not getting your security deposit back,” Maven whispers into my neck. She presses a kiss just below my ear, and my grip under her thighs tightens. “You know I love JB, but if we have to stop this before we even start, I’m going to be pissed, Lansfield.”
I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear nothing but silence down the hall. “We’re clear.”
“Thank god.”
I shuffle into my room and close the door behind us. I make sure to lock it just in case. The walk to the bed feels like it’s miles long, and when I drop Maven on the mattress, I finally get a chance to really look at her.
Her blonde hair is a mess and her cheeks are pink. There’s a red mark on the column of her throat, and I grin smugly, thinking about her at the game tomorrow. She’ll be standing on the sideline with a souvenir I left behind, and not a single fucking person will know.
“You’re a vision, Maven,” I say, and I pull my shirt over my head. Hunger flashes in her eyes as her gaze roams down my torso.
She scoots back on the comforter toward the headboard and holds herself up on her elbows. Her feet drag across the sheets, knees bent and thighs wide. “Come here,” she says, softer than before.
I crawl across the mattress to her. When I’m close enough to reach, I bend down and cup both of her cheeks. I kiss her again, with my tongue and with my teeth because I’m desperate for more of her.
When I pull away, my attention bounces to the jersey bunched around her chest. I’m torn between wanting her to wear it forever and ripping it off. I move down her body to the sinful black thong I didn’t notice before, but now I want to tear it to shreds.
“I’ve imagined what this would look like,” I say, and my throat is dry.
“Have you been thinking about me, Dallas?” she asks with a sly smirk.
“More than I care to admit. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would be this good. And I haven’t even touched you yet.”
I position myself between her legs and run my palms up her thighs. They’re just as glorious as I thought they would be; creamy white. Silky smooth. Muscular and curvy. Being suffocated while my head is between them is the only way I want to go.
My hand moves up to her thong. I brush my knuckles along the front seam and find it already wet. I give her pussy a light tap before I curl my fingers in the waistband of the lace and snap the elastic against her skin. Maven hisses and drops her head back, and I stare at the spot on her neck that’s been distracting me for days.
“Maybe you should hurry up and actually touch me,” she says around another soft moan when I massage her thighs with both hands. She grips the sheets next to her hips, and her legs open wider. “Or I might do it myself.”
I lean forward. My body covers hers, and I drag my teeth up her throat. “Fucking needy, aren’t you?” I whisper in her ear. “Are you wearing anything under my jersey, pretty girl? Take it off and let me see.”
She scrambles to pull the jersey over her head, and I sit back on my heels to watch. I’m at a loss for words when I see a matching lace bra, black as night. She’s a daydream, and I have to take a deep breath.
