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The second Maverik’s lips claim mine, my heart soars.
I’ve spent too much of my life avoiding anything that made me feel good—alive, even. I’m done denying myself what I want. At least where Maverik is concerned.
And yes, this is fast. And yes, this is crazy. And yes, just hours ago, I hated him.
But there is something about this man. Something all consuming, and… it feels right. Like we were always meant to end up in this moment. Maybe we were.
I plaster myself against Maverik and wrap my arms around his neck before opening myself to him. His tongue explores my mouth with a fierceness I’ve never experienced. It feels magical.
One hand roams my back, and the other weaves into my hair, holding me hostage to his assault. His hardness presses into my soft belly, sending a delicious thrill to my aching core. I need more. So, so much more.
“We should go inside,” I manage in between kisses. The last thing I need is to give my neighbor’s a show. As it is, we’ve risked them seeing one passionate kiss.
“Sunshine…” he whispers, and I hear the agony in his voice. He wants to go inside but in the same breath, he wants to do things slowly.
“You should come inside,” I insist.
“I want to take you on a date, before we go any further.”
“I don’t want a date. I want you.”
“Willow…”
I let go, and reach for the door, now unlocked because of him. Maverik groans, watching as I walk away, swinging my hips. The sound emboldens me, and I glance over my shoulder to smile. He hasn’t moved, but I see the fight in his eyes.
He wants to cross the threshold into my home.
Badly.
I remove the cream cardigan and pink tank, making the battle that much harder for him. Looking back once more, I see his eyes flare at the sight of my bare back, realizing I wasn’t wearing a bra. I walk down the hallway, listening as he closes the door and locks up.
Game on.
I discard my yoga pants and take a deep breath. Standing in my lacy thong, I wait, finding power and courage to turn when I hear him enter the room. I might not feel completely confident in my body, but something tells me I won’t disappoint the man taking in the sight of it.
“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes roam my body. “You take my breath away, sunshine. So fucking stunning.”
He prowls toward me, like a man on a mission, but I hold a hand up, stopping him in his tracks. “Protection?”
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small gold foil. “I have one.”
“Then you better make it a good one,” I tell him point blank, dropping my hand. The idea of being with him, connected as one, has my body reacting in ways I never knew possible. I’ve been with other men, but I’ve never felt… this excited. It’s almost embarrassing how heated my skin feels, or the wetness settling between my legs. “I’m on the pill, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Okay.” He nods. “But you should know, I haven’t been with anyone in months.”
“I’ve seen the photos—”
“You’ve seen what I want the world to see. The paparazzi are easy to fool when they see you as a dumpster fire.”
“Still, we can both get checked.”
“Okay.” He nods again before pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his sculpted body.
Crap on a cracker.His body is better in person than on the big screen. A sudden wave of jealous surges through me at the thought of women ogling my man’s body.
My man?
Yes, I like the sound of that.
