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Maverick doesn’t say a word, but moves aside, leaving his door open for me with a raised brow. I hesitate for a second, blowing out my breath and brushing past him. My eyes zero in on his bed, the comforter a wrinkled mess, before I sit on the edge, lifting my gaze to his.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask, as he closes the door with a soft click. His dark hair is a tousled mess, falling over his brow as his lips twitch at the sides. The shirt he’s wearing is an old Outwood High one, and my lips tip up at the sight. “Nice shirt.”
“It’s yours if you want it?” He shrugs, and my eyes dip, running over the length of him. He’s wearing a pair of gray cotton shorts that cling to muscled thighs, and mine clench, sparks of electricity shooting straight to my center.
I nod, playing with the hem of my sweater as he peels the shirt off, his golden skin glistening under the soft glow from the lamp at his bedside. My eyes follow the white material, lingering on his abs, and he chuckles before tossing the shirt at me.
“One more night,” I tell him, and his eyes run over my face, reading me in the way only he has ever been able to. I keep my expression blank, giving him nothing more than the heat that projects from my eyes.
“One more night,” he echoes, stepping into me. He bands an arm around me, pulling me against his chest. His hardening length presses into me, and I sigh, knowing that at least this is something we can have.
He leans down, pressing an open-mouth kiss to my pulse point, and my heart skyrockets at the sensitive touch. My chest heaves as my breath stutters, and he smiles against my skin, nipping before he pulls away and spins me.
Gripping the bottom of my sweater, he peels it from my body, his heat pouring into me as his hand runs up and down my spine. A shiver racks me, and my eyes flutter closed, my head tipping back.
“Put the top on, Bumblebee,” he tells me, his lips grazing my neck.
I take my time, reveling in his touch as he continues to graze my back, his rough fingertips dancing over me. The moment the shirt is over my head, dropping just below my breasts, he spins me before his hands cup my ass cheeks. He lifts me with ease, moving until my back is pressed against the wall, my legs wrapped around his waist, and his dick straining against his shorts finds my center.
Even with the layers between us, my panties grow slick and heat spirals through me, sending tiny sparks of electricity straight to my clit.
“One more night,” he repeats again, letting one arm fall from my thighs to snake between us. He pushes my pink lace panties to the side, his fingers sliding through my folds as he thumbs my clit.
I gasp as he circles it, pressing two fingers to my entrance. His eyes find mine alight with heat and hunger as he plunges inside me. The intrusion is welcome, and I pulse around him in an instant, moaning with pleasure as he slides his fingers in and out, his thumb circling my clit until stars flicker in my vision.
The moment he curls his fingers, finding that spot, my vision grows dark and my body trembles as an orgasm rocks through me. He continues to finger-fuck me, his thumb never relenting as one orgasm rolls into two, and my eyes flutter closed, the sensations too overwhelming.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, his fingers stilling inside me, but the moment he groans and his dick is pressed to my entrance, my eyes snap open. When did he even push his shorts down?
He doesn’t give me a second to contemplate the answer, rocking inside me with a single thrust. My head tips back as my body gets used to him, his width stretching me in the most delicious way.
“Fuck me, Maverick,” I breathe, grinding my hips as he pulls out.
“I’m going to fuck you so fucking good, babe,” he says, making good on his promise as he plunges in and out, drawing almost fully out of me before filling me once more. Our breaths and the frantic beat of his hips slapping against mine fill the room as he continues to fill me with him. “Jesus, Bumblebee. You’re killing me. Look at me, babe. Look me in the eyes when I take you to the edge again. I need to see you.”
His free hand threads through my hair, tugging my head until my face is mere inches from his. His mouth hovers over mine, and it would be so simple to close the gap. To press my lips to his and see if he tastes as good as I imagine. But as soon as the urge overtakes me, he finds my G-spot with his dick, rocking against it until the only thing I can think about is the orgasm he tears from my body.
His own follows, his dick pulsing inside me as my pussy strangles it. My clit burns with pleasure, and my body tenses as he rides out my climax. His thrusts slow, becoming lazy and gentle as he releases inside me.
Our breaths mingle, the mint from his toothpaste tickling my nose as he leans forward, his head falling to my neck. He presses a kiss there, holding me to the wall for a long minute.
When he pulls away, I almost cry out at the loss of him, but he sets me on the ground, heaving in a breath. He seems to war with himself for a moment, his eyes darting between the bed and the door, but when he finds my face again, he holds his hand out.
I grab it, my breath still as he pulls me with him, drawing the covers back. He nudges me gently until I sit down, shuffling over to allow him space to get in.
The moment he does, he flicks the light off, his arm finding my waist. He hauls me to him, his hold on me tightening as he presses the sweetest kiss to my head. With my free hand, I place it over his, linking our fingers together, and as his breaths even out, I can’t help but wonder where we go from here.
Maverick
Rolling over, I reach for the other side of the bed, but there’s nothing beyond cold sheets and the lingering scent of blueberry shampoo.
I peel my eyes open, glancing over the room, but Beatrice is gone. If it weren’t for the smell of her still attached to the bed. I’d wonder if last night was a dream.
I force myself out of bed and into the shower, spending way longer than necessary under the stream of water before getting dressed in a pair of gray joggers and my navy Bears sweater.
Lacing up my sneakers, I grab my phone from the charger, tossing the cable in my bag before scrolling through my notifications. A usual string of congratulations fills my screen, but the texts from my sister have me pulling open our thread.
Willow: Mom and Dad told me that our superstar quarterback got the W last night. Well done bro. Miss you.
