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Wrapping my legs around his back as he pushes inside me again, I clench my muscles, pulling until he fills me with his length. A satisfied smirk tips his lips, and he slides an arm under my back, rolling us until I’m straddling him.
“Take what you need, babe.” He holds my hips, pulling me up, and I whimper at the loss. My hands land on his chest, and he settles into the mattress, watching as I sink back down, a groan falling out of him as I seat myself fully, the new angle hitting my G-spot in an instant.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” I hiss, grinding my hips into him. He curses under his breath as I find my rhythm, riding him until stars prick at my vision. His arm snakes between our bodies, his thumb finding my clit, and he rubs frantic circles, pushing me closer and closer to orgasm with each move as I rock up and down, my eyes fluttering closed and my head falling back.
When his hands slip under the shirt I’m wearing, finding my peaked nipples, he pinches them, rolling his fingers over the buds, and my body trembles. He still hasn’t seen my bare chest, but I’ve gotten way more comfortable with him playing with my breasts, and when he pinches again, my back arches.
“Are you close, babe?” he asks, thrusting, meeting me move for move. “This is my favorite part of every day, you know.” His voice is a gravelly moan, and more pleasure rocks through me. “When your tight little pussy pulses around me, your juices dripping down my cock, there’s nothing better than that, Bumblebee.”
My climax comes barreling forward, but before I can fall over the edge, Mav slows when a knock sounds at the door. My hands still on his chest where I’ve been scratching at the skin, my legs trembling as I try to keep them still, but Maverick keeps moving inside me, his thrusts at a snail’s pace as he calls out to Nash. “Fuck off. I’m busy.”
A giggle slips past my lips, which he silences with his own, his tongue plunging inside my mouth as Nash calls again. “Yeah, you need to get unbusy and get your ass out here. Now, bro.”
“Motherfucker,” Maverick grumbles against my lips, pulling away with a grimace. “Raincheck, babe?”
He rolls me over, pumping once more, and a whimper falls from my mouth as he slides out of me. “Ugh.”
I already miss the feel of him. Rolling onto my front, I groan into the pillow, which only makes him chuckle as he grabs for his sweats off the floor, pulling them over his still-hard dick.
He winces when the cotton brushes the tip, glaring at me as if I’m the reason he didn’t get to finish. “You only have yourself to blame,” I quip, wriggling my way onto my back and pulling the comforter over my naked legs. “Now, go see what he wants and hurry. This will be the worst Monday ever if I have to go to Sociology without finishing.”
“You’re insatiable.” He leans over me, kissing me deeply as Nash pounds against the door once more. “I’m coming, dickhead, stop trying to give me a headache.”
Maverick saunters across the room, not bothering to find a t-shirt before he peels the door open and escapes into the lounge. The marks on his back from last night are raised and red, causing a flush to spread up my cheeks at the sight.
I roll over, grabbing the first item of clothing I can and pull the sweater over my head, hoping it covers the way my nipples peak through the cotton of Maverick’s t-shirt. As I’m standing, the sweater falling to my knees, the door slams open, and Nash stands watching me, his eyes wide as light footsteps sound behind.
“Nash, what—” Words fail me when a girl steps over the threshold, pushing Nash out of the way. Her wavy brown hair almost as familiar as my own, her stormy gray eyes—so like her brothers—staring at me with equal parts shock and disgust.
I haven’t seen Willow since the day she came to my house after Maverick’s trial, tossing all the things I’d left behind at her house over the years onto my yard before walking away without a single word. She hasn’t changed a bit, nor has the hatred etched into her features when she finds me in her brother’s bedroom.
“Bea—” My blood chills, my hands clamming under the weight of her gaze. Mav steps up beside her, dropping a placating hand on her shoulder, but she pushes him off, spinning to face him. “How could you? After everything she did to you?”
Maverick says nothing, his eyes moving between his sister and me, but it doesn’t matter anyway, not when Willow keeps going.
“God, no fucking wonder you’ve been avoiding my texts and my calls,” she shouts to him, stomping out of the doorway and into the lounge. “I bet you didn’t have the time to check them when you’ve been sticking your dick in the person who tried to ruin your life. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? That you so easily let her back in? Not just your life but your bed, Maverick. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Shame curdles inside me, heat pricking at my eyes as tears threaten to puddle at the surface. I turn quickly, grabbing my leggings from the pile of clothes strewn on the floor from last night. Dragging them over my legs, I make quick work of slipping into my shoes and bolting from the bedroom.
Maverick and Willow step aside when I reach the lounge, letting me pass. Only Nash offers me anything, his eyes softening as he watches me head to the door.
“Baby Bea,” he starts, but I pay him no attention, tugging at the handle and leaving without a word. It’s only when I reach my dorm minutes later, my feet aching from the gravel I hobbled on, my shoes still hanging limp from my hands, that I let the tears fall.
I knew. I knew the bubble we’d been living in would pop. And, my God, did it. Not once did he try to speak up for me. He told me that his family thought I was to blame for everything, that they were the reason we couldn’t be together . . . but then he claimed me anyway, and I thought he was willing to push past all that for me.
How wrong could I have been?
I used to believe I deserved the vitriol, deserved to lose my friends, thanks to my own stupid actions, but he made me change my view on that. Made me see that while I made the wrong choices, I wasn’t to blame. But today, he couldn’t find those words to utter to his sister. To stop me from leaving.
Not that I blame him, not really. His family is everything to him, they always have been, and never once would I expect him to choose me over them. But it doesn’t stop the way my heart shatters at the realization that he wouldn’t anyway.
My back slumps against the door, sliding down until my knees curl into my chest, my head dropping against them as the tears I thought dried up drench my leggings.
I’d tried so hard to convince myself that I deserved it. That I could give it a real shot, but I know now that the dread settling into my stomach over the last few days isn’t unfounded. The other shoe was waiting to drop—like I said to Maisie—right when I needed it not to.
My eyes fall to a wide envelope at my side I didn’t notice when I first came in. This is different from the other letters—the shape, the size, the weight. I peel it open, refusing to hide from the truth any longer.
Pictures fall to the floor as I tip the envelope. An array of them, depicting every moment Maverick and I have shared over the last few months since I came to BU. Pictures from inside my dorm of me on my knees and him on top of me in bed.
