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I flick my gaze in the direction of my fiancé to find he’s glowering at me. I frown back at him. An assessing glint sparks in his eyes, one that promises me retribution for—he couldn’t have realized I found Edward attractive for about a second, right?
Edward draws in a sharp breath. "I saved your arse this time, but it may not happen again. Don’t push your luck, Maverick. One of these days, you’re going to be caught up in the turbulence of your own making, and we all know how that ended for Goose."
Maverick? I blink in Rick’s direction and find him sitting stiffly, his shoulder muscles bunched under his team sweatshirt.
Edward spins around and walks out, the door slamming shut behind him. I keep my gaze on Rick, who has a distant look on his face. A vein pops at his temple. The muscles of his jaw are so wound up, it’s a wonder he hasn’t cracked a molar by now. His gaze is distant. Those blue eyes of his resemble a frozen tundra. As I watch, that promise of retribution in them deepens into an expression that tells me he’s not going to hold back. He rises to his feet, and I take a step back. He kicks his chair out of the way, his movements deliberate. I gulp, resisting the urge to glance at the door behind me. He prowls toward me, and I stumble back. My back hits the wall, and I gasp. When he steps into my space, I tilt my face back, and further back, so as not to break the connection. I will not be the first to look away. I won’t.
I need to distract this guy before he touches me. If he does, I won't be able to resist him. So, I say the first thing that comes into my head. "Who’s Maverick?"
52
Rick
"Who the fuck do you think he is?" I bend my knees and peer into her eyes.
She flinches. "I-I don’t know."
"Why are you stuttering?" I lower my voice to a hush, and she shivers.
"I-I’m not."
"Lying, Goldie?" I lean into her space, so my chest is pressed into hers, and she shudders. The pulse at the base of her neck kicks up, and damn, but I can’t stop myself. I lower my head and close my mouth around the skin where her blood pounds in her veins. She whimpers, and the blood drains to my groin. I nibble my way around the base of her throat, then release her, only to curl my fingers around her neck. I squeeze, and her gaze widens. Her chest rises and falls. The scent of her arousal bleeds into the air, and my balls tighten. "My hand-necklace looks so fucking good on you." With my free hand, I grasp her butt and lift. She gasps, then locks her ankles around my waist and clings to my shoulders. She raises her chin, but I evade her lips. "I’ll kiss you when I’m good and ready," I growl.
She pouts. "Why can’t I initiate a kiss?"
"Because you’re a brat who needs to learn how to earn what she wants."
"But—" she begins to whine, and I narrow my gaze on her.
"Keep that up, and I won’t be doing anything else, either."
"Like I want you to—" She groans, for I’ve pushed my crotch into its happy place, also known as, in the cradle between her legs. My dick instantly lengthens, and I know she can feel it stab into her center, for color flushes her cheeks. She begins to grind down on my cock, and her breathing grows choppy. Her eyes are dilated, her lips parted, and all I want is to remove the barriers of our clothing and push into her…
Like that douchecanoe wanted to do. If I hadn’t arrived there in time—The blood pounds through my veins. My guts churn. Asshole deserves to die. If only I didn’t have to wait until the team makes it to the finals of the league before I have my revenge.
And meanwhile, you’re going to string her along? And allow your feelings for her to deepen. Allow her to fall in love with you, too? How much of a sadist can you possibly be? How can you do this to her?
She looks into my face, and a furrow appears between her eyebrows. "What’s wrong?"
I draw in a sharp breath.Since when have I unable to keep my feelings to myself? Since when have I begun showing what I felt inside on my face? Since when has she read me so well?
"Rick?" She cups my cheek in a gesture that’s so familiar, so heartfelt, so everything. A line of sensations runs from where she’s touching me to my chest. My heart falters. My scalp tingles. The words I want to speak die in my throat. I spread my fingers so they cover the sweet column of her neck, and all I can think is,she’s mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
"Rick? Baby?" A flash of panic ignites in her eyes. "Rick, talk to me."
I open my mouth to tell her the real reason I asked her to share a room with me the day she arrived at the house, when my phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans. I ignore it, lower my chin until my mouth is over hers, and draw in her sweet breath. The phone stops, then starts again.
"Aren’t you going to get that?" She asks in a breathless voice.
I blink.
"Rick, it might be your grandmother."
Fuck, she’s right. How could I have forgotten Grams’ condition? I pin her to the wall with my hips, pull out my phone and answer. The voice on the other side echoes through my head. When I lower the phone, she takes in the look on my face, and her expression changes to one of sympathy.
* * *
"She’s going to be okay." Goldie places her hand on my shoulder, but I shrug it off. If anything happens to Grams, I’ll never forgive myself. She’s my only surviving relation. I should have checked in on her more.
