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The warmth of his breath tickled my neck but it felt too good to care. Everything about his rough hands and hardened body pressed against my back taunted me. I leaned forward, catching myself against the doorjamb, leaning my neck to the left for better access.
Maverick chuckled darkly into my ear, his left hand resting against mine, his wedding ring shining in the lighting of our bathroom. “Someone didn’t get enough last night,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes, knowing I’d never get enough of Maverick Booker, not in one year or forever. My body responded so effortlessly to his touch.
After years of looking over our shoulders, and graduating, Maverick was drafted into the Kansas City Chiefs and we moved to Missouri. It took a lot to agree to leave Louisiana, but when he pulled out a ring and asked me to marry him, how could I not follow? Even if my parents protested, I stood up for what I wanted—Maverick.
We held the wedding at the courthouse, nothing fancy, being broke and neither of our parents having the funds—who cared? We’d spent every night since tangled in the sheets of our bed, without a care in the world.
After what felt like months, they caught India, along with King and a slew of other students used by Derek to help run his underground ring. Maverick’s mom was wrong, no one was as loyal to Derek as she assumed.
The two of us got Frankie through high school and signed up for a local vocational school for welding. It’d been the highlight of Maverick’s life to see his brother graduate and strive to make something of himself.
Maverick’s fingers pushed the fabric of my underwear to the side and he slipped two digits inside of me. Moans filled our spacious bathroom as I rode them as I rode Maverick the night before.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the wall mirror above our bathroom sink.Was this me?The red-cheeked woman, with wild hair and a newfound relationship with her body. With my breast pushed forward, my head lying against Maverick’s wide shoulder, and my mouth parted in pleasure, I felt free.
It felt light-years away from the shy little girl I'd once been.
Maverick turned me around, the body I once loved had transformed due to practicing and training for The Chiefs. If he’d been Marvel-worthy back in college, he was Krypton-ready now. The definition in his biceps as they encircled my waist and hauled me to the counter behind us, and the ripple of his abs as I ran my fingertips over them soaked my panties.
It felt dreamlike for Maverick to pursue me. For the man who turned my life around to love me the way he does.
Maverick caught my gaze and lifted a heavy brow. “What’s the matter, Pretty Girl? I thought you wanted it?”
I chuckled, running my fingertip against the dark scruff of his jawline. “Oh, I do. I was just thinking about where we came from.”
“We’ve been through it,” he whispered, trailing his thick lips over mine and to the juncture where neck met shoulder. “Are you happy?” he asked, stopping his assault against my skin.
“Of course,” I said.
Maverick glanced back at me, his head tilted to the side like he wasn’t sure if he believed me. “Then why aren’t we screwing on the counter yet?”
“He won’t be in prison forever,” I whispered. “You don’t think he’ll come back for us once he’s out, do you?”
Maverick frowned, picking me up to his waist to carry me to our bed. The giant window in our condominium’s bedroom cast sunlight against my skin, making me feel like my worries were overrated, but I knew deep down they weren’t for nothing.
Maverick laid me against the bedspread and hovered over me. I relished in the fabric of his football pants sliding against my bare thighs as he held himself up by his palms. “Baby, I won’t let that man hurt you ever again. When he’s out, we’ll get notified, and we’ll be ready for anything.”
I nodded. Maverick used his thick fingers to pull open my button-down shirt and suck my nipple into his mouth.He knows how to distract me …
His rough fingertips pinched the other, and he maneuvered himself between my thighs. Nothing about this was gentle like that first time. Maverick’s mossy gaze held mine while he pressed me against the bed with one palm, pulled himself out of his pants, and with no mercy shoved himself to my hilt.
Tears built at the corners of my eyes but my body loved every second of the rough pleasure I knew he’d give me. We didn’t have long before he needed to head to the stadium, and I had an interview with a real estate agent in minutes across town to look into a gallery for sale.
With Maverick’s growing income, he insisted I buy a gallery and started building a client list. The time on the clock above our bed didn’t matter.
He slammed into me like a lunatic, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. His thick fingers tangled into my hair, and he yanked my chin upward before crashing his lips against mine.
“You trust me,” he whispered.
I ignored the Aladdin reference he knew I hated, and ground my teeth together. Every time he pumped into me, a roll of heat nearly broke me. “Yes.”
“I swear to you, Josie,” he whispered, moving his palm to my neck. “That bastard will never be within ten feet of you again.”
Maverick’s emotions built, and I could feel them in his thrust. I didn’t mind. I knew his counselor suggested a more gentle approach to letting them out, but I loved that he used me. Swiftly, he turned me around with my bottom positioned in the air and pushed back into me.
He gripped a handful of my hair and tightened his grip with every move. My orgasm ruptured over into a mindless moan that I let spill out, earning a knock on the wall from our neighbors.
If Maverick heard, he didn’t care, he kept up his speed, his palm coming down hard on my cheek, and I felt hot knowing his fingertips would leave a bruise for me to admire later.
My husband, my bully, Maverick Booker, would do anything to protect me.AndI felt it in every move he made.
THE END (MAYBE) …
