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She grabbed for the back of my shirt and clawed and pulled.
I had no choice but to take my hands off her body.
I pressed my hands to the bed and lifted up.
Madison wrestled my shirt up over my head.
“Why is this so tight?” she growled.
“It’s what I wear when I play,” I said. “Compression.”
“Whatever,” she said. “Wait. You’re wearing another shirt?”
“Yeah,” I said. “This is my lucky shirt.”
Madison touched her lips and started to smile.
“Are you laughing at me?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “You have a lucky shirt?”
“It’s a sleeveless shirt. I cut the sleeves off. My arms got really big and I had no choice.”
“Oh, wow,” Madison said. “I think I need you to stop talking. You’re starting to have the reverse effect on me when it comes to having sex…”
“Because of a lucky shirt?”
“Because that sounds stupid,” Madison said.
“This shirt is the reason why I’m here right now.”
“You weren’t wearing that shirt the night we met,” I said.
Maverick smirked. “You remember the night we met?”
“Oh, here we go,” Madison said, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe this. I liked this relationship better when we just screwed and slept.”
“So we have a relationship now? Are you committing to me?”
“No,” she said. “Not even close, Mav. I’m laughing at you over a lucky shirt. I am not taking that off you. I’m going to close my eyes and pretend it doesn’t exist. So get rid of it before I get rid of you.”
I loved her.
There.
I admitted it.
I fucking loved her.
I loved the way she was mean yet flirty.
I loved that she didn’t care that I was a famous athlete and rich.
I loved… everything… about her…
Madison actually closed her eyes.
She arched her back just a little.
