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His words push me toward another orgasm. The sounds of skin smacking against skin and our panting fill the room, getting louder and louder as he picks up his pace.
“Yes,” he growls, leaning down. His hot breath sears my ears and neck as our sweat-covered bodies rub against each other. “I want to feel you come around my dick.”
“I’m so close,” I moan, grasping the back of his neck.
He shifts his hips, changing the angle just enough that his next thrust pushes me over the edge. I scream Maverick’s name as he chases his own release.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Fuck yeah, Jenny.” Pulling out, he slams into me one more time and stills, moaning loudly.
This feeling is intoxicating. I want to experience it over and over again. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this man.
As he starts to relax, his breathing ragged, he pulls back. He stares into my eyes for a heartbeat before giving me a breathtaking smile.
“Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi,” I murmur back with a smile. Reaching up, I run my hands through his deliciously disheveled hair. I pull him toward me, gently touching his lips with mine, moaning softly against his mouth.
He pulls away and slips out of me, my body complaining about the loss of contact. “We should get cleaned up.”
“We should,” I agree, chuckling when we don’t move. “I’m not sure I can get up yet.”
“Me, either,” he chuckles, taking a couple deep breaths before pushing himself up. Maverick gently lifts my legs off him and moves away, sliding from the bed and walking toward my bathroom.
I watch him walk back out, rubbing a towel over his chest and abs. He makes his way over to me, leaning down and gently moving the towel over my skin, leaving me feeling cared for in a way no other lover ever has. Dropping the towel to the floor, Maverick crawls back into bed, lying next to me, softly playing with my hair.
“Are you staying?” I ask gently.
His gaze searches mine. “Do you want me to?”
Staring into his eyes, I suddenly can’t imagine not having him here. Which is crazy. This is all happening so quickly. I should quietly back away, slow things down.
But I can’t.
The thought of not learning all I can about this man, of never feeling his presence, of not knowing what it feels like to be cared for by him is not something I want to consider.
So I tell him the only thing I can. Yes, I want him around. Want him to stay. Tonight. Maybe the next. And the next after that.
He kisses me. A long kiss full of promises and love.
When he asks me how long I want him to stay, I give him the only answer I can.
“Forever, Maverick. I want you forever.”
Epilogue
Maverick
26 years later
Walking out of my office, I smile, laughter filtering into the hallway from the bar. It has taken a long time to get here, and I’m still sometimes surprised with how far we’ve come.
The day after that fateful night, we took a vote on who should be president and VP. Much to my surprise, as well as Smoke’s, I was to be president with him as VP.
Saying I was humbled was putting it mildly. I vowed to them to never do anything to make them regret voting that way, telling them I’d strive to take care of this club and their families each and every day.
Another surprise that following morning was learning Poot had survived. We doctored him back to health, then sent him on his way. It had been a gamble, letting him leave the club like that, but it turned out to be the right choice.
We didn’t have another brother’s blood on our hands. Last I heard, he’d found his place down in LA.
