Say You're Mine

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Say You're Mine Page 48

by Alexis Winter


  “Baby, you don’t need to do that,” he says—his face a mixture of pleasure and torture as I continue to work his cock with my hand.

  “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Let me take care of you.”

  Not waiting for a further objection, I kiss the tip of his cock before wrapping my lips around it. I’ve never been a huge fan of giving blowjobs. They felt more like a requirement. A means to eventual sex.

  But with Maverick? I could do this every day knowing how much pleasure it gives him, and strangely, how much pleasure it gives me. I can feel myself getting wetter by the second just from the moans coming from him. The way he has my hair wrapped around his fist, gently tugging on my it as I move back and forth on his length.

  My tongue begins swirling around him as I work him with my lips, and I can feel him tense—his hands gripping my hair just a little tighter.

  “Baby, stop,” he says as he pulls me back.

  “What? I thought you liked it?”

  “I did. Too much. But I need to be inside you. Literally five minutes ago.”

  I giggle as he bends down, scooping me up. I’ve never been so hot for a man that we could barely make it inside the door before our clothes began coming off. Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t strip Maverick in his truck.

  He tosses me on the bed, making me bounce a bit as I hit his soft mattress. My laugh continues as he begins shedding his clothes. He’s going so fast he nearly falls trying to get his leg free from the last pant leg.

  “What’s so funny, woman?” he says, now stalking toward me in all his naked glory.

  “Nothing at all,” I say, giggling, as I try to put on a serious face.

  “I don’t believe you,” he says, unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans in one swift motion, then grabbing the material around my hips and pulling them off my legs with so much force I almost come flying off the bed. My underwear isn’t far behind.

  My laughs stop as his mouth descends on my center, which is hot, wet, and ready for Maverick. It has been all night. His tongue and lips are taking me like he needs to taste me to survive. Then he adds two fingers, working me fast and hard. It’s my undoing.

  “Maverick! Oh my God! Fuck me now!”

  He answers my shouting request, moving away just enough to grab a condom from his nightstand and quickly roll it on.

  I’m still panting, recovering from the orgasm that came all of a sudden, when Maverick is back on top of me. But he’s not entering me. Instead, the look he’s giving me is concerning.

  “Maverick? Are you okay? Do you not want to?” I was so sure we were on the same page. Did I read him wrong?

  He quickly kisses me, melting away my worries. “The last time we did this . . . I just want to make sure you’re in this, Scarlett. Because I can’t have you . . . I won’t have you again unless this is permanent. Unless I know we are in this together. That you are mine.”

  I cup his face, bringing his lips to mine. I hate that I put this worry in his head, but I don’t blame him for being cautious. Wasn’t I doing the same thing these past weeks?

  “I’m here, Maverick. I want this. I want us.”

  That’s all Maverick needs to hear as he slowly buries himself in me. His weight on top of me feels divine. I feel loved, safe, cherished, and so fucking good as his cock goes in and out of me. I can feel every inch of him and I’ve never felt anything more perfect.

  “More, Maverick. I need more.”

  “Take what you want, pretty girl. Take it all.”

  He rolls me over, never leaving me, and I situate myself on top of him. I’ve been on top a few times with my handful of partners, but mostly because they were lazy. This right here? This is Maverick letting me take what I want. Letting me be in control of my pleasure.

  I fucking love it.

  I grip on to his pecs, loving how defined they feel under my hands, and begin rocking back and forth on him. The stroke is hitting me right in that spot only Maverick knows how to reach. Before I know it, I’m all but bouncing on him, chasing my release.

  He senses my urgency and grabs my hips, guiding me up and down on him. My hands go flying back, now holding on to his thighs as I grind into him.

  “So close, Maverick. Take me there.”

  In a breath, Maverick is back on top of me, thrusting in and out of me at a furious pace. In no time at all, we find our release and collapse next to each other, both out of breath.

  “I’ve never done that before,” I admit to him as I place my head on his shoulder, his arms immediately wrapping around me.

  “Which part?”

  “Taking what I want,” I say, hoping he understands the multiple meanings.

  He places a kiss on my head, squeezing me a little tighter. “And what is it you want, pretty girl?”

  I return the kiss, placing my lips on his chest—right over his heart.

  “You. Us. Everything.”

  32

  Maverick

  “Um, Maverick?”

  “Yes, pretty girl?”

  I brace myself for what’s about to come, because Scarlett is either going to be over-the-moon excited or royally pissed at me. There is no in-between.

  As I look at her from my seat on the couch as she stands at the top of the stairs, I can’t get a read on her. Her arms are crossed like she does when she’s about to yell at Grant, but her face doesn’t give off that kind of angry vibe.

  The woman has a poker face like none I’ve ever seen.

  “Where’s my stuff?”

  “What do you mean?” I shrug, grabbing my phone to busy my hands and give me a reason to look elsewhere. Maybe I can find a new Pinterest recipe?

  She stomps over, ripping the phone from my hands and tossing it out of arm’s length. She’s pissed. I also now have a first-person experience with what I’m sure Grant has in store for him over the next 15 years.

  “I mean, I went downstairs to take a shower before I picked up Grant from daycare, so naturally I went to grab some clothes to put on, when lo and behold, I realized none of my clothes were in their drawers. And neither were Grant’s. My child might be a tiny adult, but I doubt he has the skills to be rearranging dresser drawers at his age. So, again, I’ll ask if you know what happened to my things.”

  I guess I don’t need to wonder about her reaction anymore. Steam is basically coming out of her ears.

  “I moved everything upstairs,” I say, ripping off the Band-Aid.

  “You did what?”

  “I moved it upstairs.” I get up, hoping that walking toward the kitchen will help. Then it occurs to me that I’ve just put myself in a room with sharp objects. I really need to be smarter about this stuff.

  “Why would you do that?”

  I stop, taking a seat on one of the kitchen stools while pulling her into me. With my arms around her waist, and her body between my legs, she fits perfectly here. She fits perfectly into my life. Which is why I decided that she needed to be upstairs with me.

  Since date night, she’s spent every night in my bed. Check that: we’ve spent most of the night together, with a baby monitor next to us in case Grant needs anything. And every morning, she creeps downstairs to make sure she’s there when he wakes up. And she’s sneaky. Never once have I felt or heard her get up.

  Maybe because with her next to me, I’m getting the best sleep of my life.

  So this morning, after yet another glorious night of lovemaking and sleep, as I again found the left side of my bed empty, I decided that the basement was too far away.

  “Is it so wrong to want you up here with me?”

  “It’s not,” she sighs, putting her arms around my neck. “But you could have asked. Did you ever consider that I would’ve just said yes and made it easier for you?”

  “Would you have said yes?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Exactly.” I bring her in for a kiss, which she doesn’t fight. I can feel the anger melting away as she relaxes in my arms.

 
I pull away just enough to keep our foreheads touching.

  “Are you mad at me?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “No, but I do think we need to talk about it. We aren’t exactly doing things in order.”

  “What’s your worry?”

  “Where will Grant sleep?”

  “I have a guest room. He can decorate it any way he likes. It’s right across from my room, where I hope you will sleep. But if you aren’t ready to completely move in with me and share my bed every night, then I can clear out my office and we can turn that back into a bedroom for you.”

  This surprises her. “You would do that for me?”

  I give her another soft kiss, still amazed that this woman doesn’t realize I’d literally do anything for her.

  “Baby, I’d do just about anything you asked me to do. Hell, I’d buy you a new house if you wanted it. And yes, I realize the irony of my words, but it’s true. I want you up here with me. I hate waking up to find you gone. I want our stuff mixed together. I want your toothbrush next to mine. I want to wake up in the morning and roll over to scoop you back into my arms. Maybe a little morning sex?”

  She slaps my arm, but a giggle escapes and I know I’m in the clear.

  “I told you, Scarlett. I’m in this. For you. For Grant. For us. Yes, I know we’ve done some things out of order. But I don’t want you guys going downstairs at the end of the night. I want you up here, with me.”

  She studies me for a minute and I swear if I didn’t know any better, I’d say there’s love in her gaze.

  “You’re something else, you know that?”

  She bends in to kiss me, which I deepen. She doesn’t pull back, but instead wraps her legs around me, sitting herself on my lap as I balance us against the seat.

  In no time at all, our kiss deepens further and she’s grinding against me, my cock growing harder by the second.

  Not able to take it anymore, I stand up, with her legs still wrapped around me, and I place her on the kitchen island. In one move, I push down her panties and scrub pants, and dive into her hot center.

  After she told me that I was the only man to ever go down on her, it lit a fire I didn’t know existed in me. I want to do it every day. Multiple times a day.

  I dive in, flicking my tongue rapidly as I part her folds with my fingers. I’ve just begun my daily feast and I can already feel her warm juices.

  I slow my tongue—kissing and sucking on her clit as I work my fingers in and out of her. Her hips are bucking off the counter and I know she’s close to coming.

  I reach up, and even though she’s wearing a shirt and bra, I know that just one tweak of her nipple will get her to explode. Which is what I need right now. What she needs right now.

  “Maverick!”

  Her hips are thrashing on the counter as her orgasm rips through her. I bring her down slowly, leaving soft kisses on her thighs.

  I go and grab a towel from the drawer, dampening it with warm water, and walk back over to my girl, who looks like a vision—sated and relaxed on my kitchen counter. I break out in a smile, not able to hold it in.

  “What are you smiling at?” she asks as I help her off the counter.

  I place a kiss on her lips, hoping she can taste herself.

  “I no longer hate this room. In fact, it might be one of my favorites.”

  33

  Scarlett

  It’s amazing how some things have changed in just a short while.

  It didn’t seem so long ago that the six of us were getting together for our initial meet-and-greet. Annabelle and Jaxson had just started dating, and they wanted their friends to get to know each other. It all began at this bar, playing a ridiculous game of Never Have I Ever, with a lot of laughs coming that night and the evenings that followed.

  Who knew that in the blink of an eye, all of us would be paired off, the happiest we’ve been in our lives?

  I remember seeing Maverick for the first time that night. His jeans were tight in all the right places. His Henley showcased every chest and arm muscle. I remember having to remind myself to stop staring at him. He was by far the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on. But I knew, or at least I thought, that I’d never have a chance. So I just admired from afar.

  Who would’ve thought that one day I’d be living with him and he’d be giving me daily orgasms? Sure as hell wasn’t me. But I’m not complaining. For the first time in, well, ever, I’m truly happy with all aspects of my life.

  “Where’s Grant tonight?” Annabelle asks as I take my seat at our normal table.

  “Don’t ask,” Maverick grumbles before heading to the bar to get us a round of drinks.

  “Who pissed in his Wheaties today?” Tori asks, plopping herself down across from me and Annabelle.

  “We got a sitter. Her name is Sarah and she’s lovely. But he almost made the poor girl cry before we left,” I say, taking my drink from a still-pouting Maverick.

  “I just wanted to know her qualifications. Is that too much to ask?”

  “She’s the 16-year-old daughter of a man who has worked for you since the garage opened. She has a ton of sitting experience. She’s a Girl Scout and a straight-A student. She knows CPR and is also a certified lifeguard. I’m pretty sure we hit the babysitter jackpot with her and you’re going to ruin it! That girl is a freaking unicorn!”

  “She didn’t seem very confident when I was asking her questions.”

  “Well, maybe because you were interrogating her before she even walked in the house! Seriously, why did you need to know the names of her 10 closest friends?”

  “Because maybe they’ll come over and try to throw a party. You never know these days!”

  Our bickering stops and I realize all eyes are on the two of us.

  “What?” I ask, genuinely confused.

  “Oh, nothing,” Tori says with a coy smile.

  “No, seriously, what?”

  Our four friends look at each other, having a silent conversation before Kalum speaks up.

  “You two are arguing like an old married couple and we fucking love it.”

  I look at Maverick and all I can do is smile as he leans in and places a kiss on my cheek.

  “I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he says, putting an arm around me. “It’s just, this is the first time we’ve left Grant with a sitter who isn’t related to us. You have practice at this. I don’t.”

  And down goes another wall around my heart, and by the looks on Tori and Annabelle’s faces, his words might have caused a few other ovaries to explode.

  “Dude, shut the fuck up,” Kalum says. “Keep saying shit like that and I’m going to be in trouble for something.”

  “I would never!” Tori says, feigning mock shock.

  “You picked a fight last week over a sandwich just so we could have makeup sex.”

  She smiles and shrugs, taking a sip of her drink as the conversation begins to flow. I had a decent number of friends growing up. Granted, our town was super small, so you only had so many people to pick from, but I never felt alone.

  But this? Right here? This tribe is more than friendship. This is my family.

  At this moment, I can see it all—a few years down the road—all of us married, with a few kids running around. Instead of nights at the bar, it’s BBQs at our place. Birthday parties. A little Tori running around driving Kalum insane. A miniature Jaxson acting grumpy.

  “What are you thinking about?” Maverick asks in a whisper, his breath against my ear leaving chills up and down my arm.

  “Nothing,” I say, not wanting to freak the guy out. Plus, those thoughts are years down the road. I’ll be done with school and Grant will be older. There’s no rush for what I saw. It will come in due time.

  The night is light and easy, each of us having side conversations and catching up on life. The drinks are flowing and I’m so engrossed in a story Jaxson is telling about one of his new fighters at the gym that I almost don’t catch the color draining from Kalum’s face.
/>   “What is it?” Maverick asks, turning to see what he’s looking at. His hand flexes a bit around my shoulder, which makes me turn around too.

  And all I can see is Amy in all her slutty, fake-tit glory.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Tori asks, a little louder than she probably would have were she not four drinks deep.

  “Holy shit. Is that Amy?” Jaxson says.

  “Who’s Amy again?” Annabelle asks.

  “The bitch Maverick used to fuck. At least, I hope it’s in the past tense,” Kalum says, eyeing his brother.

  Maverick turns around. “Yes. I haven’t been with her in months. And I told her it was over. Hopefully, she gets the hint and leaves us alone.”

  And she does. Thankfully. Though I do catch the looks she shoots me throughout the night, especially when she sees Maverick kiss me to shut me up as I’m about to say something he doesn’t want revealed to the group. I was five seconds away from dropping his Pinterest secret.

  That’s when I knew I’d had a few too many.

  Annabelle lets out a yawn and we all take that as our cue to leave. We gather our things and head toward the door, with Maverick and me leading the way.

  “Did you think you could leave without saying hi, Mav?” Amy asks, conveniently stepping in front of us. I bet she’s been waiting all night for this.

  “Hi, Amy. Bye, Amy. We’re actually heading out.” Maverick squeezes my hand, trying to pull me with him, but she doesn’t budge. And being the gentleman he is, it’s not like he’s going to bulldoze a woman at a crowded bar. Even though he should.

  “Are you two actually together?” she says, looking at me like I’m a bug on the bottom of her shoe.

  “Yes, actually. Amy, let me introduce you to my girlfriend, Scarlett.”

  I don’t extend my hand, because that would be a sign of respect, and I have none for her right now. I don’t care that she and Maverick used to sleep together. That was before me, so no sense in getting angry about the past. But the way she’s looking down at me, looking at me like I don’t deserve to be with Maverick, makes my blood boil.

 

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