Beach Reads Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

We’ve shared a lot since she came to my dorm room that morning, but I still haven’t told her the particulars of the fight or the fact that I’m training for the next one at Carson’s Gym every night after football practice.

  I cock my head, thinking. “Okay, my pet peeve is when you’re watching a horror movie and that one person breaks off from the group to go search. Right then you know that’s the next one who’s going to end up dead. Why are people so stupid?”

  She laughs. “Right! Why don’t they just get in their car and go to Starbucks? At least then they wouldn’t die.” She takes a sip of soda, her red lips curving around the straw. “What’s your favorite color?”

  “Your sweater color…whatever that is.” My gaze lingers on her tits.

  She glances down. “Yeah, you can’t seem to take your eyes off of it. It’s pale blue, by the way.”

  “In my defense, it’s pretty tight,” I point out. My voice lowers. “And you look fucking hot in it.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Okay, if your life is a movie, what’s the soundtrack?”

  “Star Wars theme song.”

  She frowns. “But there’s no words in it. Are you just saying that to get on my good side?”

  I arch my brows. “I’ve already seen your good side, and it’s amazing.”

  She just shakes her head and bites her lip. I’ve been flirting with her constantly for the past half hour, and I really do only have one thing on my mind: getting her alone. Between class, football, boxing, and Raven, I’ve barely seen her.

  I laugh. “Fine. My theme song would be…” I drum my hands on the table for dramatic effect. “We are the Champions by Queen. It’s old school but spot-on.”

  “Why that one?”

  I shrug. “I’m a small-town boy, but I’m going places, and I’ve never stopped fighting to get ahead. Nothing’s going to hold me back, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get where I want to go. I want to win a football championship next year, and then I want to have a stellar career in the NFL.”

  She takes that in, absorbing my words. “Football’s everything to you.”

  I nod. “What’s your song?” I ask.

  “Definitely Beautiful Day by U2. It’s about life giving you lemons but you still find the good. I try to do that, especially after Nana passed. I came to Magnolia and try to live a life she’d be proud of.”

  I look at her, feeling emotion shifting inside my chest. Like me, she’s experienced death, but being with her and talking with her, I’ve never been happier.

  I jump into the question game. “What’s your favorite…position?”

  She pushes her glasses up while her top teeth nibble on her bottom lip. “What do you mean?”

  I lean forward. “Don’t be coy. You know.” I set my napkin down on the table. “Mine is any position with you. I want you so bad right now that I can’t even focus on anything else.”

  A telltale blush steals up her neck to her lovely face.

  God. She’s everything I want, and I spend most of my time thinking about her.

  But, dread tugs at me. I’m worried she’ll discover what I’m doing and be disappointed.

  I tried a while back, rather feebly, to push her away at the baseball party, but once I saw her crying at the gym because Han was gone, all that went out the window.

  She toys with the straw in her drink. “Oh, I know exactly what you meant. I just wanted the question to be clear before I answered it.”

  “Well?” I picture her back in my bed with my head between her legs while she moans my name out.

  “My favorite position is linebacker, of course.” She giggles.

  I lean forward again, my voice low and husky. “I’ve just spent the last hour with you pressed up against me trying my damnedest to do some Latin dance because I like you, and now you’re just teasing me.”

  She lets out a shaky breath. “You’re bossy.”

  “You like it.”

  “I love it,” she whispers, her chest heaving. Her tongue darts out and licks her bottom lip. “Does that even make sense?”

  Heat fires through my body. “It does when it’s the right person.”

  Her eyes hold mine. “How’s this for a little tease? I have a skirt on so you have easy access. What are you going to do about it?”

  Clearly, she is past being nervous with me.

  My cock hardens even more and I stifle down a groan. I look around the restaurant, my head spinning. We’re sitting in a booth toward the back, but it’s definitely not private, and with what I want, I need privacy. I exhale slowly…and have an idea.

  I catch her hand. “I dare you to go to the last stall in the ladies’ room and wait for me.”

  “Now?” She blinks. “Why?”

  “You know why.” I cup her face. “And have your underwear off or there’ll be hell to pay, Buttercup.”

  Her chest rises rapidly, the color in her cheeks flaming. She thinks for a moment then stands rather shakily, gives me a final lingering look, and heads down the darkened hallway that leads to the restrooms.

  I give her five minutes before I pull out a couple twenties that more than cover the bill. Rising up, I’m barely able to walk in my tightened jeans, but I manage to make it over there without anyone glaring at the obvious tent in my pants. At this rate, I’m going to bust a button off my britches.

  Damn. I’m halfway in love with this girl.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Delaney

  Why am I standing in a bathroom stall, you ask?

  Because I want Maverick more than I want air.

  My head spins with heat and pure need. He is a rollercoaster, dangerous and exhilarating; my brain is telling me to jump off and save myself, but my heart yearns to ride it to the end to see if I live or die.

  I hear the door open and the lock slide into place. My heart pounds. The stall I’m in is hot, my skin is hot, and I just might pass out before he—

  The door swings open and it’s him.

  A quivering breath slips out of me.

  I breathe in his masculine scent as he stalks forward and laces his fingers through my hair. His shoulders are broad and taut, as if he’s coiled like a tiger and ready to pounce. I know that feeling well. I’ve been on a tight wire all week, wanting him, worrying about him. For now I lock that away, promising myself I’ll come back to it later.

  He doesn’t speak, just runs his eyes over my face before drifting down to my chest then lingering on my legs. I hold up my purple lace underwear, and he takes them from me with a smoldering look then tucks them in the front pocket of his jeans.

  “Good girl.”

  His eyes come back and capture mine, and I feel weak at the desire I see there. We haven’t even kissed and I feel like I’m going to come apart.

  My breath comes in shallow pants as he places his hands on my shoulders and strokes them down my arms then back up. His fingers drift to the curve of my waist and back up to cup my face. He’s so gentle, and the emotion in his eyes—I gasp at what I see. Is it love burning in his gaze, or is it just passion? I don’t know, but right now I’ll take whatever he gives.

  He kisses me, devouring my mouth with his, nipping at my lips and sighing. One of my hands curls around his neck to pull him closer while the other one plants itself on the hard bulge in his pants. My mouth doesn’t want to let him go, and it feels like it’s the same for him.

  He traces his tongue down my neck to my collarbone, slips his hand under my sweater, and massages my breasts, his fingers tweaking the lace of my demi-bra. I toss my head back and hiss at the pleasure that zips up my spine. He maneuvers my arms out of my sweater and pushes it up around my neck without taking it off. I’m hot with it like that, but I don’t care. All I want is him…this. My nipples strain toward him and I bite my lip when he finally frees them with a snap of the back clasp. He groans as he cups my bare breasts, his expression raw with passion, visceral and primitive. His mouth sucks at a nipple, making me gasp.

  “You’re too beautiful fo
r me,” he says.

  With need and lust rippling through my veins, I try to be careful as I help him take off his t-shirt and sling it over the top of the stall door. Though faint, there are still bruises on his body, and I lean down to kiss each one. A hiss escapes his lips as I trace my fingers over his pink nipples, playing with his skin. My mouth finds them, exploring, tasting him.

  I work my way lower to unbutton his pants and shove them down around his hips. I push at his tight athletic briefs, my fingers stroking over the head of his cock. My mouth follows, tasting him the way I’ve been thinking about all week, and he groans my name.

  While my mouth works him, he reaches his fingers underneath my skirt. He finds me wet and grunts as his finger slides back and forth against my core, teasing me and making me squirm with need. I’m panting around him, feeling like I’m going to come any moment.

  “Do you have protection?” I gasp out. Hurry, hurry is all I can think because it seems like a million years ago that we were together in my bed.

  He gives me a quick nod and tugs a package out of the back pocket of his jeans.

  I watch him slide it over the bulbous head and onto his hard shaft, the veins there long and thick. His eyes look up at me.

  He tugs my neck forward and kisses me, his chest against my breasts. In between kisses he whispers, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  In a rush, he has me picked up as if I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around him, my center resting on his abs. I’m soaked and I don’t care that I’m out of control for him.

  His length nudges at my entrance, easing inside until finally he grunts and sheaths himself fully. Neither of us move a muscle for ten seconds, our faces next to each other, my hands hanging on to his shoulders.

  “Fuck.” He closes his eyes and groans as I begin to move on him, grinding my hips and swiveling.

  He turns so I’m pressed against the wall then withdraws and slides back in, the fullness intense, a sensation I quickly adjust to as he begins again. Hard and fast is the pace, and I can’t get enough. Each time he strokes inside me, it’s like it’s happening all over again for the first time.

  “Mav,” I say as he watches me, detailing every nuance of my reaction. I’ll never have enough of this, of him. He’s ruining me.

  I turn my face to him, gasping for air. His lips kiss my shoulder, sucking hard as my body clenches his cock.

  Sensation gathers, growing warm and then hot at the base of my spine. Arching my back, I take all of him as his hands hold my hips, pushing me harder and harder until I break, shattering into a million pieces.

  I breathe out his name and hang on as his cock swells inside me. He crests over the edge and calls my name.

  His mouth finds mine and kisses me, his hands still holding me up as he pushes into me and shudders.

  I feel supple and loose, like a cat that’s just been fed a big bowl of cream and now only wants to bask in the sun.

  Then I’m reminded of where I am: in the restroom of the local Buffalo Bills.

  He slowly lowers me. “I can’t believe we just did that,” I say as I disentangle myself, my feet finding solid ground.

  I’m wobbly as I straighten my clothes, watching out of the corner of my eye as he disposes of the condom then zips his pants up. I hand him his shirt and he finishes getting dressed, watching me with a considering look on his face.

  “What?” I say, turning to him. I know I must look crazy with my hair everywhere.

  “Nothing, just…happy.”

  Emotion clogs my throat. We’re moving so fast, but I can’t stop it. I can’t. I want him. Maybe I love him. My hands shake as I ease past him to open the stall and step out into the sink area where I turn on the faucet and run cold water over my wrists. I don’t know why I do it, just that my Nana used to do it when she got flustered. It seems fitting.

  He grabs my hands and laces our fingers together. “So are we going back to your place or mine?”

  “I thought you said you had to go work out?”

  “I do, but I want to hold you tonight. I want to wake up and you be there.”

  I smile. “Mine.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Delaney

  Mav-Man: Did you get the gift I left on your porch?

  Me: You mean the stuffed animal wearing a Jedi outfit? Didn’t know it was from you.

  Mav-Man: Minx. Who else buys you stuffed cats? I’ll make you pay for that remark later.

  Me: Can’t wait. XOXO

  I sip from a glass of red wine as I sit across from Maverick inside Giardina’s Italian Grill, an eatery a few blocks from campus. With dark lighting, a ceiling strung with ivy, and a collection of art depicting scenes from Venice on the amber-colored walls, it’s quaint and a popular date night place—which is what we’re doing tonight. Saturdays are busy, and I’m glad Maverick called ahead to reserve a table for four. I cross my legs under the table and uncross them, nervous to be meeting his dad and seeing Raven again.

  He taps his fingers on the table, on edge, perhaps because his dad and sister are officially ten minutes late. He keeps staring at his phone, checking the time and seeing if she’s texted him.

  I study him, taking in the chiseled jawline, the straight angles of his nose and forehead. It’s late March and his hair has grown out; he wears it swept back off his face, the ends curling around his ears. A pale blue button-down shirt with the cuffs rolled up is paired with a pair of jeans that sculpt the taut muscles of his thighs. He smells intoxicating, all earthy and spicy from his shower at my place. Even though he looks great semi-dressed up, my favorite look on him is gym shorts, a tank, and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.

  “You look gorgeous,” he tells me, taking in my demure Peter Pan-collared black dress. The lapels are a stark white with tiny seed pearls I sewed on myself. His hand reaches out and strokes a long finger down my neck, ending at my collar where he tugs me toward him and kisses me lightly on the lips. “I’m with Skye—you should look into fashion when you graduate.”

  I grin. I love how beautiful and talented he thinks I am. “Maybe. I’m not sure what I’ll do after this, maybe grad school.”

  “Where at?” There’s a worry line on his forehead, and I wonder if it’s because he doesn’t want me to go to far from wherever he ends up in the NFL.

  I study the white linen of the tablecloth. “I’m not sure, maybe somewhere back in North Carolina.”

  What I don’t say is I really don’t know because I want to know where he’ll be going next year. I sigh at the prick of fear that rises up at the direction of my thoughts. Maverick is…he’s all I think about. What I felt for Alex doesn’t even compare.

  Just then his phone pings with a text, and he pulls away to glance down at it.

  His face tightens.

  “What’s wrong?” Just a few days ago, a local strip club called about his dad, and Maverick drove to pick him up then took him back to their house, where he spent the rest of the night. He wasn’t able to leave until the nurse showed up for Raven.

  He exhales, his eyes still reading the text. “It’s Raven. Dad hasn’t come home from work yet and isn’t answering his phone. The nurse is ready to go but doesn’t want to leave her alone. She’s gone next door to see if the neighbor is home.” He looks up at me. “He should have been home an hour ago.” He checks his watch.

  “Can you call the garage?”

  He grimaces. “They’re already closed. He’s probably at a bar.” Uncertainty crosses his face and he looks around the room as if searching for answers. He’s told me a lot about growing up with an alcoholic father who rarely had a steady job.

  He looks through his phone and calls a few different numbers to ask if his dad is there, keeping his voice quiet.

  I take his hand. “We can just go to her. That way you won’t be worried and she won’t be upset, and you can figure out what’s going on with your dad later.”

  He looks up. “You don’t mind?”

  “Of cours
e not. She’s your sister.” I pause, seeing from his intensity that this is important to him. “I’ve always wanted a sister, so any sister of yours is a friend of mine,” I assure him.

  “The trip will take an hour if we go get her then come back—and she will want to come back because this is her favorite place. You said earlier you were starving…” He searches my face for a chink in my optimism.

  There isn’t one.

  I smile. “You’ll figure out that I’m pretty easy and laid back. I may be a bit of a nerd, but that doesn’t mean I’m a control freak and have to have everything a certain way.” I gather my purse and jacket off the back of the chair and notice he hasn’t moved yet, a hesitant look on his face. “Is there something else?”

  He stands and takes my arm in a brisk motion, as if he doesn’t want to respond to my question. He lays down more than enough money to cover my glass of wine and gives a nod to the server who brought us our drinks. He explains to her that we have to go but will come back later. A young teen girl who’s obviously a Maverick fan, she tells us they’ll make sure we have a table once we come back.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask as we head to the foyer of the restaurant.

  He exhales. “The thing is…you’ve never seen where I grew up. It’s not much.”

  “You don’t have to apologize for how you grew up. Your humble circumstances made you who you are”—I squeeze his hand—“and you’re one of the most honest, hardworking people I know.”

  “I’m not honest.”

  What? I look at him. “Yes, you are.”

  He doesn’t meet my gaze and I imagine I read remorse on his face, but over what, I can’t imagine.

  “You have stalked me since freshman year…so there’s that.” I give him a soft slap on the shoulder, trying to change his mood.

  He nods and shoots me a brief smile, seeming to come around. “Yeah, and you always dreamed about me even when we weren’t together. You watched me on the field at every home game and wondered what it would be like between us. You may not admit it—because you were seeing Alex—but I know you did.”