by Laura Pavlov
“You know, I’m sure to you this seems fast. We only decided to give this a shot a week ago, I get it. But I’ve known how I felt about you since the day you showed up on my driveway. Hell, to be honest, I think I knew how I felt about you the first time we met, at the wedding. It scared the shit out of me, Peaches.”
Emotion nearly choked her. “How did you feel?”
He let out a long breath. “I love you. I think I have for a long time.”
Her fingers tangled into his wild, unruly hair. Long black lashes framed his gorgeous dark stare, his beautiful face so striking it nearly took her breath away. Tears broke from her eyes and streamed down her already wet face. Emotions so powerful, she just might drown in them. But he had his arms around her to keep her above water. In more than just the literal sense. His thumb swiped at the falling tears and he studied her.
“How can you be sure?” Her voice trembled. She needed to know this was real.
He chuckled at her question. “I don’t say things I’m not sure of. I’ve never told a woman I loved her. And I’ve never been more sure about anything.”
She buried her face in his neck and whispered in his ear. “I love you, too.”
“No way. You don’t get to hide.” He pulled back and forced her to look at him.
Nervous laughter escaped her lips. “So bossy.”
“Only when I want something.”
She placed a hand on his cheek. Her body pressed against all his hardness. God, how would she ever survive this man if he left her? It didn’t really matter because she didn’t have a choice. She was in too deep. There was nowhere to run.
“I love you, Maverick Wallace.”
His mouth came over hers.
Water splashed around them.
She’d read every fairy-tale ever written—and not a single one came close to comparing to this moment. Now, if only he could promise her the happily ever after, too.
Chapter Sixteen
Maverick’s Playbook
You can’t always play it safe!
Three days. Three fucking days until they returned to reality and left this peaceful little bubble they’d existed in for the past eight weeks. They worked out, double workouts for him. They spent long hours remodeling the house. Dinners on the patio beside the lake and boat rides. He was surprised how much he enjoyed their lengthy conversations about their childhoods and their jobs. Nothing compared to lots of fan-fucking-tastic sex, everywhere an opportunity presented itself—the old house, the new house, the guesthouse, the boat, the lake, the patio, he couldn’t get enough of his girl.
Hell, he missed her the brief parts of the day they weren’t together. Dating the same girl was new for him, and their strong physical connection was new for her. It blew his fucking mind. How she hadn’t experienced pleasure from sex before? He’d be lying if he didn’t admit he liked being the one to ignite a fire in her.
The only one.
She’d been convinced they’d get arrested if they had sex on his boat last week. She even insisted he Google the laws for boat sex and sure as shit, there was a law about indecent exposure. He didn’t tell her that. He explained it was private property, and they were out in the middle of the lake with no one around. He tried to convince her the good people in law enforcement encouraged boat sex. The girl was a walking contradiction—innocent and naïve, yet strong and fierce. And sexy as shit all at the same fucking time. He loved everything about her.
His gaze locked with hers as she sipped her wine once they took their seats at the reception for his cousin Brynn’s wedding. Elle’s lacy peach dress clung to her body like a glove. He sat back in his chair and scanned her from head to toe. Nothing beat a slow perusal of his girl. She’d pulled her hair back in some fancy, twisty knot at the nape of her neck, and a few loose waves fell around her gorgeous face. She unknowingly commanded the attention of everyone in the room. People stared, gawked, and admired. Mostly men, but women were entranced with her as well. He didn’t give a shit, as long as they all knew she was his. When it came to Elle Fiore—he was possessive as hell. He’d never been that way before, but with her, it was primal. Instinct.
Maverick’s entire family came out to celebrate the happy couple, including the other half of the wonder twins, his sister, Gigi, who seemed far more entranced with Elle than their cousin’s nuptials. She’d heard about his girlfriend all summer from the rest of the family, who made a big deal that he was actually dating someone. They all loved her, and they weren’t the easiest bunch to win over. The girl was a living, breathing metaphor for a glass half-full. While most people were both dark and light, Elle Fiore was all light. All goodness, with enough sass splashed in to keep her human.
He didn’t know what they’d face when they got back to the city, when their days didn’t revolve around one another. She’d go on to the next job, move back to her condo, and he’d do the same. And hopefully they’d find their place in one another’s lives back home. Hell if he had a clue how to be in a relationship during football season. He’d never met anyone worth trying for. Not before now.
Elle leaned back in her chair, her gaze full of lust and want locked with his.
“Something on your mind, Peaches?” he said, leaning in close to her. He didn’t want to invite his family into their conversation.
“Just thinkin’.”
“Yeah? Are you thinking about what I did to you before we came here?” He grazed her ear with his lips. A pink blush crept up her neck and spread to her cheeks. He fucking loved the way she responded to him. And he knew exactly what she was thinking about, because he was too.
She pushed back a little, and her eyes darted all around the room, making sure his family couldn’t hear their conversation. Which would be a first for his sisters if they kept their nosy asses out of his business.
“We’re at a wedding, Wallace,” she whispered, all flustered as her pretty face flushed again. Fucking adorable.
“No one can hear us over “Pussy Monster” blasting through the speakers. Do you see how hard my father is concentrating right now? He’s convinced he’s hearing the lyrics wrong. Gigi is moments away from going on a #MeToo tirade about how inappropriate this song is by referring to female body parts, and my mother is three glasses of chardonnay in and believes she’s dancing along to a Disney Halloween song.”
Elle’s head fell back in laughter and she scooted her chair closer and leaned into him. “Fair enough. So, tell me. What are you thinking about?”
“Well, I spent the first half of this wedding thinking about how I took you in the shower before we got ready. Now, I’ve moved on to what I want to do to you next.”
Even as the thumping beat pulsed around them, he heard a little gasp escape her. Her puzzled gaze studied him. “I don’t think there’s anything left to do?”
“Not true, Peaches.” He adjusted himself beneath the table. Her nearness mixed with the conversation did crazy things to him.
Gigi’s fist hit the table and the glasses shook, startling them from their conversation. She made this grand announcement about it being the year of the woman. This was her big epiphany. He was all for it. Power to all women everywhere. Hell, his entire family, aside from his father were females. He was all about empowerment; however, right now, he was more enthralled with one woman in particular. His sister’s tirade could wait until tomorrow.
He rested a hand on Elle’s thigh, returning his attention to his girl. She took a long sip from her glass before setting it down as her eyes searched his. “Okay. What haven’t we done? Humor me.”
He reached for her. Couldn’t wait another minute. He pulled her to sit on his lap and wrapped his arms around her small body, taking in her gorgeous scent of honey and coconut. He grazed her ear again and whispered, “I haven’t tasted you yet.”
A gasp he heard over Fifty Cent belting out “In Da Club” which blared through the speakers. She pushed back enough to look at him. Her eyes the size of saucers. “Oh my gosh. No. I’ve never done that.”
; What kind of selfish pricks did she date before him?
“You haven’t?” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, memorizing this new expression on her beautiful face. Concern? Fear?
“No. I’ve never wanted to, and no one’s ever suggested it.”
“Jesus. Where the hell have you been, Peaches?”
The thought of being the first to make her feel pleasure like she’d never felt before caused even more of a strain against his zipper. He shifted her on his lap to save his out of control erection from even more torture, as her ass pressed against him. Surprise hit her when she realized what he was doing.
She leaned close to his ear. “I’ve been waiting for you my whole life, Wallace.”
“Well, thank Christ. Let’s go.” He pushed to his feet and set her down beside him, shoving the chair back abruptly.
“What? They haven’t cut the cake yet, we can’t leave.” A mischievous grin spread across her face.
“Mom, Dad, we’re leaving. I have a migraine,” he announced to his family. His dad who sat completely enthralled with the gangster rap, gave him a thumbs up. His grandmother leaned into Marley and asked her to repeat what he’d said about a migraine, and his mom jumped to her feet, reaching for her purse.
“Oh, no. Let me get you some Excedrin Migraine, sweetie.”
Marley and Gigi both made their way over to him. Let the ten thousand twin power questions begin.
“Bullshit, Mav. You were fine five minutes ago. You don’t have a migraine,” Gigi said making sure only he could hear as she narrowed her gaze.
He didn’t have time for a lengthy debate with her. She had a gift for arguing, and he nor his erection had the patience for it right now. “You’re right, G. I don’t have a migraine. But I do have a raging boner, and no amount of Excedrin is going to help me.”
Elle buried her face in his chest and groaned with embarrassment. She’d be groaning for a different reason in about fifteen minutes if the wonder twins would stop cock-blocking him.
Marley burst into hysterics. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
“He’s still a pig. Sorry you have to deal with him, Elle.” Gigi rolled her eyes in disgust.
“Yeah, but not with one woman. Look at him—all needy and desperate.” Marley laughed along with her evil twin, and his girlfriend joined in. Obviously these three never experienced the discomfort of sporting wood in public.
“Not needy. Just horny.”
“What’s so funny?” His mother pushed in front of Gigi, pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and handed him two capsules. “Here, sweetie, take these. There’s nothing funny about migraines.”
“Thanks, Mom. Sorry to cut out early.” He kissed her cheek, and Gigi gave him the finger as she stood behind their mother.
Marley giggled. “Yeah, we don’t want your temperature to rise, Mav.”
“Don’t worry about my temperature, Nosy Smurf.” He palmed the top of her head and tousled her waves.
“Elle, please take him home and get him right in bed. He needs a good night’s sleep.” His mother insisted.
“I’m sure she’ll tuck him right in, Mom.” Gigi winked at his girlfriend.
“Is it possible for this Hallmark moment to end?” he grumped.
“Yes, sweetie, you go. I’ll check on you in the morning.” His mom patted his cheek before his father pulled her out to the dance floor. Watching his parents dance to “Baby Got Back” might be the antidote for a boner.
He yelped when the skin under his arm twisted in his sister’s fingers, as she pinched him hard. “You have Mom wrapped around your finger, Ferris Bueller.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Take your girl home, but you better plan on hanging out with me tomorrow before I drive back. I want more time with this one.” She thrust her thumb at Elle.
You’re preaching to the choir, naughty twin.
“For a tiny human, you sure are strong.” He laughed and rubbed beneath his arm where she accosted him.
“So dramatic. Love you, brother.” She pushed on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Marley did the same, and they both hugged Elle and made plans for the following day.
“Love you too,” he said, before hurrying his girl past the crowd. The universe was working against him as they were stopped by every intoxicated relative on their way out.
When they made their way to the parking lot, Elle continued to move at a snail’s pace in her heels, careful not to fall. He had zero patience left. He threw her over his shoulder and jogged to his truck.
She slapped his hand away from her ass. “What in the hell is the rush?”
“You’re about to find out. And you’re welcome in advance, Peaches.”
Laughter rumbled from her chest against his back, and he swore on all things holy, this woman was going to be the death of him. Because his sister was right. He was needy and desperate.
He set her down in the truck and she shook her head, falling back in a fit of laughter. “You are ridiculous, Wallace. Looks like your migraine isn’t too bad, huh?”
He pulled the seatbelt across her chest and kissed her mouth hard. “Oh, I’ve got it bad, all right. And you’re about to have your world rocked.”
A nervous smile spread across her face because she knew what he had in mind. He jumped in the driver’s seat and pulled onto the road. When he parked in the driveway, he helped her from the truck, once again, fireman style. He had her sprawled out on his bed within seconds.
As he pushed her dress up to her waist, she grabbed his shoulders and stopped him.
“I need to tell you something?” She panted, her face flush and lips swollen from his mouth on hers.
“You can’t get arrested for this, Peaches. But I think your ex-boyfriends should be under arrest for being selfish pricks.” He pushed the hair back from her face to look at her.
“No, I don’t know. I’m self-conscious about this. You know—you doing this.” She covered her face with her hands.
He pulled her hands down and stared at her. “What’s to be self-conscious about? You’re fucking perfect.”
She smiled and looked away, before meeting his gaze again. “I don’t want it to be gross.”
His head tipped back with laughter. Was she serious? “Do you honestly think I could find anything about you gross? I can’t get enough of you. Trust me, I’m going to love this as much as you are,” he said, wanting to wipe the worry away. He continued, “Okay, tell me something you think is amazing. The most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ummm, let’s see.” She wound her fingers into his hair, making his need for her more urgent. “Best thing I’ve ever tasted? A mint chip milkshake.”
“Ah, got it. Do you know where one gets a mint chip milkshake? Well, they start by milking a filthy, fucking cow. The milk comes from the teat of a large beast, Peaches,” he said, nuzzling her neck with his lips and rubbing his scruff against her the way she liked. Her laugh filled the space around them, and he continued. “And then they probably squeezed the teat into a filthy bucket before taking it to the dairy, which is where your shake comes from. It might be gross if you thought about it, but once it hits those lips, it’s the best goddamned thing in the world.”
She shook her head and smiled, licking her lips as she searched his face. “I’m going to have to take your word for that.”
“Do you trust me, Peaches?” His voice gruff, the anticipation of burying his face between his girl’s thighs was slowly killing him.
“Yes,” she said just above a whisper.
It was all he needed to hear before he made his way down her body. She writhed and moaned, and it took all he had to take it slow. Because this girl was every fantasy he never knew he wanted. Everything he never knew he needed. And as he watched her come apart before his eyes, he swore for the first time in his life that pleasing her was better than pleasing himself. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
And that alone scared the living sh
it out of him.
Chapter Seventeen
Elle’s Tip of the Day
Find yourself a man who makes you grin like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater and hold on tight with everything you’ve got!
Well, stick a fork in her.
She.
Was.
Done.
Every positive Southern saying she’d ever heard played on fast track through her mind.
She felt finer than a frog hair.
If she were any peachier, she’d be a cobbler.
Someone cue the confetti because this girl had a whole lot to celebrate.
Maverick Wallace managed to set her world on fire in every sense of the word. And lying here, naked as a jaybird, her body may as well be floatin’ above the mattress. Sure as cornbread goes with greens—the man was a livin’ dream.
Thoughts like this weren’t good. But for the love of Pete she couldn’t stop them. She stretched her arms over her head. She’d never slept naked. Never. Didn’t believe in it. But right now—you couldn’t pay her to put on a stitch of clothing. And hells bells, if it wasn’t a slice of heaven being wrapped in Maverick’s arms all night. Well, they hadn’t slept much. The man kept her up half the night.
He walked back in the room. Her bat senses on high alert where he was concerned.
“How are you feeling, sleeping beauty?” His navy joggers were slung low on his hips, his chest bare. The man was a walking GQ ad. All ripped and manly. He handed her a glass of water and dropped down on the bed to lie beside her. Mint and sandalwood wrapped her in a warm hug.
“Never better,” she said, her voice raspier than she expected.
He chuckled. “Same here. You’re sweeter than any mint chip milkshake I’ve ever had, Peaches.”
“Oh my gosh. Stop.” She pulled the sheet up over her face. Her entire body flushed.
He pushed the sheet away and nuzzled her neck, propping himself above her. “I love waking up with you. We need to talk about what we’re going to do when we get back to the city.”
Maverick was driving back tomorrow, but she’d stay a few extra days. Her boss, Camille was coming to walk through the finished project in two days and oversee the photo shoot by Interior Décor Magazine. They were a huge national publication and Camille pulled a lot of favors to get this feature story. Everyone wanted to see how the famed quarterback lived.