Crazy Good

by Rachel Robinson

  He tilts my chin up. “Windsor the rambler is speechless?”

  If I started talking now I wouldn’t stop for days. He brushes a tear off my face with his warm thumb.

  “Say something or I’ll think you hate it and think I’m…”

  I cut him off with a finger against his lips. When he silences I lay my hands on his stubbly face and bring his forehead to mine. “Thank you,” I whisper. “I don’t think you could have done anything more…perfect. This means the world to me—it means more than words ever could.” I rub my hand down to his chest once more, making sure it’s real. His eyes stay locked with mine. The untouchable place inside Maverick is open. To me. “You make me look bad. All I did is make dinner,” I say, giggling a little. The big smile is on his face and doesn’t seem to wane like it usually does.

  He stands from the chair, picking me up with him, like I’m a throw pillow. I wrap my legs around his waist and lock my arms around his neck. “I am pretty hungry. Baring my soul really takes it out me. I want to eat whatever smells so delicious, then take a shower to wash off the airplane,” Maverick says, setting me down on a bar stool in front of the plates I’ve set out.

  “Then what?” I ask, not releasing his neck.

  He leans over and places a scorching kiss on the hollow of my neck. “Then I have a lot of fucking begging to do,” he rasps in my ear, tickling me and sending a thrill directly to my sex.

  Tonight is going to be a trifecta of awesome.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maverick

  “What exactly are in all of these bottles?” I ask as I yank off my pants at the entrance of the wet room. The only answer I get is a bout of her sweet laughter. I fucking love the pink bottles crowding my solitary green one. I’m on top of the damn world right now. Windsor loved the tattoo. It took a little longer than it should have for her to respond after I revealed it, but the wait was worth it. I’ll replay her response constantly. I’ve also decided I should write her a million songs because of how she reacted to that. The emotion was almost too much for me to handle. I rarely crack, but that was the closest I’ve come.

  “Where did you learn to sing and play like that?” she asks. Her tiny frame, barefoot, is leaning against the shower wall, away from the showerhead I have turned on. She’s eyeing me like musical talent is the last thing she’s interested in. I work the soap in my hands and rub it on my body, sliding it down my legs. Her eyes are glued to my dick when I cup my junk and wash it.

  Long seconds pass. “I taught myself mostly, but I played when I was a kid too.” I clear my throat. “Like what you see?”

  “Huh?” Windsor glances up, eyes round. Caught. Just her eyes on my body make me hard. She’s fully clothed and I can’t help but remember last night when I saw the woman, Lexi in the bar. I didn’t feel like this, my body didn’t have this reaction to her. In fact, my body has only reacted like this to Windsor. Especially my damn heart—beating like a drum. I want her. I’m going to have her. She will finally be all mine. Tonight.

  She swallows hard. “You know I do. It’s probably my favorite sight…better than the Alps or the Grand Canyon; possibly even a quaint town in France.” She grins. “I actually have a small confession to make, too. It’s nothing crazy, but with your streak of confessions it makes me want to tell you everything. I sort of do anyways. Whether you want me to or not.”

  “I love when you ramble,” I say, washing the soap out of my hair. She bites her lip. My self-control teeters on the fucking edge. I want to pull her in, clothing and all, and have my way with her. I’ve said the word “love” more times in one night than I have during my entire life. “Ramble on. Confess your sins. I’ll tell you how many Hail Mary’s you need to do after.” I grab one of her bottles, open it, and give it a quick sniff. It smells like her hair. Fucking delicious. I pour some in my hand and scrub it into my hair just for good measure. Windsor shakes her head, laughing.

  “Nash has been calling. He called a few days ago to apologize. He wants to be friends. Just friends. He knows how out of line he was at the conference. Well, you showed him exactly how out of line he was. He knows we’re together.”

  Fuck. I haven’t even left yet and he’s moving in. I know his game—I know exactly what angle he’s playing. I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak.

  “It’s easy to talk to him about my Mom. He’s known her…and our avalanche of problems for a long time.”

  And there it is, a history I can’t compete with. The past is the only thing you can’t control. I know this all too well. I might have to make a visit to the Nashhole before I leave. He’s obviously not clear on what’s mine. I’ll make it crystal clear.

  I shrug, playing at nonchalance. It’s important she think it doesn’t bother me in the least. “That’s fine. At least he apologized for all of his shortcomings,” I say, reminding her exactly why she didn’t talk to him for years. Though I’m sure she knows. My hard-on took a nosedive the second she mentioned his name. His dick has been inside her. I can’t even say that. I slam the lever to turn off the water. She jumps a little at the noise.

  “You’re not mad are you?” she asks. If I were mad, she wouldn’t have to ask.

  I run a towel over my head to dry my hair and cover my face. “No. I’m just surprised. You told me how badly he hurt you and yet you throw him a bone? It doesn’t make sense. If it makes you feel better then do what you want. I’ll kill him if he hurts you again.” I will.

  She snaps the towel out of my hands and throws it to the bottom of the wet shower. I can’t help but cringe a little. My obsessive-compulsive tendencies circle around cleanliness and organization. A towel on the floor fits both of those categories. Forgive her Father, she knows not of her sins.

  “I don’t want him, Mav. I want you,” she says, running her hands over my biceps. She knows I’m jealous even though I haven’t breathed a word. “Whenever you forget that remember this.” Windsor drops to her knees and pulls my dick into her warm mouth. The sight of her fully dressed inside the wet room is odd, and a gigantic turn on. My dick in her mouth? Well, that’s just complete fucking nirvana. My head falls back without my permission as she works me into frenzy. Her tiny hand wraps almost all the way around my cock as she sweeps the sides with her tongue and lips. The gentleness is just for show because when I look down and meet her gaze, whale eyeing me, it’s completely evil—in the best kind of way. I give her the smile she loves and it makes her work my dick even better. Hand. Mouth. Tongue. When I pop out of her mouth and she laps at my balls I groan. It echoes through my bathroom. I fist my hand into her hair, which she didn’t want to get wet, and guide her mouth back onto my dick.

  “That feels so good, Win. Lets take this into the bedroom. Come on…” I grind out. The last thing I want is for her to stop, but if I have any hope of lasting tonight, I need to her to.

  “Are you sure?” she asks, humming the words around my dick. No. I’m lying. Yes I’m sure. Thinking with both heads at the same time blows. Literally.

  With effort, I nod. She stands up, a string of spit connecting her to me. I wipe her bottom lip with my thumb and kiss her. I taste Windsor. I want to bottle this fucking flavor and drink until I’m drunk. Her blue eyes are heavy, glazed with lust, her pupils almost completely dilated.

  I ask, “Can I have you?” It’s a loaded question.

  Resting her hand over my new tat, she says, “I thought you’d never ask.” She pushes away from me, her wet feet slapping the floor. She doesn’t turn around or take her eyes off my body as she backs into the bathroom and then into the bedroom. I don’t take my gaze off her either. Adrenaline hits me in spades as I watch her, the innocent way she moves, not even knowing how fucking hot she is. The way her black dress hugs certain spots of her body each time she takes a step back, the way my breathing speeds up to control all the chemicals in my body trying to rear up to do what it’s good at. I want to dominate her. I want her to know she’s mine. I want to erase any guy who has ever been inside
her. I will fill her so completely that there’s no room inside her heart for anyone else.

  Her dress falls to the floor in front of the bed revealing a deep red corset and matching panties that I. Will. Tear. Off. With. My. Teeth.

  If she’s nervous, it doesn’t show. “How bad do you want me, T.H.?” She swings her long brown hair around to cover one shoulder. “Beg for it,” she commands. I couldn’t resist if I tried. I take a few more steps and hit my fucking knees in front of her. This, right now, is a moment of unfettered weakness I’ve never known the likes of. Whatever it takes to make her mine. No cost is too high.

  I swallow, because I’ve forgotten to do that since she undressed and because she is the fucking definition of mouthwatering. I wrap my hands around her smooth, tan thighs. “I want you, Windsor. Let me have you,” I say, looking up into her huge blue eyes. The doe-eyed innocence is gone, replaced with need…desire. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot. She bites her lip and narrows those same eyes, calculating something. “I’m begging you. Let me have you,” I plead, my tone harsh. “Please make love to me.”

  “One condition,” she replies.

  Anything. I’ll give her anything she asks for: Diamonds, marriage, screeching kids, an ugly white fucking picket fence—all of it hers if she has me…and keeps me. These thoughts don’t even scare me anymore, because they’re true, honest. I would do anything for her. Not just to have sex with her either—because I want to. Because I need to. Because she is my future. Fuck me, I’m attached.

  “Anything,” I breathe, already primed to say yes to whatever comes out of her perfect fucking mouth next.

  “Always be honest with me. I can deal with a lot. You just have to be honest with me.”

  Fuck.

  “You don’t want me anymore? Tell me. Don’t cheat on me. You have something to say? Say it. No lies. Lies are deal breakers. Agree?”

  I pause for a few beats, because how do I tell her I began our relationship on lies? That my past is full of blonde monster lies? I can’t. I’d lose her. So I give her the last lie to fill the jar and seal it tight. “I promise,” I say. And then a truth, “And just to be clear…I will always want you, Windsor. Always.” I stroke her legs travelling up to her red, wet panties and pull them aside to look at her perfectly sculpted landing strip. I scoot a little closer and kiss the top of it. The scent of her arousal hits me. My balls tighten and, if possible, my dick gets even harder.

  A hot little noise exits her mouth. “We have a deal then,” she moans. “Now get off your knees and get on top of me. Where you belong.” No one can ever accuse me of not taking orders.

  Standing, I back her into and then onto the bed. I notice a pink toy? Vibrator? Dildo? Sitting on top.

  I pick it up. “Bob,” she explains. “My boyfriend. You remember.” I roll it around in my hand, contemplating. It could be fun—if I wasn’t strung out on the idea of being inside her. Nothing is going to take my place tonight.

  “Let him know he doesn’t get to Windsor dive tonight. You and he are taking a break.”

  She bites her lip, and it’s more suggestive than being straight up propositioned for sex. I stalk toward her on my hands and knees. I see red. Not only her fucking lace underthings, it’s connected to passion…lust, and God be damned…love. I drop my head and kiss her shoulder, then her chest above the swell of her breast, all the while sliding her panties off.

  She throws her arms above her head, wiggling the fucking dick blockers off and kicking them across the room. “Nice distance,” I whisper into her ear.

  Windsor grabs my face and forces me to kiss her. “I’ve dreamed about doing that forever. Never say I don’t go the distance for my man.” She rolls over. “Get this freaking thing off me. And fast,” she cries. My fat fingers work the laces and I’m struck with a thought. Other than the fact that her round ass is the finest specimen I’ve ever seen.

  “How did you get this on?”

  “Gretchen,” she breathes out, trying to help with the laces but only tangling them more. Premeditated seduction, then—I never stood a chance.

  “They should sew emergency releases into this these things.” If I wasn’t so focused on fucking her, I’m sure I’d be coming up with a new corset release system in my head. She rolls onto her back.

  “Break it. Just get it off me. I need you now.” I stare at her and the remnants of what covers her and I come to the only one conclusion.

  “You didn’t have any kind of attachment to this did you?” I reach over to my nightstand and grab my black, extremely sharp knife and a condom, which is a new mainstay in my house. Straddling her slim legs, I think about the combination of the two things. A condom and a knife seem really fucking strange, but I don’t have the patience to think about it long.

  Windsor sighs. “This ole’ thing? I hate it.” I flash the knife. She giggles. You laugh when someone holds up a knife when you’re crazy or when you have the upper hand. Windsor has both. Crazy good, of course.

  “Don’t move,” I order. She licks her lips. I grab the fabric with one hand and slice it at the bottom. I toss the knife back on the stand and then grab each side of the tear and pull it apart, like a fucking stripper. It makes the most satisfying ripping sound that I can’t help the smile on my face. Now she’s biting her lip in that impossibly hot way of hers. I yank down and her breasts pop free. I slide it over her ass and toss the thing away, making sure it lands further away than her panties. I win.

  She notices. “It’s not so much about distance as speed…and length,” Windsor confesses. My dick twitches to prove her point. There’s too much talking, not enough action. Grabbing the condom off the bed and waving it like a white flag, she whispers, “Is it wrong that I am so turned on right now, and I’m not sure if it’s because you’re naked or because you used a knife to cut off my lingerie?”

  We’re on the same page. Same fucking word. With her lying beneath me, naked, and looking at me like I’m the fucking Hope diamond, I know I don’t deserve this.

  But I’m going to take it anyway.

  I snatch the condom out of her hand and have it rolled down my dick in the next second. Our lips crash together in furious need. All these weeks…months of denying each other have turned our bodies into machines, desiring only one thing: each other. Running my hand down the side of her body, down her leg, and then landing right at her soaking wet pussy, I feel so fucking stupid for not taking her sooner.

  “You are so wet,” I say. I slide down and replace my fingers with my mouth. She writhes against my mouth like she’s trying to get it inside her. She tastes so good that I can’t lick up enough of her. She pulls her knees up, exposing herself in that awesome porno kind of way. I’m seconds away from losing it completely and plunging inside her.

  “Maverick,” she cries. She’s begging now, and I can’t fucking stand to hear it after what I put her through to fight off my own God damned demons. She waited because of me. She got me. I kiss up her stomach and chest.

  “I’m here, baby. I’m here,” I say, kissing her lips. Making out with her delicious mouth almost makes me forget how close to taking her I am. She raises her hips and my dick hits her opening, warm and inviting and my wildest fucking dream. Her blue eyes fly open at the contact and I see the sweet tenderness that resides there. She reaches between our bodies and grabs me with her hand, guiding me up to her clit and then back to hot center over and over.

  I have the fleeting thought that I should lay down and bring her on top of me so she’s in control of this. So she’s the one responsible for the whole thing. Windsor will be the one controlling it, but I don’t because I want this—to know that I have complete control over her, and because somehow I feel like I owe her this after denying her for so long. I’m choosing her.

  With her free hand she grabs the side of my face. “Make love to me,” she says. It’s a simple request, though I somehow know nothing will ever be simple when it comes to us.

  She lifts her hi
ps up and the head of my dick slides into her. Arching her back, I feel her hands slide down to grab my ass. She pulls me into her a little more. I hiss in raw delight. My head falls into the crook of her neck. I can’t control my breathing or my body. Thrusting until I hit the back, I start moving, like really fucking moving in this tempo that feels so good that I know I’ll have to switch it up soon so I don’t blow my load during the first minute of sex.

  “You are so fucking tight. You feel so good,” I rasp at her throat, kissing her, worshipping every centimeter of skin my mouth can find. I’m so consumed with how good she feels that I barely hear her moaning and panting. It’s like the chorus to my favorite song. Windsor’s song. She tilts her hips and meets me thrust for thrust, like we were made to fuck each other. Skin slaps as I change the pace, a pace I know she loves because she’s holding onto my ass to keep me moving.

  She turns her head searching for my lips. I kiss her while I fuck her. I’ve never done this before. Well, maybe before I knew what it meant. It feels good. Her tongue licking my tongue while my dick is inside of her makes me feel connected to her in some different way. She’s not a bag. Windsor isn’t a one-night stand with a wet hole and fake tits. I love her. I fucking love her.

  Against my lips she moans, “I’m coming, Mav.” Well, I’ll be damned. All it takes is three words out of her mouth and I’m about to snap. Her face isn’t frenzied like it usually is when I use my fingers or mouth to fuck her. It’s different.

  “Come for me. Come on my dick. I want to feel you on me,” I say, making sure I keep my dick moving at the same speed. I want this to be perfect for her. I try to think of every uncomfortable situation I’ve ever been in to keep from coming too early. Windsor grabs my ass and pulls it toward her, causing my dick to go all the way in, and then she explodes around me.