“Oh.” Her face fell, her eyes flashed with disappointment, and he wanted to stay. He wanted to do anything in his power to wipe that look away. Hell, he wanted her to throw him a smile again. Fuck, he even wanted to suggest they go into the living room and watch a movie, or do anything she wanted so he could stay in her space. “Good night, then,” she said softly, faking a smile, disappointment still in her eyes.
“Night.” His voice sounded too hoarse. Everything inside of him yelled to turn and reach out for her with every step he took, but he didn’t.
“Mav?” she called out, and he only turned his head, hoping she wouldn’t catch sight of the very big bulge at the front of his shorts. “I like the haircut.” And he stopped in his tracks.
“Thanks.” He gave her a chin lift, changing his mind about going to bed, and headed straight to the bathroom.
He needed a fucking cold shower.
Sofia
Damn! Why did he have to be so damn hot?
And sweet.
And funny.
His laugh alone made me squirm, ruining my panties in the process.
God, I’m a freak! A slutty freak!
Sitting at the dining table alone, I bit into my toast, letting the hazelnutty goodness hit the taste buds on my tongue. With a sigh, I stared toward the bathroom.
I could hear the water running, and my mind ran with wild images of Maverick.
Maverick Bridges.
Naked.
Water dripping and sluicing down his body.
Without thinking, as if my feet had a mind of their own, I walked to the bathroom.
It’s on the way to my room, I tried to justify, even as I stopped in front of the door. The door wasn’t closed all the way.
Biting my lip, I wondered if I had lost my ever-loving mind. I needed to stop. I couldn’t walk in.
I shouldn’t.
But I didn’t stop. Nope. Because it was official. I was not only a slutty crazy woman, but a slutty peeping perv.
The bathroom was filled with steam and a masculine scent clinging to the thick, warm air. Probably Maverick’s body wash. It was spicy and clean, so good my thighs clenched tightly, seeking some kind of relief. When a loud, deep groan echoed in the bathroom, my breath hitched in my throat.
“Fuck,” he cursed in a tone so deep it made my clit pulse.
The hand at my mouth moved from my collarbone. The tips of my fingers slid over the silky material of my pajamas. My breasts felt too heavy and full. Before I realized what I was doing, my fingers skimmed over my breast and I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped as I took a step closer.
Other than the pouring water, the bathroom went silent. My heart thundered in my ears. Get out! I yelled at myself, but my feet were nailed to the floor beneath me.
The shower curtain slid open, then his handsome face peeked through. My eyes roamed down to the very big and very erect appendage between his thighs. One he was holding in his hand.
Tightly.
Thick and beautiful, a mushroom tip, red and angry. I licked my lips.
What am I doing?!
My eyes popped up to his face. His were stuck on my breasts. I felt them like a touch, and since I was a crazy, slutty pervert, I pulled on my nipple, my eyes hooding at the sensation. My breath hitched. I didn’t take my eyes off him. A light sheen of sweat covered my skin, making my clothes stick to my body.
He didn’t stop stroking himself, and it was the most erotic thing I’d ever witnessed. His hand caressed his erection from the base to the tip, his thumb skimming the angry-looking tip. His movements were achingly slow. Like he was daring me to tell him to stop. Or trying to get me to run.
But I wouldn’t.
No way in hell I could. I needed to keep watching him.
So, I took his challenge and gave him one of my own.
I pulled my nipple, twisting it gently before letting my hand move over the other. His free hand grabbed the curtain rod. His muscles flexed and strained under his beautiful sun-kissed skin.
We didn’t say a word.
Neither of us spoke. Not when he stepped out of the still running, steamy shower in all his naked glory. I couldn’t even breathe as he brushed past me. For a moment, I thought he was going to leave.
But he didn’t.
He closed the door, the lock clicking in place almost echoing through the bathroom. When he turned toward me, I thought he was going to say something, but he didn’t. He silently put his hands on my waist and lifted me up, my hands on his hot-to-the-touch chest as he sat me on the edge of the bathroom vanity.
“What are—”
“Shut it,” he ordered through his clenched jaw. I closed my mouth and opened my legs to give him space as he moved in between them. My body shook head to toe at the feel of his body pressed close.
His wet and very naked body.
His hands traced my shoulders from one end to the other until they found their way past my neck and into my hair.
“What are you doing?” I breathed.
“I told you to shut it.” His lips tugged at my earlobe before he took my now foggy glasses off, placing them on the other side of the counter.
“Okay,” I mumbled, wondering if it was possible to have a heart attack at my age. My heart was beating way too fast, and blood roared in my ears.
“I can’t touch you,” he growled, and I wanted to cry.
Not this again.
“You have to be kidding me!” I whimpered. I wanted him so freaking bad, I wasn’t against begging.
“Shut it,” he clipped, then his tongue swiped my neck and my head fell back, giving him more access. “I can’t touch you,” he repeated. “But you liked what you saw in the shower, didn’t you, Princess?”
“I wouldn’t say I—“
“Shut it and be a good girl. You liked it. You more than liked it,” he pointed out, rolling his hips, his bare dick hitting just the right spot against my heated core, and I knew there was no hiding the truth. I couldn’t control the needy moan that escaped when he did his hip thing again and I felt his silky hardness against me.
“Shit!” he hissed, shutting his eyes tightly. “You’re loud.”
“I’m not—“ My words caught in my throat as he opened his eyes. Through the dimly lit fog, the passion reflected in his beautiful orbs rendered me speechless.
“You just keep getting better and better.”
“I do?”
“God’s a damn woman.”
“What?” I panted, scooting to the edge of the vanity, meeting his hips with every roll.
“Cruel. A cruel woman god who has a terrible sense of humor.”
“I don’t understand, Mav…” I panted as his tip pressed against my swollen pearl.
“The only woman who is off limits to me, and she’s fucking perfect.”
“What?”
“Keeps getting more and more perfect every time, every goddamn time I see her,” he growled. My cheeks burned warmer at his compliment.
“She sounds like a catch,” I answered like a smartass, and he leaned in closer. His tongue swiped the edge of my lip.
“She’s a pain in the ass.”
“That’s a little harsh—“ I gasped when his hands left my hair and moved lower, tracing my neck and shoulder as they made their slow decent toward my torso.
“Soft and satiny. Just like I imagined,” he gritted, and I shivered again. My body felt hot and cold all at once, aching for so much more. “I’m not going to touch you.”
“No?” I asked mid-pant, my hands holding on to his still wet and warm muscular shoulders.
“No. But I need to watch you. Smell you. Taste—”
“How are you going to do that without touch—“
“Shh,” he whispered, licking the other side of my lips. “You like to watch.” It wasn’t a question, but I still felt the need to answer and be heard.
“Maybe.”
“That’s good, baby, because I do, too, Princess.” His hands moved to the o
utside of my thighs, and he held me tightly.
“Mav.”
“We’re going to scratch this itch however we can,” he shared. The wetness between my legs grew. My skin was all too warm.
“Maverick…”
“I can get creative.”
“Mav—”
“If I touch you—“
“The world will end. Birds will fall from the sky,” I sarcastically finished for him, my voice soft, and there was no way I could hide how I was feeling towards him.
But instead of getting angry or breaking the bubble of lust we found ourselves in, he gave me a devilish smirk.
“You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Show me,” I dared, done with his stupid reasons not to do anything else. “It’s just you and me right now. No one else. Show me,” I unashamedly asked.
I’m not sure what I wanted him to do.
I just knew I needed more.
Maverick
He took one last swipe of the edge of her lip, the hint of chocolate on his tongue. He couldn’t stop. She was right. “Right here, right now, just us,” he repeated her words, and out loud they sounded even better.
“Yes. Just us, Mav.”
“I’m not going to touch you.” He wanted to. He was almost cross-eyed with how badly he wanted, no, needed to touch her. She opened her mouth, but he shook his head.
“Lean back, baby,” he ordered, his voice strained, unrecognizable to his own ears.
He unclenched his hands on her smooth thighs and spanned them fully, trying to memorize the feel of her supple skin, unsure when he would be able to touch her again. Never, you should never touch her again, a small voice yelled in his head, but he ignored it and instead focused on the gorgeous sight in front of him. She leaned back. Her pink tongue popped out, swiping her lower lips as she focused on complying with his order.
He moved away from her and stared at her. “You are fucking beautiful,” he told her, enjoying how his words seemed to make the fire burning behind her eyes brighter. “Are you aching, Princess?”
“Maverick,” she whimpered, and he wanted her to keep talking.
“You are, aren’t you? You’re aching and wet.”
“Soaked,” she whispered, and his nose flared. Her scent mixed with his body wash and clung to the steamy air between them. “Please, Mav…” Her pleas almost threw his control over the edge.
“Slip your hand into your shorts,” he demanded and watched her hands move to the waistline of her shorts, but he stopped her. “No.”
“What?”
“If I see all of you, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you. Now be a good girl, slip that tiny little hand into your shorts,” he instructed and breathed in deeply as he watched her hand slip down, while his own moved back to his cock, squeezing the base slightly.
“Mmm,” she moaned. Her head fell back, and he knew she was touching herself. When she lifted her leg, cocking it to the countertop, their eyes met, and white-hot hunger reflected at each other.
“Deeper,” he ordered and watched her face tensing up the moment she complied. “Fuck, Sofi,” he groaned.
“Tighten your stroke,” she ordered, and he tightened his grip. He was dying to touch her. To feel her. He stroked his cock up and down, swiping the pad of his finger over his dripping tip.
His balls were tight, sweat covered both of them, and he was way too close to becoming a one-pump chump. “More,” he groaned, closing some of the space between them.
Their breathing picked up, her face fell into his neck, and he kept stroking. “Shit, Princess…”
“I’m so close,” she whimpered. “I need more,” she begged, and he licked her neck.
He was dying to touch her, but he couldn’t. What he was doing was bad enough, but there was no way he could halt their actions. He needed to get creative, and just like that an idea popped into his head.
“I promised you creative.”
“Maverick…” she whimpered with a soft, breathy mewl. “Please, more…” She was on edge, ready to come. Not yet.
He picked her up, smiling at her soft giggle.
He sat on the closed toilet, settling her over his knee. She was soaking through her tiny shorts. He could feel her fingers rubbing away at her swollen little pearl, and he stroked his cock faster. Stroking harder and tighter, pinching the bottom of his tip. Her legs squeezed tightly around his knee as she rubbed herself back and forth. Shamelessly and wildly on his knee, wetness soaking through.
“Go over the edge, baby. Let go,” he gritted.
“I’m…. Maverick…. oh God…. Mav, Mav!” Damn. She was screaming his name. His balls tightened up, and he felt a distinct tingle at the base of his spine. “Yes! Oh gawd! Maverick!” Her voice was a sexy, higher pitch. His fucking eyes were glued on her not wanting to miss a moment.
She trembled above him, and he watched her fall. Her face was the unadulterated mask of pleasure. And he was done for. His head fell to her shoulder and he bit down on her skin, muffling his moan, as rope after rope of cum shot from him and dripped down his shaft.
They fought to catch their breath. Their faces in each other’s necks, and he didn’t want to move. Instead, he licked and kissed the bite, looking down at his teeth marks. He marked her.
“Wow,” she breathed, and he kissed her shoulder.
“Yeah,” he exhaled slowly, pulling his face away to look at her.
“That was intense,” she muttered, shifting on his knee, and he didn’t miss the way she bit down on her lower lip. They had both come hard, but watching her do that, knowing she was still sensitive, made his dick spring back to life.
Big guy’s energetic tonight.
“Thank you,” she muttered, her eyes on him, and he wanted to drown in her beautiful amber pools.
He opened his mouth to say something back, but a knock resonated on the door. Both their heads turned and they stared at the door.
“Maverick, I’m home!” Gabe called out.
“Hey, cool.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be right out.”
“No rush. I’m gonna hop in the shower. Try to keep it down. Sofia is probably sleeping, jetlag and what not.” At that moment, he had never been happier that Gabe had taken the master bedroom with the en-suite bathroom.
“Yeah, yeah, no worries, man.” Damn. Damn. Damn. His mind ran wild.
“All right. See you in the morning.”
“Night!” he shouted back, staring at Sofia’s wide eyes.
“Night!” Gabe shouted back, and as they made out the sounds of Gabe walking off, his heart pounded in his chest. Guilt hit his gut, deep and hard like lead.
“Oh, my gosh,” she whispered, grinning brightly at him, softening the guilt, but he remembered. Gabe and the fact Sofia was his baby sister. He had just let his little sister dry hump his knee to orgasm, while he’d jerked his chain.
“This isn’t funny,” he clipped seriously, overwhelmed by his actions and emotions. Regret and excitement swirled together.
“Oh, come on, it is.”
“He’s your older brother,” he pointed out. Fuck, I’m a shit friend.
“And we’re back to that,” she said softly, disappointment reflecting at him, just as the water turned on in the other bathroom. She slid off his knee and he stood. Grabbing a towel to cover himself, he didn’t miss the way she kept looking at his body.
“It’s not what you think,” he lied. If she weren’t Gabe’s sister, he would be halfway in love.
Love?
Jesus. What had little Sofia Blanco done to him?
“It is. Thanks again. I’ll sleep better now,” she said with a wink before quietly slipping out of the bathroom.
Chapter Five
Maverick
I’m going to go to hell.
Two days later, he could still hear her sweet gasps and sexy-as-fuck moans. He could still feel her lips against his neck as he gasped for air. She’d made him so damn hard as he had watched her bounce and rub up agai
nst him. It had been one of the most erotic things he had ever experienced in his life.
His head was filled with nothing but Sofia Blanco. The memory of her body under his hands haunted him. The feel of her perfect, plump ass in his hands was engrained in his memory. Fuck, he’d even had wet dreams about her like some damned kid. He was walking around with a permanent hard-on. To top things off, she acted like nothing had ever happened.
The nerve of her.
Thinking about it made him want to spank her ass a bright pink until she dripped down her thighs and was begging for his touch. God, he wanted to touch her.
This was exactly why he was going to hell.
He was like a dog after a damn bone for some attention from her. He shouldn’t even be thinking about her. He sure as shit shouldn’t have been jerking off at the end of the day and in the shower at the start of a new one. Her little sounds and the memory of her softness took him over the edge embarrassingly quick.
“Hey, Bridges!” Gabe snapped him out of his pathetic thoughts. From where he was sitting, he was pretending to watch ESPN at the firehouse. They were working till half past nine tonight, and it had been a slow day. A slow, slow day during which all he had been able to do was think about a spunky princess.
“What’s up?”
“Sofi’s bringing lunch. What do you want?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly. Food is the last thing I want from Sofia. Guilt seeped into his thoughts. He was a shitty friend. Lusting after his best friend’s baby sister. His only sister.
“Why not? You eat already?”
“No.”
“So? Burger? Chili?” Gabe suggested, but Mav simply shook his head.
“I’m good, man, but thanks.”
“What’s up with you?” Gabe asked, moving to stand in front of the television, meaning Mav could no longer pretend to ignore him.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.” That was true. Though all he wanted more than anything was having a taste of Sofia. Not that that would help his situation. “A burger and fries,” he gave in, and looked up at the guy who had always had his back. The man Maverick had betrayed by almost fucking his little sister against her car in a damned parking lot and playing rub-a-dub-dub in the bathroom!
“What’s going on with you, man?” Concern was obvious in Gabe’s voice, and for a moment, Mav wanted to tell him. But what was there to tell?
Burning Bridges Page 5