Maverick

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Maverick Page 11

by Juliana Stone


  He glanced at Charlie as the engine roared to life. She licked her lips and her breaths fell in rapid bursts. She was as worked up as he was. There would be time for talking later.

  Much later.

  Connor stirred against his chest, his mouth puckering, his brows furrowed. He made a few noises and for a moment Rick thought he might wake up, but Connor slipped his arms around Rick’s neck, his little hands digging in but good and relaxed, making an odd little snoring sound as he slept.

  There was something about the sound. Something about the feel of a little person in his arms. A little person with no awareness, but one he’d been entrusted with. Whatever it was, Rick’s chest tightened and as he gazed down at the little boy, he felt incredibly humble.

  For the first time ever, he wondered what it would be like to hold his child—to be wholly responsible for another life. It was a sobering thought.

  “We’re here,” Charlie said softly. She sounded hesitant and unsure. And man, he loved how open and real she was. “Do you want me to…” Her voice trailed off and the only sound was Connor’s breathing and the low rumble of the trucks engine.

  “I got him.”

  “Are you, um…” She cleared her throat but didn’t finish her sentence.

  “I’m not going home if that’s what you’re asking.” He paused. “Unless you want me to.”

  She cut the engine. “I don’t want you to.” She exhaled. “I’ve thought about it,” she said with a soft smile.

  “IT?”

  She nodded and reached for the door handle. “Yeah. IT.”

  “And?”

  She threw the door open and hopped out of his truck. “Game on.”

  Rick followed her into her house and kicked off his boots before taking her lead and heading upstairs. He reached a large landing with four doors and Charlie headed to the last one on the right. He held Connor close, waiting for her to pull back the kid’s covers—Ninja Turtles no less—and then gently laid him down on the bed. They worked together to get Connor’s coat and boots off, and with a soft sigh, the little guy turned onto his side, eyes fluttering a bit, though they didn’t open.

  “Goodnight, little man,” Charlie said and kissed his brow.

  They left together and she closed the door behind her, taking a few steps before pausing. “He’s out. He won’t hear us, I mean…we can…”

  For all of two seconds he stared down into her eyes and when she looked downward, there at his bulging crotch and smiled, he nearly exploded in his jeans.

  “Bedroom,” he said gruffly.

  She turned without another word and headed across the hall and yanked on the doorknob. It wouldn’t give—she jiggled it and swore.

  “Let me.” Maverick reached around her and with one deft movement, turned the knob and pushed her bedroom door open. He followed her inside, not seeing anything but the woman in front of him. He didn’t notice the pink and white furniture or the frilly curtains on the wall. He didn’t see the hope chest at the foot of her bed, the artwork on the wall, or the shelves with model cars.

  He walked by a pile of clothes tossed onto a chair, his hands already reaching into his back pocket for his wallet and his condom supply. He was prepared this time and so damn ready for her.

  “I’m going to apologize now,” he said hoarsely. “Because this is going to be fast and hard.” He yanked his zipper down and freed his aching cock. He made quick work of the condom and reached for her, his hands greedy, his body tight and hot.

  He swept a kiss across her heated brow, his need for her so great that he had to take a moment to get his shit together.

  Maverick rested his forehead against hers, struggling for some kind of control. “Do you like it fast and hard, Charlie?”

  She didn’t answer at first and he pulled away so that he could see her face. Her mouth was parted, her eyes feverish, and her nipples were hard beneath the cotton shirt that she wore.

  “I think fast and hard would be good right about now.”

  “That’s my girl,” Maverick growled, dropping a hungry kiss onto her mouth. He tore his lips away and turned her around, so that she faced the bed. “Bend over.”

  Charlie undid her fly and bent over the edge of the mattress, while he pulled her jeans down until they gathered at her knees. She spread her legs as far as she could and arched her back in such a provocative manner that he inhaled a deep breath, fighting for control.

  Screw this. He wanted all access. Maverick yanked her jeans down all the way and she kicked them off while he did the same to his. She inched forward onto all fours, climbing onto the bed so that her ass was right where it should be.

  He didn’t wait. He didn’t need to. She was shiny and wet and he could smell her. “You’re so goddamn hot,” he whispered.

  Maverick thrust into Charlie with one swift movement, his hands pressing into the small of her back as she arched her butt back at him. She was so tight and wet and for one scary moment, Maverick thought he was going to blow his load right then. But he managed to gain some control and thrust into her aggressively.

  “You like that?” he asked, roughly.

  “God, yes,” she whimpered.

  He thrust deeper, groaning as she took every inch of him. His body was hot with lust as he rubbed her ass and spread her cheeks. A wicked grin spread across his face as he continued to thrust into her—harder and faster—and his fingers began to knead the soft rounded skin.

  He glanced up and caught sight of her watching them fuck in the mirror on the wall. It was an image he’d take to the grave. Charlie half dressed, with her hair falling in shiny waves around her face, her mouth open, her body trembling from the pleasure he was giving her.

  Their eyes caught and held. Maverick’s fingers inched toward her other opening and she bit her lip, though she didn’t look away. He massaged the entire area, watching her face—the desire and need in her eyes. She arched her back even more and when he slid a finger inside that tight hole, she made a noise, one that was enough to drive him over the edge.

  “Do you like that?” he asked, slowly moving his finger inside her, while his tempo increased and his thrusts became faster. “I can stop if you want me to.” He barely managed to get the words out.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice ending on a groan as he massaged the puckered opening with his thumb while his finger probed deeper. He continued to torture her with his hands and fingers, with his hard, pounding cock. He’d never felt so attune to a woman before and when she tightened around him he bent over her, angling himself just so.

  “Oh my god, Maverick,” she cried. “Right there.”

  “Are you coming for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to come hard for me.” The muscles in his neck tightened and he knew he was right there with her. As that exquisite pressure continued to build his thighs slapped against her ass. He drove his finger into her once more, rotating, massaging slowly while his cock pounded hard and fast.

  “That feels,” she managed to say. “I can’t…I’ve never…”

  She cried out again, her back arched, her body gyrating crazily, and when her walls gripped him hard, he let go and came harder than he’d ever done before. He thrust over and over again as he milked his release for all he could.

  When he thought his legs were going to give out, Maverick withdrew and collapsed onto the bed beside her, drawing her against him because he needed to feel her. Needed to hear her. Christ, he just needed to hold her.

  “That was…” She said softly.

  He dropped a kiss onto her forehead, his heart still pounding fast and furious.

  “Damn,” was all he said. “I know.”

  And it was enough.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charlie was in heaven. There could be no other explanation. She was warm, content, and snuggled up against a man who’d given her a night she would never forget. Long after Rick left to go back to wherever it was he’d come from—California, apparently�
��she would remember last night.

  Always.

  She thought their first night of sex had been amazing but last night was different. Last night she’d connected with him on a level that she hadn’t thought possible. Seriously. She’d known what he was going to do before he did it and his anticipation of what she wanted—of how far she was willing to go—was scary. It was scary and wonderful and hot, and well, scary.

  “You feel good first thing in the morning,” Rick murmured, his voice full of sleep and close to her ear.

  “So do you.” Charlie reached up so that she could drop a kiss onto the corner of his mouth.

  “Give me a moment babe, cause I’m not sure I can handle you right now.”

  “Only a moment?” she teased.

  “Maybe two,” he murmured against her mouth.

  Charlie laughed. “I’ll let you off the hook for now, but only because I’m hungry and if I don’t eat something soon I’ll turn into the biggest grouch ever.”

  “Guess we worked up quite the appetite.”

  “We did.”

  “I’m hungry too,” he said, voice low and filled with that certain tone she’d come to love. It meant that he was hungry for something, but it wasn’t food.

  Charlie squirmed out of his arms, laughing and slapping at his hands as he tried to grab her.

  “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

  She stood back, admiring the view as Rick rolled over onto his stomach leaving his delectable ass bared for her to ogle. He peeked up at her and growled.

  “Five minutes is all I’m giving you woman.”

  “Five minutes is all I need.” She slapped his butt and barely avoided the arm that snaked out toward her. With a giggle, she grabbed her robe from her bedpost and ran from her room. She stopped to peek in on Connor, but her brother was still fast asleep. She figured they had about an hour or so before he’d stir.

  With light feet she took to the stairs, humming a tune as she entered the kitchen and flipped on the light. She pressed START on the coffee machine and then retrieved a fruit tray that she’d picked up the day before. She arranged it on her own platter, before placing it on a serving tray. No sense in letting Rick know she was pretty hopeless in the kitchen and would rather take apart a carburetor than cut up fruit in pretty designs.

  She leaned against the table, wincing slightly and twisting her body because some of her muscles were sore. She grinned. Actually a lot of them were. Jesus, Rick had bent her in more ways than she’d thought possible and she only hoped he was feeling the strain this morning.

  She popped a grape into her mouth and grabbed some croissants from the cupboard, throwing them onto the tray as well as the cream and sugar and two coffee mugs. Once the pot was done she grabbed it and balanced the tray with her free hand before heading back upstairs.

  When she entered her room, Rick was sitting, chest bare and covers dangerously low as he leaned back against the headboard. His hair was horribly mussed, but damn, it was a sexy look on him.

  She set the tray onto the table beside her bed and put the pot of coffee next to it.

  “Black?” she asked, loving the slow smile that spread across his sensual mouth.

  “Good memory.”

  “I try.”

  She poured his cup and handed it to him and then placed the platter of food onto the bed, before grabbing her own cup of coffee.

  “My mother would have a cow if she saw food on the bed,” Charlie said without thinking as she carefully sat beside Rick.

  “Your mother.” He looked puzzled. “Does she…is she here in town?”

  Shit, Charlie thought, taking a sip of coffee. Why in hell would she mention her mother? What good could come of that? She waited a few seconds, trying to think of the right words to say. How much should she share with a man she didn’t know as well as she would like, but a man who she was having sex with? Sure they were more than casual, but just what that ‘more’ was, she didn’t know.

  So this is what it felt like to be right smack dab in the middle of complicated. She decided to be as honest as she could without baring her soul. She wasn’t ready for that. At least not yet.

  “No, Elizabeth doesn’t live here or anywhere close to this state. My mother left us when Connor was barely a year old.”

  “Wow, that’s rough. I’m real sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not.”

  Liar.

  Rick took a sip of coffee and she stared at his long fingers. Good Lord the pleasure those fingers had given her. She blushed, thinking about the places they’d been.

  “Do you keep in touch?” he asked.

  “No. The last time I talked to her was when I left for college. I found an old letter in Dad’s stuff with a phone number and tried it on the off chance it worked. It did and we had the most awkward conversation of my life.”

  “That’s real shitty.”

  “I don’t even know where she is, to be honest with you. Last I heard she moved to Florida and married some land developer down there.” She bit her lip and tried to push back the ball of emotion gathering in her chest. “That was just after…”

  Whew. She blew out a hot breath and glanced up at Rick. His eyes were suddenly way too serious. Way too intense. It made her nervous and panic fluttered inside her stomach.

  “You don’t want to hear the sad story of Charlie Samuels.”

  Rick leaned forward and she held her breath as his mouth slid over hers. It was nothing more than a gentle caress, but it brought tears to her eyes, and she blinked them away as fast as she could.

  “I want to know your story, Charlie. I want to know about you and Connor. But I don’t want to pressure you or make you feel as if you need to share stuff that’s private and none of my business. Believe me, I know what it’s like to feel like you’re under a microscope. So if this is uncomfortable, then just tell me and I won’t ask.”

  She studied him for a few seconds, her mind turning and turning. What were they doing? Did it matter? Did she need a label to confide in a guy who seemed genuinely interested?

  “What do you want to know?” she asked softly, cradling her coffee cup, eyes on the dark liquid.

  He studied her for a few seconds, that mouth that she loved curving into a grin. “What’s your favorite color?”

  “Blue.”

  “Mexican or Chinese.”

  “Mexican.”

  “Chips or chocolate.”

  She laughed at that. “Easy. Chocolate all the way.”

  “Huh.” He took a sip of coffee. “I know you like the Bruins, so we’ve got sports covered. What’s your favorite song?”

  “Oh my God you’re going to hate me.”

  “Yeah?” He grinned and leaned closer. “How much am I going to hate you?”

  She paused and tried not to laugh. “Mony Mony.”

  “No.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Jesus.”

  “The Billy Idol version. You know the one from the 80’s.”

  “Yeah. I got that.”

  She shrugged. “Sorry but my dad used to crank it and we’d rock out.”

  “Okay. No apologies necessary. Music and art are personal.” His eyes darkened, those long lashes blinking slowly as he watched her closely. “What were you studying in college?”

  For a moment the change in the line of questioning surprised her and she fiddled with her cup. “Engineering.”

  He whistled. “Somehow I’m not surprised. Where did you go?”

  “MIT.”

  “MIT. Shit, that’s impressive. It’s like the god of engineering schools, isn’t it?”

  “It’s one of them. I considered Berkley, but MIT is closer and it was a good fit. I got a full ride and for a while I lived my dream you know? I mean, I delayed going by two years because I couldn’t leave my dad with Connor when he was so young. But when I finally got there I thought that, that was it. I had my future and I wasn’t looking back.” She shrugged. “And I didn’t until I had to. Until
I had no choice.”

  “How long did you attend MIT?

  “I was about to start my fourth year when my dad...well, when he passed away. That was two years ago.”

  There was silence for a few moments and she reached for a grape, nervous and wanting something to do.

  “So I’m guessing there was no one to look after Connor.”

  She shook her heard. “No. My dad’s family is scattered all over the country and my mom, well, her parents are dead and the only sister that she has is a woman I met once when I was seven or eight. None of them were interested in us while my dad was alive and they sure as hell had no interest when he was dead. I guess my mom came by that honestly.”

  She laughed, but it was a cold, hard laugh. “She sent a card months after Dad passed away. It was a typical condolence card.” She paused for a moment, lost in the memory. “You know the ones with fancy gold script, and a picture of a rainbow or heavenly clouds. It was generic. I’m sure hundreds of people have the same card stored away in their funeral boxes. She didn’t include a note or anything. Didn’t ask about Connor or how I was doing. Didn’t want to know what arrangements had been made for her son or what was happening with the family business. She just…”

  Charlie could see the card as clear as day. “She just signed her name. Elizabeth. She didn’t even write, Mom.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She could tell that he was, but Charlie had already bared enough and didn’t want to talk about the sad state of her life.

  “What about you?” she asked. “What’s your story?”

  Rick looked surprised and, hey now, was that something like panic in his eyes? Suddenly anxious, she reached for another grape—at the same time that he did—and there went those zigs and zags that had been haunting them since they’d first met. She blushed and popped the grape into her mouth, settling back as she watched him.

  “I was born in Florida.”

  She scrunched up her mouth. “How old are you?”

  He grinned. “How old do you think I am?”

  “Thirty…ish?”

  “You’re good. I turned thirty-one last June.”

 

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