by C. M. Owens
“I wasn’t talking to you,” he deadpans, staring lovingly at my breasts that he’s cupping in each hand.
Laughter bubbles out of me again as he waggles his eyebrows and grins, mischievous eyes meeting mine.
“Does this mean I get more than just the tip?” he muses.
“It means you get as much as you want. As often as you want,” I say with an impish grin as he smiles bigger.
“In that case, I fucking love being in love.”
“As long as you buy me assorted tampons,” I decide to add, trying to keep a serious face.
“I’ll schedule an appointment to join the secret brotherhood as soon as possible,” he says conversationally, confusing me.
Before I can ask what the hell that means, his lips are back on mine, and I forget how to do words and stuff.
His underwear gets pushed down, and he shuffles his legs, getting rid of them completely. No prep work is really necessary, since it’s been forever, and my body is demanding his.
When I lift my hips, he thrusts up, apparently as impatient as I am. We both make our own sounds of relief, as though the world is finally in the right position again, as he buries himself inside me.
Every time I rock against him, his grip tightens on me, almost getting painful. It’s as though he’s still worried I’m about to disappear.
I moan into his mouth as I kiss him, and he moves my hips harder, letting me grind against him in just the right way.
When my core tightens, promising I’m already racing over the finish line, I try to break the kiss. But he won’t let me, holding me in place, forcing me to give him every sound I make as I writhe with no rhythm. It feels so good that it almost hurts.
He spins, coming down on top of me, as my body tingles with the aftershocks of the orgasm, but his lips never leave mine. He thrusts in hard just a few more times before he follows me, his body shuddering against mine.
The kiss turns lazy, but he finally breaks it, dropping his head to the side and exaggerating a few pants for air, as I grin, kissing his shoulder.
“Didn’t realize just how long it had been until now,” he murmurs.
“It was worth the wait—”
My words end on a squeal when he suddenly flips me over, startling me, but I grin as I turn my head to the side. His lips trail over my shoulder, and he starts kissing his way across my shoulder blades.
“That was just the warmup,” he tells me, kisses feather-soft as his lips move up to my ear. “I’m taking my time for the main event.”
“And here I was thinking it was just a really hot quickie.”
He bites my shoulder, and I giggle like a little girl, until his mouth makes me lose my sense of humor again.
This moment? This one right here? It’s an After Maverick pie moment.
And there will never be anything to top it.
Epilogue
MAVERICK
I’m smirking as I near the wall of shame, catching a familiar sighting or two.
“So, should I grab super or super plus? Because she’s really pissy this month. Maybe the pissier they are the more they bleed?” I grossly suggest, watching as Kode and Corbin look over at me in horror.
“No?” I ask, grinning bigger when Corbin flips me off, grabs a box of tampons, and takes off in the other direction like his ass is on fire.
Yes, this is still fascinating.
“You haven’t seen my new super-secret handshake for our super-secret brotherhood yet,” I call after him, watching as his face burns a little red.
“I think I liked you better all melancholy and shit last week,” Kode mutters, snagging a box of tampons and tucking it under his arm like that magically hides it from view.
He shoulders by me, and I turn to follow him.
“You forgot your tampons,” he grumbles.
“I was just fucking with you two; it’s not Salem’s time of the month. It seems she hasn’t yet spent the appropriate amount of time with the other girls to sync up,” I say with an extra dose of chipper while he pales.
“Can you just stop talking?” he growls.
I grin broader.
Britt walks out of an aisle, condoms and lube in her hands. That sure as fuck shuts me up.
“What the actual hell?” I ask, pointing at the very offensive articles.
“I read that even if you are aroused, that lubrication was still good for the vagina’s—”
“Can you stop talking?” Kode and I both plead in unison.
She looks perplexed. “But you asked—”
“That’s not why we were asking,” I hiss.
“I wasn’t asking at all,” Kode points out, ready to kill someone by this point.
“Why are you buying that stuff? You’re supposed to be a virgin!” I say this much too loudly, drawing the attention of every judgy eye in the store.
Britt, of course, doesn’t care. She remains oblivious to social decorum.
“I’m still a virgin. I buy these things on occasion just to be prepared. Bella told me I’ll want sex a lot in the beginning. It’s just part of the process.”
“Bella is going to die,” I state emphatically.
“Painfully,” Kode adds.
Bella is still championing for Britt’s sex obsession, really hindering our attempts to keep her untouched.
“Why are we making Ethan a single dad?” Corbin asks as he walks up, his recent purchase now bagged and no longer causing him shame.
“I’m not sure what’s going on here,” Britt tells him with a sigh. “I just came to buy condoms and female-pleasure lubrication.”
Corbin turns about as sickly as I feel.
Britt grins brightly. “I’ll see you at the party,” she chirps, then walks away like she didn’t just ruin sex for all of us.
We stand there in awkward silence in her wake for a few uncomfortable moments.
Finally, Corbin says, “Let’s never talk about this again,” and turns to walk out.
I don’t even buy anything; I just walk out as well, slowly walking down the street to where I had to park.
By some miracle, I put the whole incredibly wrong scene out of my mind by the time I reach my dad’s house.
I can hear the party raging in the back, and I stroll quickly through the house, bursting through the doors and immediately scan the area for Salem.
It’s Sean’s twelfth birthday, and my present was a new phone that he already found yesterday because the asshole has no boundaries when it comes to looking for presents early. Wish Salem had bothered to warn me of that. It was awkward for him when he found the phone in the same bag as skimpy lingerie I purchased for Salem the same day.
Obviously neither of us are pretending that happened, since Salem would throttle me and he’s just too disgusted to cross that line.
I spot about five pies that tell me Salem is definitely here somewhere amongst the madness.
I spot Kode and Tria—who apparently drove separately since I know his dirty secret and just left him.
By the way, how the hell did he beat me? He still had shameful products to pay for.
Then I spot her, and a grin curves my lips when I see her in a pink, pixie-style dress that matches the streaks in her hair. She’s talking to Brin—per the usual—and smiling about whatever is being said.
“Could you look more whipped?” Sean drawls, popping up at my side.
“Could you be more annoying?” I volley.
“Only if I was you,” he deadpans.
I still have days that I hate him. And the devil cat, too, who apparently only likes to scare me. Or shit in my shoes. Or attack my feet. Or bitch slap me on occasion if she catches me unaware.
Damn cat.
“I’m only looking at her like I’m whipped because she modeled the lingerie for me last night,” I say with a cruel smile, crossing the unspoken boundary we had in place. “Ah, sweet memories.”
He glares at me. “I hate you.”
With that, he turns and walks away, and I
grin at his back.
When I fist-pump the air, finally feeling victorious over the little ass, Dale walks up, rolling his eyes.
“I’m not sure it’s dignified to celebrate outwitting a kid.”
“You haven’t verbally sparred with that kid yet. Trust me, I should be popping the cork on some champagne in celebration,” I state matter-of-factly.
“Who’s getting rid of the guy talking to Britt?” Kode asks as he joins us, gesturing to where a smarmy-grinning punk is hitting on our precious little cousin.
In my head, she’s not out buying condoms and female-pleasure lube; I’ve replaced that image with her buying Barbie dolls and stuffed animals.
Dane walks over to them, and I grin.
“Looks like he has it under control,” Rye pipes in, joining us.
“Motherfucker,” Dale says under his breath, going to where Harley is as some guy talks to her a little too close for comfort.
“Caveman,” I scoff.
“Says the guy who grabbed his girlfriend’s vagina at a charity event,” Kode states flatly.
I roll my eyes. “One time. I grabbed her vagina one time. At some point you really have to let that go.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking when you grabbed my vagina.” Salem’s voice finds me before her arms wrap around my waist from behind.
I groan as the guys chuckle, walking off as I tug her around to be in front of me. She’s smirking, of course. Because she’s as evil as I am. Makes for an interesting pairing.
“There’s a reason I love you. I’m just struggling to remember what exactly that reason is at the moment,” I say as though I’m actually thinking on it.
She just grins as she steps into me. “Are you asking me to remind you in public? Certainly inappropriate for a child’s birthday party.”
I bend, kissing her, and she wraps her arms around my neck to pull me closer while getting up on her tiptoes.
She’s the one to pull back, eyes sparkling with her smile. “So when are you moving in?”
I tap my chin with my free hand, pretending to think it over, while still keeping my other arm around her waist.
“Pretty sure my house is way bigger than the beach house. So it should be you moving in with me.”
“But the beach house is on the beach.”
“Where you wear your bikini in front of other guys,” I remind her. “My house has no beach, therefore, no men see you in a bikini.”
She rolls her eyes. “But the beach house also has the Samurai sword.”
“That can just as easily be in my house. I have two fireplaces. I’ll even buy another one and move the TV out from over the one in the living room.”
She sighs as though she’s putout.
“But the beach house—”
“Is also mine and I can evict you. Then I can be your knight in shining armor who keeps you from living on the streets when I offer to take you in.”
“You’re lucky you made pie moment a good thing,” she tells me with a quirked eyebrow.
“My specialty is making bad things good. I mean, look at you.”
I laugh when she slaps at my stomach, and I feign pain as I rub the spot, grinning as she gives me an unimpressed eyebrow quirk.
“I take it back. You can’t have sex anytime you want,” she says, starting to turn away, but she ends up grinning when I crash into her back and wrap my arms around her waist, kissing a trail down her neck.
“You really need to come up with a better form of punishment. No sex simply hurts you, too,” I murmur against her neck, grinning when she shivers.
“You’re right. Good thing I figured out your Twitter password.”
I choke on air as she turns that daring little grin at me over her shoulder. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did, Pony Boy. Be more original than your name and birthday next time.”
She did. She really fucking did.
She squeals when I lift her, tossing her over my shoulder, and she starts laughing as I tug her dress down, ensuring no one else gets a peek at her ass as I carry her toward the house.
Sean rolls his eyes, but he can’t fight his grin when he hears his sister laughing uncontrollably in between insincere pleads for me to put her down.
The second I have her inside my childhood room—that is still untouched—I drop her to the bed and come down on top of her, silencing her laughter by kissing her.
“Did you really bring me to your old room to have sex?” she asks, grinning against my lips. “Are you going to give me your class ring next? Maybe give me a quickie and call it a warmup. Oh! Is that how all that started? Had to explain why you were so fast as a teenager and—”
“Salem?”
“Yeah?” she asks, still grinning.
“Shut the hell up and give me my moment.”
For once, she listens, and it ends up being one hell of a moment.
THE END
Note from the author.
I’ve lived in northeast Alabama my entire life, yet I’ve never published a Southern main character with any Southern quirks. So in this book, I gave Sean and Salem a piece of me through that without trying to overkill it. (Hope that worked the way I intended!) Mostly it was infused subtly enough just to be relatable, but there were parts intended for maximum humor. Obviously.
Since I gave them a piece of me, I also had to share a piece of myself with Maverick. In case you haven’t figured it out, we share a hatred of unicorns. ;)
There were other pieces of myself strewn throughout their book, including pieces of my own little ten-year-old boy who has a degree in smartassery. He’s not quite as rude as Sean, but if he thinks he can get one over on you, he’ll put in a ton of effort to do so. And he loves to mock. (Insert groan here.) That’s just how our family rolls. I get a lot of banter ideas for my books just by sitting at a dinner table full of hecklers.
At the end of the day, I shed more tears writing this book than any other because I used so many pieces of myself—more so than usual—that I felt as though I was hurting right alongside them instead of just empathizing the way I usually do.
A lot of people wanted Maverick and Britt to be together, but that just didn’t hold true to Maverick’s character. For one, he’d never do that to Dane. For two, Maverick saw her as actual family, and it went against the nature of his character to see her as more than a young cousin. He wouldn’t have even touched Salem if he had known she was his stepsister before he touched her which is why it had to happen before he knew. (Yeah, that sentence is a little confusing, but you get the idea.)
Keeping the magic of Maverick Sterling alive was my sole focus. I didn’t want to lose anything that had made him so special. So he needed someone who he could be his smartass, cocky self with and not have to dial it back for fear of hurting someone’s feelings or looking like a dick bully. Someone who was just as confident and ready to serve hell back on a plate and meet him step for step.
Salem was that girl. She comes off as cocky at first, but like Maverick, it’s just a shield. They both keep their true vulnerabilities close to their chests, masking them with smartass humor to keep anyone from seeing through to the core.
That’s what made it so special when they shared those pieces with each other. I wrote a lot of this book with a big goofy grin on my face. Hubs was discreetly taking pictures to mock me with later, because he’s a creeper and a smartass like that.
Anyway, that’s Maverick and Salem and how they came to be. This story was pouring out of me, and when it was finished, I was in love. I really hope it hit all the right feels for you, too.
Reviews are great and appreciated (also a major help in getting the book seen) if you wish to discuss the feels. Even if you didn’t have the good feels, your opinion is just as important and respected.
Thank you so much for reading Taming A Maverick.
If you want to take a peek at Britt’s book, please keep reading. Also, if you want to know more about
Connor, stay tuned.
His book will be releasing early 2018 to start the Cup Check Series (hockey rom-com), but I have a sample here for what’s in store.
Eventually, I may write a prequel novella for Tyler and Monica to explain how they got together, which is one reason I left their relationship a little vague in detail. That possible novella will depend on if I can quit writing a thousand other books I have promised out. <3
Britt’s book’s title has changed. Again.
Anyway, here’s the first two chapters for Talk Nerdy To Me, projected to release 2017.
TALK NERDY TO ME
Chapter 1
BRITT
“I can’t believe Dane is letting you run the place,” Raya says with a smile. “Is he freaking out?”
“It’s just until he can get someone else in here to takeover. And only because it’s Under 21 weekend. No alcohol will be served. Thanks for coming and helping,” I say diplomatically, since Dane isn’t happy about letting me do this.
He said those exact words, so it’s not just a case of me misreading tone or body language again. He’s learned to be blunt with me instead of expecting me to read between the lines. I find it unnecessary to expect people to figure out what you’re trying to say instead of just saying what you want to.
“Both his manager and assistant manager are down with some sort of virus. It’s just temporary,” I go on. “He’s still in New York with Rain for the new book tour.”
So I’m his final option, and I’m not even technically old enough to be in here on a regular night that isn’t Under 21 weekend, something he does once a quarter. Yet, I’m filling in, trying to finally prove to him once and for all that I’m not a child anymore.
“It’s been a long time since I worked here, but I still remember the ropes, for the most part. Seems like all your help would rather congregate around the stage and watch the warmup,” Raya says, smirking as I keep my features relaxed, trying not to show my irritation.
They don’t do this when Dane’s normal manager is here.