I’ll give her a stomach-clenching, moan-inducing kiss, the kind she deserves and I bet has never gotten.
And that should be enough.
Hannah will feel like she’s moved past her asshole ex, and we can travel onward as friends.
I glance over at her just as she licks her lips. That pink pout was made for kissing.
And a rest area is just ahead.
When I reach the turn-off, I put on my signal and pull off.
“You need the bathroom?” Hannah asks me.
I’m too wound up to answer her.
Out here in the middle of the empty Nevada desert, I’m going to make sure Hannah feels anything but alone.
I drive through the parking lot until I find a lone parking space that’s tucked away behind an outcropping of rocks and a few cacti. From this spot, no other vehicles are in sight. I put the truck into park and cut the engine.
I unbuckle my seat belt and reach over to do the same for Hannah’s.
“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t need to use the restroo—”
Her words are cut off by my mouth covering hers.
I cup the back of her head with one hand and sink my fingers into her silky hair as I take control of the kiss. I nibble and suck on her bottom lip before tracing the seam of her lips, begging her to give me entry.
She lets out a little squeak of surprise. But then, she comes alive.
Her arms snake around my neck, and she pulls me closer.
Right before she kisses the hell out of me. She slides her tongue inside my mouth so fast I groan against her lips. My hand is suddenly between her knees and I’m half off my seat in an effort to get closer to her.
Fuck it.
I bring both my hands to her hips and lift her off her seat and onto my lap.
She wraps her legs around my waist and presses so tightly against me that I can feel her wet heat through her shorts.
I’m so hard it’s painful. And my cock isn’t exactly in a good position.
“Hold on.”
I reach between us to adjust myself. Hannah’s lips part as she watches me cup my crotch and shift my dick so the happy guy’s pointed up.
“Wow.” Hannah’s still staring between my legs. “You’re huge.”
“And you’re gorgeous,” I murmur as our mouths crash back down on each other’s.
And I’m the sucker who thought a single kiss would be enough.
Nothing will be enough.
Not until I can sink inside Hannah’s moist heat and fuck her like we both want.
“I want you,” I mutter as I trail kisses across her jaw. “God, I want you, Hannah.”
She reaches for the hem of my t-shirt and nearly rips it as she tries to take it off of me.
I help her out by grabbing the back of it and dragging it over my head and off.
“Please, Maverick.” She’s nearly panting as she writhes against my erection.
“You want me?” I whisper in her ear.
“Yes,” she says. “Only you.”
Beep!
The honking of a horn in the nearby big rig and trailer area wakes me up to where we are.
I grip Hannah’s forearms and push her back from me. “I won’t fuck you for the first time in a truck,” I say.
“Why not?” Her hands are now on the fly of my jeans.
I stop breathing as she undoes the snap and then slowly drags down the zipper, being careful not to catch the metal teeth in my erection.
“Please don’t make me wait another seven hours,” she says in a pleading tone.
Seven hours.
Christ, I’m not going to last seven minutes.
I glance around.
Still no one in our section of the parking lot. When I purchased the truck from him, Dylan showed me how the back windows are darker to keep out the sun, which makes them nearly impossible to see through.
“Climb into the back,” I tell Hannah. “I’m still not going to fuck you, but I’ll make sure you come.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hannah
I’ll make sure you come.
He’s so cocky.
Are all athletes this cocky?
I don’t care because Maverick is the only athlete I want. He’s the only man I want.
I climb into the backseat and sit down shakily. My thighs tremble. My pulse races. And my heart has never felt this open.
Maverick climbs in behind me, and he immediately lays me down on my back. “You want an orgasm?” he asks as he hovers over me.
His dark eyes glitter with lust, and I reach up and touch his smoothly-shaved jaw.
“Yes,” I say softly.
“How many?” he asks.
Isn’t one the only answer? “I can only come once,” I say.
“Bull. Shit.” He draws out the two words for effect. “You’ll come at least two times, probably three.”
“What?” I try to sit up, but he reaches out his hand and gently pushes me back down. “And how, I can’t…”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
My shorts are suddenly pulled down and off.
Holy bossy man. Maverick is as authoritative as I thought he would be, and I’m so turned on I’m actually embarrassed.
But as he slides his hand inside the panel of my underwear, he groans. “So fucking wet for me. So good.”
His obvious arousal relaxes my nerves, and I drop my self-consciousness. Craig was always squeamish of my bodily reactions, but Maverick seems to be quite different.
He dips one thick finger just inside me.
And I freeze.
“Spread your legs more for me,” he commands. “You’re tight, and I don’t want to hurt you when I add another finger.”
“I’ve never had more than one finger,” I say without planning to admit that. “I haven’t usually…liked finger fucking.”
“You’ll be begging for two fingers in a couple minutes,” he promises me.
I highly doubt that. I usually tolerate foreplay, but I’ve never gotten off on it. The truth is that Craig’s time was always limited, and we typically jumped right into intercourse. But I don’t want to tell Maverick that.
“Hannah.” His eyes are warm. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I want this. I do. I would just prefer we have sex, I guess.”
Maverick removes his finger and leans down to kiss the side of my mouth. “I told you I won’t have sex with you in my truck on the side of the highway like this. It’s not fair to you. And when we do fuck, we’re going to take our time.”
I stare at him. “We are?”
He nods. “I’m going to learn every part of your gorgeous body and make sure I know what you like.”
“Oh.” A night of what was supposed to be rebound sex suddenly sounds a lot more complicated.
He’s watching me, his expression neutral. “We can stop and get back on the road.”
I shake my head. “I want to keep going.” I reach for his hand.
He smiles at me, the best kind of Maverick Court’s smiles. The kind that feels like he reserves it for the people he truly cares about, the kind he never shows to the public.
“I have a better idea.”
Within five seconds, his head is between my legs. “Can I kiss you here?” he asks.
While I may not be used to foreplay, Maverick’s hot breath fanning my sensitive skin feels too good to stop.
“Yes.”
I watch as he pulls my underwear down in the front, just enough that his tongue can swipe at my clit.
And I swear I almost come.
“That feels good,” I mumble as my teeth dig into my bottom lip.
“Has anyone paid attention to you here before?” He lifts his gaze to my face as he licks me again.
“I’m…not sure.”
Maverick frowns. “Hannah, either he paid attention to your beautiful body or he didn’t. There’s no in-between here.”
Then the answer is a clear no.
I shake my head, and Maverick’s frown deepens.
“No wonder you just wanted to get to the main act,” he mutters before he refocuses his attention between my legs.
His thumbs hook around my underwear and drag them down my legs and off.
And then, his mouth is on me fully. Kissing, licking, and sucking until I’m clenching the cushioned seat of the truck and thrashing my head from side to side.
“Oh, God,” I cry out. “Maverick, keep doing that.”
And he does.
I come hard and fast, and I’ve just barely returned to earth when he makes sure to return his mouth where it just was.
My second orgasm is even bigger than the first.
Maverick’s tongue is magic. I swear it’s literally capable of anything.
Before I can even sit up, his fingers get involved.
He starts gently with one finger. But like he predicted…
“More,” I call out. “Please.”
A second thick finger enters me.
And as he starts moving them in and out, he puts his mouth on my most sensitive spot again.
My third orgasm starts with a slow build that has me gripping his head between my thighs. Despite me putting him in a headlock, he doesn’t once stop what he’s doing until I go over the edge into release.
My hand shoves at his forehead. “Enough,” I say and I hear him chuckle. “I can’t even move.”
He shifts into a kneeling position. I look up at him as he leans forward to kiss my cheek.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You don’t have to thank me.” He brushes my cheek with his hand. “You deserve to be treated like a queen, Hannah.”
A queen.
I kiss him and he pulls me into a hug.
Saying goodbye to Maverick may not be as easy as I want it to be.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Maverick
“We need to stop for gas.”
“Okay.” Hannah points to the exit sign. “There’s gas here.”
“Cool.”
I merge over to the right lane, and we pull off the highway.
“Take a right, and it’s a quarter-mile from there,” she says.
“Thanks.”
This is how our conversations have gone for the past six hours. We’re only an hour to the campground, and ever since we made out in the back of my truck, we’ve been talking to each other like we’re strangers.
It’s awkward as shit.
But I don’t know how to stop it.
I don’t want to hurt her, and all I’m doing is screwing up.
When we reach the gas station, I pull in and park next to a pump.
“Be right back,” I tell her.
“Let me pay.” She thrusts her purse at me.
“I got this. I’d be making the drive anyway.”
I step outside the truck before she can insist further. The sun is high in the sky, and the Utah air is hot and arid. I look up at the clear blue sky and try to gather my scattered thoughts.
You deserve to be treated like a queen.
I’m an idiot.
Getting Hannah off is one thing. Helping her to heal from her asshole of an ex? Fine.
But I can’t let my emotions get involved.
And the way she tasted and felt on my tongue—Hannah Walsh is under my skin, and we haven’t even fucked yet.
I slide my credit card into the reader. Once it’s approved, I pull it out and then reach for the nozzle.
While I fill up, I glance into the truck window.
Hanna’s staring down at her phone. Then, she starts tapping the screen.
I shouldn’t care who she’s writing to or if she’s writing about me. I turn away, forcing myself to focus on the nozzle.
By the time I finish with the gas and open the driver’s side door, Hannah’s phone is back in the console. And she’s sitting in the driver’s seat.
“What are you doing?”
“Is it okay if I drive for a bit? I’m going stir crazy just being a passenger.” She gives me that gorgeous smile, the one that makes me want to give her anything.
“I normally don’t let other people take the wheel of my vehicle,” I say as I lean my hip against the open door.
“Can I be your exception?” She bats her dark-as-night eyelashes jokingly.
I don’t want to touch that question, so I simply nod and head around to the passenger side.
“All set?” I ask her as I shift the seat back and buckle my seat belt.
“All set.”
“You don’t need to do any more texting before we pull out?”
She furrows her brow. “Were you watching me through the window?”
“No.”
She laughs as she starts the engine. “Sure.”
As we pull out of the rest area and merge back onto the highway, my phone rings, saving me from trying to get out of my lie.
“Hey, Mav. Just checking in.” Chance’s voice booms through the truck.
“Hey. You’re on speaker. And I’m not alone.” I hope my warning will be enough to keep him quiet.
But, of course, it’s not.
“Are you with the runaway bride?”
Hannah’s mouth drops open. “You told him that?”
“He was at the courthouse,” I explain to her. “Hannah, meet my friend, Chance.”
“Hey, Hannah,” Chance calls out. “How is Mav treating you?”
“He’s been a true gentleman,” she says.
“A gentleman, huh? That doesn’t sound like him,” the fucker says.
Hannah laughs. “It’s true.”
“So my bobblehead has been a good luck charm for your trip?” Chance asks.
Hannah gasps. “You gave Maverick that? I love it!”
Chance chuckles. “Good to hear.”
The two of them start chatting about Tom Brady and how Hannah apparently decided the bobblehead was a good omen the moment she saw it sitting on my dash.
“I didn’t know that,” I interrupt.
She bites her lip. “My ex hated Brady.”
Chance breaks into a loud laugh. “Aubrey will be thrilled to hear about the good luck part.”
Hannah asks who Aubrey is, and Chance takes her question as a free pass to tell—in detail—how he and Aubrey met.
“A bobblehead was involved?” Hannah sounds delighted. “That’s so cute.”
Chance wholeheartedly agrees, and he launches into how they picked up Pixy.
I drum my fingers on the door handle impatiently. Eventually, as they continue to become best friends, I cut them off. “Okay, we’re in the middle of driving, so—”
Screech!
I grab onto the dash as Hannah abruptly hangs a u-turn on the two-lane highway and heads back where we just came from.
“Hannah, what the hell?”
“I’m sorry!” she says, her focus on the road ahead. “I saw a cat back there, and I can’t leave it to die.”
She pulls over to the side of the empty road, live parks the truck, and hops out before I can stop her.
“Hannah!” I call as I jump out after her.
My phone is still in my hand, and I bring it to my ear. “Chance, I’ve got to go.”
“The parallels are unnerving, mate.” He chuckles proudly. “Now you’re picking up a stray pet?”
“Yeah, I don’t think this is at all similar.”
“I disagree. Tell her to name the kitty Chance,” he suggests.
“Fuck off,” I say and end the call before he can say more.
Hannah’s crouching down a few feet off the highway. As I join her, I grab her arm and urge her to follow me further off the shoulder. The cat is about five feet away from us, and it’s walking slowly parallel to where we’re crouching. It’s all black and looks quite young.
“Don’t get yourself killed trying to save a cat,” I say.
She turns to me with tears in her eyes. “We have to save her. She has no one, and she’ll die out here before long.�
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I can’t disagree with her on that. It’s over ninety out with hardly anywhere to catch some shade. And I can’t imagine what a cat would find to eat around here.
“Do you think it’s a kitten?” I say.
“Definitely,” she says.
“Here, kitty! Come here!” she calls out.
The cat freezes in place, and it looks back at us suspiciously.
“Come here, kitty!” I try.
No response.
I take off my t-shirt. Hannah does a shitty job of pretending she’s not checking me out.
“Save the ogling for after we rescue your kitty,” I say.
She turns red. “I was not ogling.”
“Were too.”
“Was not.”
I’m already headed for the cat, so her retort fades away.
The kitten is tiny. She’s meowing something fierce, though.
“You’ve got a set of lungs on you, huh?” I scoop her up and place her into my t-shirt, which I then hold against my chest and carry back to Hannah. “Got her.”
With my free hand, I take Hannah firmly by the arm. “Stay out of the road. I can hear the traffic coming.”
I help Hannah into the passenger seat and place my t-shirt, with the kitten inside, on Hannah’s lap.
“Guess we’d better take her to a vet, huh?” I say.
We don’t find an animal clinic until we reach Grand Junction, but when they find out we’re just passing through, they’re willing to take us right away.
The vet does a bunch of tests and says the kitten is definitely a girl, that she’s probably about four months old and, by how clean and well-fed she looks, that she was most likely abandoned very recently.
“Who drops a kitten off to die?” The vet shakes her head. “I’ll never understand human beings.”
“Me neither.” Hannah scoops the kitten into her arms. “Thank you so much for your help.”
The clinic provides us with a cat carrier, a brand-new litter box and bag of litter, in addition to cans of cat food and two bowls. She also offers us a cat backpack, which has a bubble-shaped clear window on the back.
“What the hell is that?” I ask.
Hannah squeals. “Oh, how precious! She can sit in it and look out while I carry her.”
I run my hand down my face. “That’s a little much, don’t you think?”
“I think it’s perfect.” Hannah takes it from the vet, who’s smiling as excitedly as Hannah is.
Bossy Baller: A Hero Club Novel Page 9