Ride Rough Page 14
“Yeah?” she said, looking back to his face. “Okay.” The heat in his gaze said he’d caught her admiring him. She pressed her fingers into her neck and massaged a knot there. “You don’t have to stay up with me, you know.”
“I don’t mind.” His gaze flicked to her hand. “You hurting?”
She gave a little shrug. “I’m just a ball of stress.”
“I’d say you came by that honestly, Al.” He sat up, bringing his body closer to hers, and then he pushed her hand out of the way. “Lemme.”
Maverick’s big, warm hand gripped the back of her neck and massaged her sore muscles. She groaned and buried her face in her knees.
“Too much?” he asked, his voice gravelly.
“It’s perfect,” she said. And it was. Warm, firm, strong, his touch felt so damn good it was all she could do to keep from moaning.
“Turn your back to me.”
She did, and then both of his hands fell on her skin where the opening to his too-big shirt hung wide on her shoulders. He kneaded at her neck, dragged his fingers against her scalp, and pressed delicious circles against her upper back. His big hands spanning her body, he pushed his thumbs into the muscles running down both sides of her spine.
Alexa did moan then. Heat licked over her body. From her embarrassment at the sound that had just spilled from her throat. From his warmth and closeness against her back. From his hands on her skin.
The quiet suddenly felt weighted, heady, full of anticipation. Was that her imagination? Or did Maverick feel it, too? She held stock-still, both because she didn’t want him to stop and because she felt like if she gave even the slightest indication that she wanted more, this moment would explode into something she maybe wasn’t ready for. Certainly not tonight.
Which made Maverick massaging her the sweetest torture. Because his touch brought her body to life like she’d been hibernating for the past five years. Her skin became hypersensitive. Her nipples hardened. Her core ached with need.
She shivered from the intensity of the arousal suddenly flooding through her.
“Cold?” he asked, hands smoothing up her back again.
“No,” she said.
“Tired?” The timbre of his voice was low, rough.
“I don’t know.” She peered over her shoulder. Maverick’s eyes were hot and intense, though she wasn’t sure what to make of that, or whether she was projecting her own desires onto him. “I don’t want to sleep again, though. I’d rather not be alone with my thoughts right now.”
He looked at her for a long moment, and then he pushed himself back into the corner of the couch. Regret at losing his touch rushed through Alexa until Maverick held open his arm to her. “Come here.”
Alexa didn’t let herself second-guess it. She moved into the space along the side of his body. Her head on his chest, her chest against his side, her legs pressed along his. The sensations were familiar and new at the same time.
His arm came around her shoulder. “Sleep, Alexa. Everything else we can figure out in the morning.”
“I hope so,” she said.
“I know it.” He gave her a squeeze.
His warmth and his scent and the lulling grumble of his voice made her eyelids sag and then close altogether. Maybe everything would look better in the light of day. She could only hope.
IT WAS ONE of Maverick’s favorite dreams.
He and Alexa had gone up to Swallow Falls in Western Maryland for a weekend getaway and were staying in one of the mini cabins at the state park. After a day of hiking and swimming and picnicking outside, they’d come back to their cabin tired and ready to crash, but getting naked for showers had sidetracked them for hours. And even once they finally fell asleep, Maverick was hard and ready every time he woke up, and he took her again and again, falling asleep still buried inside her . . .
And fuck if he wasn’t ready right now.
He burrowed his face in her soft hair and banded his arm around her stomach. His hand filled with the soft mound of her breast. He pulled her back against his chest and ground his erection against the swell of her ass.
“Maverick,” she moaned.
Hell, yeah. He nuzzled her neck, kissed her there, tasting and nipping and sucking. God, he needed in her. “Fuck, Alexa,” he whispered.
Her hand gripped his. “Maverick.”
He rolled her under him and crawled on top of her, his body falling into the cradle of her spread thighs.
“Uh, Maverick.”
He frowned and kissed her jaw, her cheek, her mouth.
It was the kiss that did it. Something wasn’t right. The memory playing out in his sleep-fogged mind didn’t feel like the reality confronting his physical senses. His eyes blinked open.
And he found himself lying on top of Alexa. Not in the cabin at Swallow Falls years before. In the gray morning light of his house. Her wide hazel eyes stared up at him.
He reared off of her in an instant. “Fuck,” he said, coming to stand by the couch. Alexa looked stunned—and so fucking sexy that Maverick barely resisted crawling back on top of her. She lay on her back in his clothes, on his couch, her knees drawn up and falling out, her hair sleep-mussed and sexy. Jesus. He adjusted himself, unable to hide his raging hard-on, and scrubbed at his face. “Goddamn dream. I’m sorry, Alexa. I didn’t mean to do that.”
“You . . . you were dreaming. Of me?” she whispered.
His gaze narrowed. “Don’t ask a question you don’t want the answer to.”
She swallowed and licked her lips. “What if I do want it? The answer,” she added.
Years of need and longing roared through Maverick like a drug he’d mainlined. His thoughts spilled out unfiltered. “Damnit, Al. You’re laying there in my clothes in my house with your thighs spread after I’ve just woken up holding you. My skin smells like you. And I’m sporting an erection because of you. Don’t fuck with me.” The words came out harsher than he intended, but she couldn’t play with him. Not on this. Not when he cared so much. Not when he wanted so much.
Her mouth dropped open and her chest rose and fell a little quicker. “I’m not playing a game. I want to know.”
Planting his hands on his hips, Maverick studied her. Her beautiful, languid body. Her pretty, open face. Her eyes, honest and free of pretense. He felt pulled in a million directions. Between wrong and right, between taking advantage and taking care, between giving in and opening himself up to a world of hurt. “I was dreaming of you. Of us. Up at Swallow Falls.”
“That night we—”
“Yes,” he growled.
“Maverick—”
“Fuck.” He dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes. Trying to be bigger than his base needs. Trying to put her before himself. “Whatever is about to come out of your mouth is not a good idea.”
“Mav—”
“I mean it, Al—”
“Maverick!” she nearly yelled. “Listen to me.”
His gaze cut up to hers in time to see her sit up a little and take off her shirt. Well, his shirt. Then she laid back again, her eyes on him, drinking him in, inviting him in. “What if I do want it?” she whispered.
Something inside him snapped.
He was on her in a second. Body covering hers. Hands going to her warm skin. Mouth tasting her everywhere—her shoulder, her throat, her cheek. His chest pressed against her breasts, her hard nipples evident, her excitement palpable. And then his mouth found hers. On a triumphant groan, he claimed her, his lips sucking, his tongue penetrating. His big hand found her breast and kneaded at the soft mound.
And Alexa was right there with him. Moaning, kissing him, clutching on to him. Her thighs wrapped around his hips and her fingers twisted in his hair.
Bad idea bad idea such a fucking bad idea.
Why did bad ideas have to feel so good?
“Fuck, I want you,” he said, grinding his cock against the soft, welcoming spot between her thighs.
“I want you, too. Feels like I’ve been
wanting you my whole life.” She peered up at him, her eyes so vibrant they were nearly green.
Maverick pulled back, her words hitting him in all kinds of places, some comfortable, some even healing, but some less so. “You can’t toy with me, Alexa. Not when I’ve wanted you for so long. Not when I never wanted to let you go in the first place. This . . . this can just be fucking. But don’t you dare say anything you don’t mean.”
She stroked his hair. “Truth?”
He gave a tight nod and prepared for the worst, even as he hoped for a shot.
“Truth is, I don’t know what this means. Yet. I am so messed up right now. I’m not even going to hide that. But . . .” She tilted her head, and her expression was filled with something Mav didn’t want to name, but it sure as hell looked like affection. “But I know I want this. I want you, Maverick. Right now. And wanting you feels like one of the smartest decisions I’ve made in forever. Everything else be damned.” Her voice was shaky and breathy and her words were so full of dangerous, dangerous hope that Maverick didn’t dare move.
His muscles nearly shook with the force of his restraint, because his body was literally screaming at him. Screaming at him to just let go. “Fuck, Alexa.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. But I want you. I want you inside me right now more than I want my next breath.”
Even though his mind was rolling out a list of all the reasons why this was a no good what the fuck are you thinking very bad idea, Maverick’s body grabbed the reins. On a groan, he went in for a kiss, rougher than he intended, but the moan she unleashed when his mouth crashed down on hers told him she didn’t mind. They fumbled with clothes. Her boxers. His jeans. Until they were both naked and pressed tight, all hot skin on skin, and his cock ground against her soft folds until she was mewling and writhing and silently pleading with the rough, desperate grip of her hands on his shoulders, his back, his ass.
A big part of Maverick wanted to pick Alexa up and carry her to his bed—where his heart said she belonged—but this wasn’t about that. At least not yet, and he wasn’t giving either of them any more time to think than he already had.
He needed her too damn bad. Just this once. In case that’s all it was.
Taking his cock in one hand, he dragged his head against her pussy, the contact sending a ferocious need through his veins. He braced his other hand next to her shoulder and met her bright eyes. “You sure?”
“Now,” she said.
“What about prot—”
She shook her head. “I’m covered. And I want you just like this.”
“Christ,” he bit out, the trust inherent in her words kinda blowing his mind. His cock found her opening, penetrated her, slid slow and deep. It was perfection of the soul-deep, bone-bending, never-get-enough kind. He’d been with other women since they’d broken up, of course. But being with Alexa again reminded him just how much every one of those experiences had paled in comparison to being inside this woman. Damn if it wasn’t like coming home.
It took everything Mav had not to rut against her like an animal, not to just let his hips fly and pound, because that was the kind of urgency firing through his blood.
But she deserved better than that. She deserved his care. And he didn’t want to rush this. He wanted it to last forfuckingever.
He came down on one elbow as his cock bottomed out inside her. Her head wrenched back as she cried out, the look of pleasure on her face so damn beautiful. “Oh, God,” she rasped. “Oh, Maverick.”
His name from her mouth licked heat over his skin. He withdrew slowly, then hammered home again. Alexa’s eyes went wide. Her mouth dropped open. Maverick did it again and again. Slow withdrawal, fast penetration. Until her core was fisting around him and driving him insane.
“You gonna come for me, Al?” Their gazes collided as his hips snapped against her clit. “Come for me.” His hips hammered home again. Staying deep, he ground himself against her. That was all it took.
Alexa’s whole body went taut as her mouth formed a silent cry and her eyes squeezed shut, her nails digging in to his arm and his side. Her core sucked at him over and over, and Maverick forced himself to move despite the utter fucking perfection of it, because he wanted it to be good for her. He wanted the goodness—the rightness—of it to mark and change her on the inside. The way it was doing to him. Because this was shining a spotlight on everything he’d been wanting for so long.
Her whole body shook and she finally found her voice, crying out and calling his name. He kissed her, deep and claiming, keeping their faces close, and wrapped himself around her. And then he let his body off its leash. He fucked her in a fast grind that quickly had them hot and sweaty and panting. Their gazes locked, she raked at his hair and pulled him in for a kiss they couldn’t hold. Small needful whimpers spilled out of her, the sounds driving him wild. The closeness, the honesty, the need—it was the most intimate moment he’d had in years. Maybe ever. And it gave his body a giant shove toward release.
“Come again for me,” he said. “Show me how good I’m making you feel.”
“Maverick,” she rasped.
“That’s right,” he said, tilting his hips to concentrate on her clit. “Give it to me, Alexa.”
“Shit,” she whispered.
Taking the hair at the back of her head in hand, he forced her to open to him as he bore down on her in a claiming, penetrating kiss, his body still moving in hers. “Come,” he growled.
The cry started low and then turned into a guttural moan in his ear. “Mav, baby.” The spasming of her core around his—again—was all he could take. Braced up on one arm, he let his hips fly, snapping against her and concentrating sensation into his balls. And then he was coming and cursing and shooting inside her. He moved through it, trying to drag it out for both of them as long as he could.
Because he didn’t know what this meant. Or whether it would happen again. And Alexa hadn’t made any promises. Neither of them had.
“Jesus,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. They stared at one another for a long moment. Not speaking or hiding. Just looking. And he felt it—a bunch of things she was maybe thinking and maybe even feeling, but not saying. He knew because he was doing the same thing. “You okay?”
The small smile she gave him was so damn pretty. “I’m . . . definitely better than okay.”
He chuckled and nodded, affecting a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Good. That’s good.”
Soft fingertips dragged down his face, then pushed the length of his hair back. “Thank you.”
“Yeah,” he said. Not sure what more to say when there was so much he couldn’t. Or shouldn’t. Easing out of her, he immediately missed her heat and her touch. “How ’bout I make some coffee?”
Alexa nodded, her smile still small but turning playful. “Coffee is life.”
“Coffee is life,” he said on a nod. He scooped his jeans off the floor and forced himself to act all chill, to walk away, to keep his mouth shut.
Because what else could he do?
SITTING ON THE couch, the sounds of Maverick puttering around in the kitchen coming from behind her, Alexa quickly pulled on her clothes and made her way to the bathroom. She shut herself inside and pressed her face to the cool wood of the door. And let the quiet tears flow.
That . . . that had been the single most amazing thing Alexa had experienced in almost five years.
Everything she’d been wanting. Everything she’d been missing. Everything she’d been needing. Maverick gave it to her, not even realizing what he was doing, and how earth-shattering it truly was for her. He hadn’t just held a mirror up to her relationship with Grant—because, Jesus, when she thought of what’d happened in that bathroom at the inn, it was nothing like this. Mav had taken a sledgehammer to whatever last pieces of the charade of her life that she’d been clinging to. And in the process, making her see how much she’d tolerated that she shouldn’t have, how little she’d accepted for herself,
and how much she’d convinced herself that something existed where it didn’t. And maybe never had.
Where had she been?
Why the hell had she given up on Maverick the way she had? Given up on herself? She’d had good reasons, right? Good, totally reasonable reasons. Except, what were they again? And why did they ring so hollow to her now?
God, she was a mess. And it was one problem too many for her to try to fix just then.
Shaking her head, she freshened up and met her reflection in the mirror. “Time to face reality, Al,” she whispered to herself.
How Maverick fit into that reality, she didn’t know.
Out in the hall, she found Lucy waiting for her and meowing repeatedly. The cat followed her to the kitchen, where Alexa found Maverick much as he’d been the night before—shirtless, jeans hanging on his hips, though buttoned this time, and sexy as hell. “Do you have some lunch meat or tuna I can feed Lucy? Just until I can buy her some cat food?” she asked.
“I have ham and cheese,” he said, gesturing to the fridge. “Help yourself to whatever you need. I mean it, Al. Like it’s your own house. Okay?”
She ducked inside the refrigerator, not wanting him to see just how much his words meant to her. “Okay, thanks.” For the next few minutes, she diced lunch meat while Maverick made toast and fixed them both a cup of coffee. They worked in silence and the way they moved around one another reminded her of all the times they’d made meals here when they’d been together. So she really didn’t need to ask how he knew how she liked her coffee.
When Lucy had her breakfast and Alexa had forced herself to eat a piece of toast, she sighed. “I should check my phone,” she said, moving into the hall. In the guest room, she found her cell. “Holy shit,” she whispered, her gaze latching onto the little notification numbers.