“I love you, Maverick Wright,” I panted as he slid one hand up my bare thigh, holding my hip roughly to keep me steady. My hand clenched around his forearm and my nails dug into his flesh.
“You can’t run on me, Poppy. I love you. You. Are.Always.Mine.”
“God...” I groaned in pleasure, his words spurring my release. “I promise. I won’t run.”
“You can’t be another person that leaves. I won’t let you.” He pumped frantically, fast and long and deep, and my release ripped through my body, searing-hot pleasure spiking through my system. My head fell back against the hood of the car and my body was wracked with heavy pants as I tried to catch my breath and let my brain calm from the blissful high.
Maverick held both of my ankles in one hand and angled in with his other, holding my hips tightly. He reached me full and deep and then shuddered and groaned with his own release, his face twisting in a combination of pain and pleasure. His chest heaved as he released both of my legs and collapsed between my thighs.
I came down from my high and instantly remembered that I was half naked in a Rover in front of my childhood home.
My body shivered with the loss as Maverick slowly pulled away.
“I’m sorry it’s been so confusing,” I whispered to him.
His eyes flicked to mine.
“No,I’msorry, Poppy.” He changed then, a reserved arrogance taking over him as he pulled his pants up and reached down to hand me my sleep shorts. “These are torn.” He pocketed my lace panties and turned away from me.
I sat nearly naked in the passenger seat of the Rover and felt utterly alone and abandoned, even though I’d just been fucked seven ways from Sunday by the man I loved. The man who said he loved me.
I watched his back as he ran one hand through his hair. Sex didn’t seem to be a stress relief for him—it had somehow created more anxiety.
Tears sprang to my eyes and I wiped them away. I pulled on my shorts then turned to look at him, still facing away from me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again, because I didn’t know what else to say. What had just happened between us and what was going through his mind right then was a mystery to me.
My tortured Maverick.
I knew then I’d never save him.
The realization that I’d wanted to all this time was like a bullet to my heart.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Maverick
I hadn’t seen Poppy in two weeks.
Every day I ordered flowers from The Flower Patch for the beautiful owner. And I paced the floor with thoughts of her on my mind.
Two weeks.
I stopped eating, like a broken fucking dog that’d just lost his life’s companion after our frenzied fuck in the Rover. I’d lost everything—again.
Two weeks.
This pain was the reason I kept people at bay, because in my experience, outside of raising Aspen, I found people only had a way of hurting people.
I liked this ridge to myself, nature was unfussy and without complications, the seasons came and went, Winchester at my side and Aspen visiting every now and again...I was happy.
I’d been a fool to risk that happiness for Poppy. She was too good to be true from the start—the darkness I’d carried since losing Aspen’s mom was unbearable, but somehow, losing Poppy hurt in a fresh way because I’d handed her the key to my heart.
I’d only ever been with two people—first Aspen’s mom, and now Poppy.
The more haunted the nights grew.
I’d taken to walking the halls until dawn, when the violent strains of classical music weren’t pounding in my head like a horror show symphony. Aspen’s mom had loved classical when I’d only ever thought of it as noise on my ears—now it seemed I'd never escape it.
